#ARE THEY ONLY IN THE US ??? WHY ARE THEY HOGGING THE GIANT BELLS !!!!

[myballsitchaurghouchie]

Oh my gof d

I was looking for a bell for this lamb cosplay I’m making and I found this humongous one and had to draw this

[beels-burger-babe]

Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day

***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.

From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.

Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"

Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.

"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.

You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"

You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.

"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff

[uwua3]

your name. (pt. 4)

❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3 — part 4

summary: your first day out in tokyo allows you to meet a friend

warnings: food, skipping class

author’s note: bunnie is so happy to release the 4th installment to her first series! please enjoy the first time tsumugi (well, you!) go out to the city! the next part will be posted tomorrow~ thank you! ₍₍ ( ๑॔˃̶◡ ˂̶๑॓)◞♡

word count: 3,030

You didn’t have enough time.

Or, enough money. You followed the train tracks to the station, only to realize you’ve barely used the shinkansen to know enough about it. Back in Itomori, everyone knew each other so it was safe to walk everywhere. It wasn’t like that in Tokyo, apparently.

As you stood at the machine, looking back and forth to the IC card, you truly understood what it was like to actually be broke. While yours was a smaller, less-known company, Tsumugi’s train card held the common Pasmoa. It further emphasized that you were truly in Tokyo. Unbeknownst to you, a line was forming behind you as everyone looked to see what was taking you so long.

You tried to read the train map, but it was much more complicated than normal. Typically, you’d take out your smartphone to look up the directions, but the flip phone suddenly felt heavier in your coat pocket now. After a minute or so, you were muttering about ticket prices and hoping money would magically appear in your wallet before someone said a polite “Excuse me!” out of nowhere.

You glanced up before doing a double take at the most professional business man you’ve ever seen in your life. The man was clad in a beige suit that did wonders for his already thin physique, a red tie around his neck neatly. Blonde hair fell over his forehead perfectly, and his pink eyes examined you with a customer-service smile upon his face. As you got lost in how handsome he was, he bowed lightly with his hand tightening around his leather briefcase.

“I’m Chigasaki Itaru, nice to meet you. Is there a problem?” Itaru introduced himself, and you tried not to fall in love immediately with how he practically glowed. You hurried to do the same, almost falling over as you stayed in a bow for way too long. You didn’t notice how the line tried to keep in their sighs of disappointment when you continued hogging the counter.

“Um, I’m… Tsukioka Tsumugi! I’m just… struggling with the train?” You blanked, noticing how your voice went way too high for Tsumugi’s liking. Itaru curiously tilted his head anyways. It was… rare to find a Japanese person to be finding problems with the shinkansen. Were you a foreigner? Itaru questioned, but bit his tongue to avoid being rude.

“Oh? Are you out of money?” Itaru read the screen as you felt the second hand embarrassment for Tsumugi. City folk were brutally honest, huh? Before you could jump to defend Tsumugi’s honor (and empty bank account), Itaru swiped his card and input an amount that was large for both you and Tsumugi’s minds.

“There you go, make sure to be prepared next time.” Itaru smiled again, guiding you out of line as it finally progressed forward. You were still a fish out of water, your jaw dropped and mouth open as you tried to find the words to thank this stranger. Out of sight, Itaru’s annoyance was no longer concealed as he set his eyes on you with a frown.

“I just wanted you to hurry up. Don’t keep the line waiting, or it will be a very bad morning for you, Tsukioka-san.” Itaru advised truthfully, although not meanly as you nodded dumbly, feeling incredibly ashamed for putting Tsumugi in this situation. You dropped into a bow again, clutching the IC card with both your hands together.

“T-Thank you, Chigasaki-san!” You said and Itaru uncomfortably shifted on his dress shoes, looking around as he whispered for you to stand back up. As you did, Itaru took another look at your plain state with a groan, as if he was about to regret what he was going to ask next.

“Where are you going?”

“Um… Omi's House, Chigasaki-san.”

“Really? Me too. What are the odds?” Itaru checked to confirm the route once again, and contemplated something before looking at you again.

“I have no reason to help you, but you seem… like a nice guy. Come with me, we’ll go to Omi’s new cafe together.” Itaru offered and you thanked anyone listening that you met Itaru that morning. Out of reflex, you immediately wrapped the businessman in a tight hug that was too close for meeting someone less than five minutes ago.

“Thank you so much, Chigasaki-san! You’re the best!” You felt so relieved at the rare act of hospitality in the city, that you forgot Itaru wasn’t Tsumugi’s close friend. Itaru tensed in your arms as he beared the curious looks from strangers passing by their corner in the train station. Before Itaru could say anything, you were hit with the fact you were hugging a random person. When you let go and profusely apologized, Itaru tried not to sigh; he did not sign up for this whatsoever.

“Let’s go before we’re late.” Itaru coughed, fixing his collar as he tried not to rock back and forth on his heels from the sudden intimacy. You nodded gratefully, following Itaru into one of the fastest trains you’ve ever seen in your life. The platforms were crowded with hundreds of thousands passengers and it was the busiest place by far. On the way to the station, the streets were equivalent to your hometown, but Tokyo was another league of its own. You constantly moved your neck, trying to see everything at once as Itaru half-dragged you to the correct train.

“Have you never been to Tokyo before?” Itaru asked politely, to which you shook your head quickly. Although Tsumugi was a Tokyo native it seems, you definitely weren’t. You were so amazed by the sight of one of the busiest train stations in Japan that you forgot you were still in Tsumugi’s body. Itaru let out a sound of acknowledgement, as if it all made sense now. With an amused quirk to his lips, Itaru waited for the train to arrive as you ogled at every new thing. (The bento boxes here were way overpriced but there were so many! Not only that, but there were all sorts of people here. Students, businessmen, employees!)

“All on board train #6!” The announcer’s automated voice cheerfully said over the intercom as train #6 pulled in perfectly on time. Punctuality at its finest. You waited for the hundreds of train riders to leave first before you were the first one inside, rushing in with a sense of urgency. Others may have thought you were late to something, but you were just excited to ride your first bullet train! Itaru strolled in a few moments later. It seemed as if he didn’t rush himself for anyone, what a cool guy.

Luckily, you had saved a seat beside you for Itaru and as soon as he sat down, the train doors closed and off you both were to the heart of the city. While Itaru had already done this a million times, you were energetically bouncing your leg up and down, staring outside of the window like your life depended on it. Itaru didn’t mind, as long as you didn’t bother him as he played with something on his smartphone.

(“What is that?” You asked, leaning over his shoulder to see some game graphics. Itaru quickly shielded his screen, as if it was some big secret. “Nothing.” Itaru defensively replied, before putting back on his typical pleasant smile. “Oh, okay…”)

That was that. Itaru was charming, to say the least. When the train reached its final destination, Itaru pocketed his advanced phone neatly and gestured for you to follow. However, when you stood up, you forgot about the brown bag and its strap hooked around the seat. You felt yourself get pulled back and before you hit the ground, a pair of arms quickly caught you. As everyone departed, you could feel Itaru’s hold like a true prince.

“You’re lucky I found you, or else you’d be dead.” Itaru said simply, and you nodded again. He wasn’t wrong. Itaru quickly let go of you and you two headed out into the intercity of Tokyo. It was even busier this time around, and you loved every second of it.

“Welcome to Shinanomachi Station.” You read out loud as you passed the giant sign above. Welcome to Tokyo, indeed. Itaru introduced you to his fully functional car (“Why didn’t you just drive to Omi's House?” “No parking back at the apartment.” “Oh.”) and you both took off into the morning traffic. Funny enough, the car was the same exact color as Itaru’s two-piece suit.

It was about 7:15 A.M. when you saw Omi's House. Perhaps, it was more accurate to say you smelt it first over anything. Cooking just like your grandmother’s wafted into the streets and if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine Itomori again. It was a sense of comfort in the middle of the bustling city. As the crowds of people passed, Omi's House was illuminated in a warm glow above a natural exterior. It felt like home, Omi wasn’t wrong in naming such a place.

Itaru parked naturally like it was nothing. You almost pushed your face against the glass with anticipation as you watched servers pass back and forth in the display windows. Because it was so early, you could practically hear the sound of the coffee machine behind the register. Without warning, you almost collapsed out of the car when Itaru opened the door for you. Whether it was on purpose or not, you had no idea. Itaru must’ve been a city boy through and through, because the mere presence of the cafe didn’t faze him like it did for you.

You let out a soft “Wow…” at the place as you stumbled out of the car. It was your first time ever seeing a cafe, but it felt so familiar that you didn’t even question it at first. Itaru didn’t care to ask why you were like this and entered the cafe, holding the door open for you. The bell above your head rang a single chime, and you were about to figure out why it awakened something in you before a charismatic voice called Tsumugi’s name.

“Tsumu-Tsumu! Did you bring a friend?! I didn’t know you had any other than me!” Kazunari jokes, already sitting in a window seat. Itaru held up his hand in a professional wave, before departing to someone on the other side. Itaru rushed for only one person, and it was his boss. A green-haired man with thin glasses glared at his employee, seeing right through his lies. (“Utsuki-senpai! I was late because I wanted to help someone new to Tokyo—” “Bullshit, Itaru. You just used them as an excuse.” “Senpai…”)

You sat down across from Kazunari and took in his vibrant bigger-than-life appearance. Kazunari’s green eyes shined like the sun even if there were prominent college student shadows. His hair was stylishly blonde with hair spray keeping the perfect shape; on top was a fedora, which had his name bedazzled in cyan gems with a star. When Kazunari winked whilst grinning, you definitely could see how Kazunari was the star of everyone’s show.

“Good morning, Miyoshi-kun.” You bowed lightly and Kazunari huffed childishly, crossing his arms. “Aw, what the heck! You just called me by my first name today! I thought we were becoming soulmates, ya know?” Kazunari pouted like a little kid, sinking into his chair as his knee bumped into the table, nearly knocking over his frappuccino. You immediately stabilized it, letting out a sigh of relief when nothing spilled. The foam jiggled for a bit before staying still, the caramel grid design perfectly okay. Phew.

“Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly and Kazunari just waved his hand like it was nothing; of course he was just being dramatic. Everything was in good fun when Kazunari was here, apparently. Before Kazunari could begin talking, another man appeared at the table in a navy blue apron labelled “Omi’s House”.

“Kazunari! Welcome to Omi’s House, once again. Who’s this?” You had to look up to see that this was in fact, Fushimi Omi, owner of the cafe. His nametag reflected the sunlight from outside and his smile lines shined through. Omi didn’t look like he’d run a cafe, but his eyes were made of amber honey and his smile sparkled like the clean countertops at the front register. When you slightly bowed your head, a hand immediately ruffled your hair with extreme fondness.

“This is Tsumu-Tsumu! Best T.A. ever! He’s saved my butt so many times in class, Omimi~ What’s your best thing on the menu today?” Kazunari giggled, already on familiar terms with the owner of the cafe. Even though Omi and Kazunari seemed to be unlikely friends, they still shared an easy conversation with one another as Omi pondered the question. Adjusting the notepad in his hand, Omi didn’t even have to take a look at the menu before having a lightbulb moment, using his pencil to point at the breakfast foods section.

“Do you like eggs? How about eggs benedict?”

You didn’t know Tsumugi liked eggs so much.

It was almost instinct to wolf down the eggs like they were your last meal on Earth. When Kazunari took out his high-end smartphone to post a story to his Instagram, he turned the camera only to see “Tsumugi” finishing his steaming hot plate. Luckily, you found out Tsumugi didn’t have any social media, so it was a video that couldn’t hurt his reputation in the long run.

Still, Omi’s eggs were perhaps the best food you and Tsumugi have eaten in a long time.

“Hey, Tsumu-Tsumu! You’re so different today! I didn’t even know you could eat that much, you rarely order anything when we go out!” Even though the tone was lighthearted, you swore Kazunari’s eyes darkened for a split second before returning to his bright expression. You slowed down your chewing, unfamiliar with this intense feeling of hunger. Just when was the last time Tsumugi had eaten something?

“Aha… I apologize, Miyoshi-san.” You mumbled, realizing there was nothing left to eat. Kazunari had nothing but another sugary concoction. Apparently, the drink was so complex and elaborate that Omi named it the “Kazunari Special”, even if no one really ordered it. (When Kazunari asked if you wanted a sip, you didn’t need Tsumugi’s better judgment to decline politely).

“Hmph, don’t go back to being so shy! This is the most I’ve seen you even interact with me. I think you’re sleep-deprived like hell.” Kazunari pat your head again and again, like an overly affectionate owner would do to their dog. You took it like a champ, feeling yourself blush under the loud attention. At least you were full, that’s what mattered.

“I feel fine, thank you, though.” For some reason, Tsumugi’s tone came out sharp, something not suited for an easygoing breakfast in a cafe. It must’ve struck a nerve, one you weren’t exactly aware of. Kazunari seemed to realize this as well and his lips fell from their usual smile, settling on a firm line. Yet, it wasn’t out of annoyance, but concern. It was that look of pity that made Tsumugi’s body become smaller, as if willing to disappear.

“Tsumu… you don’t have to pretend around me. We’re friends, right?” Kazunari smiled gently when you nodded without thinking. Tsumugi might have not been the closest of friends with Kazunari, but there was clearly a soft spot for him in both of you. So boldly, you rather harshly stabbed the last piece of egg and held it in front of Kazunari expectantly, as if it was some sort of silent apology.

“Eat… uh, please. Let me take care of you, too.” You stuttered embarrassingly enough, wishing you were as effortlessly cool as Kazunari. He seemed to be wishing the same thing as Kazunari dropped his facade and became… flustered? For a moment, Kazunari’s eyes were warmer, as if slowly opening the curtains to reveal what was truly behind his “glass-like” exterior. Then, he took a big bite of your breakfast, flashing a giant grin at your rather surprised blush.

“Hehe, is my Tsumu shy again~? Nonsense, it’s just me.”

But, I don’t even know you, you and Tsumugi thought at the same time, and it became clear that the friendship between you and Kazunari was undeniable but impersonal. How come Kazunari didn’t order any food? Were his hands so jittery from the coffee he must’ve drank often? Why was the coffee so sugary, did he need it to stay up? So many questions from this meeting alone, and you weren’t satisfied with having no answers.

“Skip class and hang out with me, Miyoshi-kun.” You rushed out, hiding your anxious expression nonchalantly as Kazunari nearly spit out his coffee. Well, it was practically just whipped cream at this point, but still! Kazunari put his mug down with some sort of apprehension, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You didn’t blame him, considering how studious Tsumugi appeared to be. The Bachelor degrees, the filled-out calendar with no room to breathe, and the multitude of dried out red pens in the trash. Someone like Tsumugi asking one of his students to forget about their studies must’ve been something that could only happen in their wildest dreams.

“Skip class?! Tsumu-Tsumu, you must be super out of it.” Yet, Kazunari didn’t seem to be against it. In fact, he looked just about ready to do anything right now as long as Tsumugi was involved. It put a smile to your face how endearing Kazunari truly was. “But, I’m in. How can I say no to my favorite T.A.?”

Kazunari didn’t ask why for this sudden request, but you tried to communicate the answer as much as you could regardless. You hoped by leaving a generous tip (one that surely would have consequences later on), asking what his favorite places to go were, and insisting your schedule was cleared for the day that it revealed everything you needed it to.

We’re supposed to be friends, right? So let’s get to know each other without the boundaries between us. Let me in, Kazunari. Who are you, really?

[tirorah]

Road to Berlin’s Episode 12 Is a Spectacular Finish to a Spectacular Show

It was damn good!

After the slightly tame setup Episode 11 provided, it fell to Episode 12 to deliver the payoff not just to the finale that Episode 10 started, but also to wrap up the overarching story of the entire season. And oh boy, did it do just that!

First, let’s talk about our favorite looming antagonists with barely any world-building, the Neuroi! Well, they once again upped the creepy factor by replicating World Capital Germania. How they managed to do this is still unclear, as the city never left the planning stage; it truly does seem like the Neuroi don’t just consume for sustenance or whatever, but also that they can replicate whatever they find in the territory they conquer. Of course, none of this matters much to the story at hand, but it does give us a tiny bit of world-building on them, and it would also explain some of the more bizarre Neuroi designs. Do you remember the Cube Neuroi? I do.

I was also intrigued by this former emperor of Karlsland who designed the plans for Germania. Whoever they were, they were forced to step down, but this raises all kinds of questions. When did this happen? How long has Emperor Frederick IV been in power? What does the mere existence of these plans imply about Karlsland’s history?

By the by, the building that was never in the plans seems to resemble the Great Hall, which was, in fact, shelved due to the start of WW2. Strike Witches occasionally gets some stuff hilariously wrong, but much of the research definitely seems on the money.

See, as far as I know, Nazism doesn’t exist in Karlsland. (Actually, that’d be pretty awkward for Karlsland, with the 501st’s logo being the way it is...) Judea was wiped out by Neuroi in the year 29; this, and several other differences in the world’s history, produced a different world than the one we know. (See the Strike Witches Historical Timeline for more information.) Culturally, Karlsland is far more akin to Imperial Germany, but transplanted into the 1940s and borrowing some iconography and designs.

There WAS tension in Europe before the Neuroi showed up and forced everyone to unite against a common enemy; would that have been enough incentive to create these plans, as well as structures like the Flak Tower? I hope we’ll find out someday. Either way, the fact the Neuroi created such an intricate city-shaped structure based on nothing but plans on paper is pretty terrifying. What else did the overrun countries have lying around when they were invaded?

Right, well, enough about the ancillary stuff. Let’s talk characters!

And cutting right to the chase: Shizuka definitively earned her spot on the team this episode. Yes, I know she technically earned it in the Movie at the earliest, and I guess Episode 10 at the latest. But Episode 10 still left me a bit wanting, as it was part of the process of building up to Shizuka’s turning point as a character. But now we reached that moment at long last, and it was everything I’d hoped to see.

First, RtB shows us how far she’s come. Her determination is nothing short of epic; she’s grown so much since her first engagement in the Movie, and nowhere is that more obvious than here. She lands a difficult shot on the bomb while flying a Striker her magic can’t handle, to the point where it’s physically hurting her to breathe. And then, she sees Yoshika trapped down below, and she finally passes the point of no return.

For the entire season, Shizuka’s been utterly obedient when it came to orders. As soon as someone dropped that o-word, she’d stop whatever action she was entertaining and went along with what she was told, even if it didn’t sit entirely well with her at times. She still does that at first, actually. But then, she finally sees something she can’t walk away from, and she decides to risk her own life to protect the girl who always throws herself into danger for others.

She saves Yoshika’s life, and even though she’s definitely not sounding well, she then takes up the fight in her friend’s defense without a single ounce of hesitation. Her switch from defense to offense is almost explosive; no talking, no checking on Yoshika, just straight-up switching on a dime. And her valiant stand is successful!

Until this happens, and once again I have to commend everyone involved in RtB on the gravity of this scene. Shizuka’s injury is devastating. The cinematography is chilling and incredibly well done: the way the beam punches through the profile shot of her body; how the beam takes all the colors with it as it leaves the screen, monochrome swiftly washing over the scene in its wake, Shizuka already pale; the trails of blood; the dilated eyes. They don’t show her crash, but it sounds awful. And then there’s the blood, positively pouring out of the hole in her body, spilling out until it even reaches Yoshika’s knees, a symbol for Yoshika failing to save her.

As the scene dragged on and Yoshika became increasingly frantic, fear slowly trickled into me again. Strike Witches doesn’t kill characters, but Shizuka was dying for sure. I was still holding on to the hope that everything would turn out okay, but there didn’t seem to be any way out, and that was a gut-punch and a half. It was seriously upsetting, and in a good way: that moment when you realize you do, in fact, care about a character whose presence you’ve questioned for the entire season.

I’d never been so happy to see a Deus Ex Yoshika hit the screen.

Now, I'm not the biggest fan of Yoshika. I do like her as a concept: the pacifist medic thrown into war. But I still feel like Yoshika’s character leans too much on her desire to protect people. It worked well at first, especially when her new companions needed someone to give them hope, but while quite a few characters showed growth as time went on, Yoshika’s always remained relatively static. And RtB’s excellent character writing has only emphasized this for me.

That’s not to say she hasn’t grown into a badass though, because she has! This episode had her at her craziest yet, leveraging the power of her grief to jump-start her magic back to normal levels. And with the fine magic control she’s been forced to work on all season, she can finally let loose and do some incredible things!

A giant shield? Try more than one! Who needs a gun when you can use your magic as a battering ram? (Trude would be so proud!) And sure, just pump so much power into your Striker that you overtake the escaping Bell-type Neuroi holding Wolf! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Yoshika attained her final form of hax, and it was glorious.

Still, it was clear that battle, short as it was, took a toll on her. This means she’s not exactly all-powerful; it just so happens that she has some very powerful genes, and the right motivation to use them.

Anyway, it was to be expected that Yoshika and Shizuka would hog the spotlight for a bit in this final episode, and that’s all good. The others mostly filled their usual roles, but we did get some great character moments from them!

Let’s start with something adorable: Minna using Sanya as a portable telephone, and Sanya being entirely stoic about it. I was laughing so much, and even more so when Eila saw it happen!

“GYAAH!”

I also liked it when Eila and Sanya were so surprised at seeing so many Neuroi swarms that Sanya said this absolutely needless thing:

You know the shit’s hit the fan when Sanya, of all people, does this.

Oh, and let’s not forget: it was Eila and Sanya who finished off the dome! I’m not sure why everyone else decided to just fly off, but these two have their backs.

Shirley and Lucchini were a solid team. I liked how each of their personalities shone through in their mannerisms and dialogue, with Shirley being calm, perceptive and responsible, as well as looking out for Lucchini. She also made a good guess at Wolf’s hiding place.

Lucchini, meanwhile, was her adorable hyper self, chafing at the narrow tunnels which prevented her from bouncing around, and later, gleefully taking out one Neuroi tower, only to realize she was shooting at the wrong thing, and being utterly unconcerned as she switched targets. Nyroom! She’s such a playful kid.

I also really liked it when Wolf was running away, and Lucchini immediately looked to Shirley to chase it, but Shirley realized she couldn’t catch it from that distance. She’s come to understand her limits over the course of the series, which pairs well with her increased sense of responsibility in RtB.

Lynne and Perrine were once again the support squad, looking out for Shizuka and later on being quite attuned to anything regarding Yoshika. Unfortunately, they didn’t do much else of note, but that’s been a bit of a pattern for them since Episode 8. Either way, I’ll save my thoughts on that for the full season review. (Yes, I’m going to rant about the season in its entirety next. No one is surprised.)

Erica mostly fell into the same support role as Lynne and Perrine this episode, but she did make the highly useful observation of the anomaly in Germania: the big central building that hadn’t been in the plans. And of course, she was one of the determined Karlslander Witches who chased Wolf at the end, limits be damned.

Hey, while we’re on this pic: I’m pretty sure Mio has spent more time with Ursula than with Minna this season. How crazy is that?!

Mio was also here. I’m sad that we didn’t get a Mio Laugh, not even one at the end. I did enjoy how concerned she was about Shizuka’s well-being though; Mio is like Trude in that she’s quite married to her job (she’s even worse about that than Trude), and so her personal feelings can sometimes end up left behind. But she was still doing everything she could to help her friends, and she was genuinely terrified when she realized Shizuka was about to do something dangerous.

Before I forget, I even have to give a slight nod to Patton. He was good in this episode! Even though he loaded up his revolver, he never actually ended up using it; instead, he was a good supporting character. Even his “GODDAMU” was endearing!

Last but certainly not least, Minna and Trude were, again, excellent. I really loved how they worked together this episode: forming a united front when they told Shizuka she had to stay behind (like two parents telling their new kid to do what’s best for her, ha), and Minna using her reasoning and magic to navigate them through the tunnels while Trude smashed stuff.

Ah yes, Trude. Lovely, lovely Trude. When I wrote about Episode 11, I expressed bewilderment at her sudden suggestion of using the underground tunnels. How did she come by this information? Why did Minna not know? But Episode 12 had my back; Erica asked her about it almost immediately, and as it turned out, Trude had the most adorable reason of all time OMG:

All is forgiven, show. All is forgiven. The fact Trude learned everything about a subway system in a city Chris never even lived in, just to engage with her sister’s interests, is so downright cute and awesome that my love for her has once again increased to previously unimaginable levels. And she memorized it all so damn well that she planned out an entire route into the dome for them! This is the best thing ever!

I was also so, so happy for Minna at the end! In previous seasons, it was always Yoshika who dealt the final blow to their antagonist, but here, Yoshika only prevented Wolf from running away. It was Trude and Erica who pierced its defenses, and it was Minna who went in for the kill. Not only is this amazingly cathartic for her, it’s also something Minna 100% earned in this season. Episode 9 did so well in showing us how badly Minna wanted this, to secure victory for her girls and for herself, to the point where she disregarded her own views on self-sacrifice. And now here she was, maybe in the last sortie of her career, and she received the sweetest reward of all.

...Except the promised coffee in Berlin, which we never got! But that’s okay; this episode already did so much in its runtime, I can’t fault it for not showing us something that would take some time to happen.

Instead, we got something equally satisfying, and something I loved about the ending: it showed us everyone working hard to rebuild Berlin after the battle. RtB has been so good at details, at continuity and consequences, and here, we see that life moves on. Berlin is in ruins, and it’s going to take a lot of elbow grease to get it and the rest of northern Karlsland back into shape. But with people returning and the 501st doing everything they can to help, reconstruction will surely succeed.

And Perrine will one day conquer the world with her army of adopted children!

Life also moved on in a different way. As it turned out (or maybe I just forgot about this?), Wolf was one of two hives in Karlsland. The other one is located somewhere in the south, and thus, the 501st continues their battle for peace. I wonder if this means we’ll get more 501st content down the line? It hasn’t been ruled out, and it’d be amazing to see where these girls go next. (I demand more coffee scenes!)

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

Stick of Truth Commentary

Intro

Intro cut scene is a nice touch! The animation is nice, and it adds story and stakes to the game the boys are playing. Reminds me of “Lord of the Rings.”

I like how the boys see the stick as a golden staff, but it’s literally just…a stick.

Create your character

Fighter, Mage, Thief, Jew – which is the best and why?

Intro to New Kid and family

Dialogue between parents creates an ominous backstory. Who is looking for New Kid and why?

New Kid is a mute weirdo and I love it.

The first quest (making friends) reminds me of “The Sandlot.”

The shitting feature is awesome.

New Kid meets Butters and is brought to KKK

What exactly is the power of diabetes?

Chekov’s Clyde!

It’s cute how cool everyone is with Princess Kenny.

I like that every player is called Douchebag, but I wish every player didn’t have to play as a boy.

Elves attack

Funny how Cartman’s alarm is just Butters yelling “Alarm!”

Cartman has pretty good commentary when New Kid is fighting. I actually miss that later on.

How did the elves snag the stick? Either Clyde is a bad watchdog or Kyle is super strategic. I choose both.

New Kid must find Token, Tweek, and Craig

Token

I never knew Token was so rich that he had security! It’s probably to keep Cartman out.

I love that Token’s property is calling Dark Meadows.

Token: “The elves took the stick again?” Haha!

Tweek

Tweek is the only employee at Tweek Bros.? That’s called child labor!

I love that Mrs. McCormick thinks the meth heads in her garage are just nice renters. Is she being paid in meth?

Why would a 10-year-old boy be an undercover cop? Only in South Park.

Tweek was totally named after the word “tweeker.”

Craig

Craig is in detention for (of course) flipping off the principal. Is Principal Victoria still principal at this point?

Craig’s alias is Feldspar the Thief? I refuse to believe this isn’t a reference to Malcolm in the Middle.

On the “thief” option at the beginning, Cartman says he’s never seen a white thief before, yet Craig is a thief. Hmm…

“Heeeere they come…I’ll be outta here in ten minutes.” Smug, snarky Craig is the best Craig.

I like that Mackey seems to know he’s in a video game (by referencing the boss fight). It’s very Deadpool.

The Bard

The Inn of the Giggling Donkey is just Jimmy’s house. His living room is convincing as a bar/lounge/hangout.

Twitter = carrier raven

“There once was a maiden from Stonebury Hollow / She didn’t talk much, but boy did she swallow / I had a nice lance that she sat upon / The maiden from Stonebury who was also your mom.” I love Jimmy’s songs!

Butters: “No hurry, Douchebag. The princess is just being raped.” OMG

An elf was jumping on the bed to simulate raping Princess Kenny? The boys are really committed to this game.

Cartman: “Good job, Princess Gone Wild. Double D buddy powers.” Kenny flashing his man boobs is the best distraction tactic.

The Brown Note is Jimmy’s best attack.

“Welcome to the KKK!”

Alien abduction

Cartman’s fart lessons finally come in handy! New Kid’s ass is too strong to be probed.

I love that alien abduction is viewed as just another annoying part of living in South Park.

The guy from the recordings is the hobo hidden onboard, right?

The Nazi zombie hobo is the game’s first instance of the Nazi zombie plot. It tells us that the aliens are responsible for this when the ship crash lands to Earth and green goo gets in the sewer.

New Kid crashed an entire spaceship. He’s kind of a badass. And he gets to keep the alien probe!

The big bad government is involved now to deal with “another UFO crash.” How often does this happen??

Only South Park would try to pass off a UFO as construction of a Taco Bell. And only South Park citizens would believe it.

Recruitment (pt. 1)

All New Kid has to do to get the goth kids to join is put on black clothes. I’m glad to see they still have low standards.

New Kid finally meets Stan and Kyle! I’ve been waiting for this.

According to Kyle, Cartman lied about the stick being stolen and is hiding it. According to Cartman, Kyle is lying because New Kid can’t retrieve the stick if Kyle claims he doesn’t have it. It’s a game of “he said, she said” but I’m inclined to believe Kyle. This is Cartman we’re talking about…

PTA meeting

I’m disappointed no one yelled “Rabble, rabble!” at the PTA meeting.

Is no one else alarmed that Randy lured a young boy into the bathroom alone?

“That’s all you’ve got is a sign? At least crap on a desk or something!” Mr. Garrison is speaking highly of Cartman, I see.

She-Ogre

“Give me back my iPhone, DEMON!” This is an accurate depiction of a brother-sister relationship.

It’s adorable that Stan uses Sparky in battle.

Taco Bell

I love that the big bad government agents are such bad liars that they killed a guy asking about encharidos.

“Goddamn it! I’m so tired of Nazi zombies. It’s so…overused!” Haha!

I’m surprised the adults actually took the bombing threat seriously and weren’t bummed about no Taco Bell.

Recruitment (pt. 2)

The final goth test is DDR?? That’s so conformist.

Once you win the goth kids over, you can recruit them to either Cartman’s side or Kyle’s. I always pick Kyle’s side when I play this. I’ve been itching to betray Cartman since this game started!

South Park Elementary

The huge battle scene takes place at the school because it’s where Cartman supposedly hid the stick. South Park Elementary is busted and makes a great setting for a battle scene. More “Lord of the Rings” vibes!

New Kid’s farts help Kyle’s side get the upper hand. Take that, Cartman!

Another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: New Kid’s battle against Butters is more impactful because he was New Kid’s first friend. If it was a face off against Stan, it wouldn’t be as emotional.

The final battle gives New Kid one last chance to pick a side. Like Stan says, “I can’t believe this is even a choice.” Kyle vs Cartman is like Chanel vs Walmart.

Yet another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: Cartman’s farting fire at the end of this fight is one of the best scenes of the whole game.

Clyde

I love the twist where neither Kyle nor Cartman was lying. Clyde really punked the fuck out of everyone.

Kyle is the only one to acknowledge he’s aware of the green goo and how dangerous it is.

Stan: “Clyde, but why?” Cartman: “I banished him to be lost in space and time and now he’s all pissed off.” Haha!

Clyde’s fortress is so badass. I can see the appeal of the dark side.

How the hell does Clyde have control over the Nazi zombies??

I love that Clyde’s power move is keeping his friends out past their bedtimes. The stakes are higher now, but this reminds us this is still a kid’s game…or it started as one.

Underpants gnomes

Gnomes: “The kid is awake! What do we do?” “Oh, fuck, I guess we gotta kill him!” Me problem solving.

Since when do underpants gnomes have warlocks?? I thought they were all failed businessmen.

For some reason, high pitched gnome voices yelling “Oh, fuck!” is really funny to me.

New Kid fighting underneath his giant parents mid-coitus is another iconic fight scene. How many times must New Kid dodge his dad’s ballsack?? The kid is hardcore.

The girls

Kyle convinces everyone to team up against Clyde. I’m continually impressed by Kyle because of his leadership, intellect (he spent all night researching), and open mind (he doesn’t balk at teaming up with the humans or inviting girls to play). I’m totally Team Kyle, if you haven’t noticed.

I love that the girls blindfold New Kid when they bring him to their lair. That’s some Mafia shit.

Annie: “He…doesn’t really talk.” Bebe: “That’s hot!” ME

Sunshine, sparkle, glitter…I wanna talk like this all the time.

Heidi Turner was the two-faced bitch! That’s very Mrs. Cartman of her.

Abortion clinic

New Kid’s abortion doctor is named Dr. Poonlover because of course he is

The big bad government is doing Plan B at the abortion clinic. Clever joke!

Where did Randy get that blonde wig from?? The men in South Park cross-dress so much.

Khloe Kardashian’s aborted fetus as a Nazi zombie is also a legendary fight.

Canada

New Kid didn’t get that his photographer was a pedophile even when he was almost butt naked?? Also, who was that guy who jumps out from behind the boxes?

The layout of Canada is clearly a parody of Pokemon games, right? Either way, I love it. The shitty jpeg videogame look is very Canada.

“They’re like wolves, but they’re dire.”

Getting trained by Terrance and Phillip makes all this back and forth bullshit worth it.

Clyde’s fortress

Of course Cartman butts in when Kyle’s trying to give an inspirational speech. What an attention hog!

It’s funny to me how easily Craig switched to Clyde’s side. Loyalty much??

“I really found myself relating to Clyde’s views about darkness and enslaving the world.” Jesus, Craig!

Cartman’s negative reaction to electricity is a callback to the chip put in his head in Bigger, Longer & Uncut.

“It’s my favorite kid!” WOW, RANDY

“Who could it be?” I love how long New Kid lets them all wonder before he steps up.

Stan: “Dude, that’s not Taco Bell sauce.” Clyde: “Then why’d I find it at the Taco Bell?” A+ logic

How dare you, Clyde! Let Chef rest in peace!

Government interruption

“Whenever aliens are spotted, vampires run amok…” Vampires exist in this universe??

I love that the boys don’t care about the big bad government’s scheme.

So New Kid’s special power is making friends on social media! I should’ve known.

Princess Kenny’s betrayal

Princess Kenny planned to steal the stick all along! This game is full of betrayals.

Kenny makes a pretty cute anime princess. Nazi zombie? Not so much.

Princess Kenny is a badass final boss. And I never saw it coming!

I’m glad the “never fart on someone’s balls” joke meant something in the end. I can see why it was banned – it’s super deadly!

End

The boys unite to save friendship and love…by chucking a stick into a lake.

New Kid stole Cartman’s catchphrase!

Why did Al Gore appear so ominously at the end?? What are you gonna do to the kids, Al Gore??

[theobsessor1]

Curious Happenings

summary:  Thomas’s great grandfather has recently passed and in his will, he left his large house and giant sanctuary reservation attached to it to Thomas. Only Thomas comes to learn that it’s not quite as it seems, as every day it seems to get stranger and stranger.

pairings: none yet

Warnings: mild language Word count: 4089 co-written with my friend @i-crave-luck , if you wish to be added to the taglist let us know.

(previous chapters ch.1 )

Chapter 2 of Right Here by Your Side

Thomas groans, turning over to his back as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Warm golden light leaks in from the window, lighting up the room. 

It takes a moment for Thomas to remember where he was as he sits up, confused, realizing he wasn’t in his old Florida home anymore but was in Oregon in his grandfather's home. A small meow catches his attention as the cat from yesterday sits at the door of the room, watching him.

“What? Are you hungry?” 

The cat meows again, more insistently this time, before trotting off. 

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Thomas gets up from the bed, wrinkling his nose at the fact he fell asleep in his clothes from the day before. Heading to his room, he takes some clean clothes from the closet before looking for the bathroom. Trying to remember where it was. 

The cat seems to glare at him, making an annoyed sound. 

“Okay, I get it, I’ll feed you in a sec. Unlike you, I can’t lick myself clean.” 

Thomas isn’t sure if he imagined it, but the cat seemed to be disgusted by this, turning around and haughtily leaving once again. 

Rolling his eyes he takes his time to shower, enjoying the warm water, washing away the anxieties of the previous day. He has time to think, a particularly distressing thought crossing his mind and causing him to pause in washing his hair, realizing he spent possibly the whole night with the giant cat in the bed...yet he’s fine? He usually has an allergic reaction to cats! Did he even remember to pack his epipen or pills?

He would have to check his room before going downstairs, maybe take the pills just in case when he finds them. Could a giant cat like that even be hypoallergenic? You would think not, with all that fur. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he finishes up his shower. Finding his small case he had stored his medicine in, taking out some pills before heading down the stairs. 

He’s wonderfully surprised by the scent of something good cooking. He goes down the stairs and pauses, shocked to see Logan in the kitchen making breakfast and humming quietly. The cat was happily sitting on the counter next to him, drinking from a mug that looked like one of the many from the upstairs bedroom they found the cat in yesterday.

Logan looked really different from yesterday, his skin strangely tinted green and ears extremely long and pointed. When the light hits his eyes they would almost appear to glow. 

Thomas took a few steps closer in awe and confusion, though honestly he should be probably questioning how he got back in the house instead of his new appearance. “Logan?” 

Logan jumps slightly, turning to Thomas with wide eyes and brandishing a wooden spoon. “Oh, Thomas! Apologies, I hadn’t noticed you come in. You are wearing a protective charm, correct? That would explain why I appear to have trouble sensing you.” Logan grabs a plate from behind him, handing it to Thomas, stacked with scrambled eggs and wild berries. “Now that you are here you must eat up, there is a lot of work to do to get this place back into proper shape, and I hope we can start as soon as possible.” He sets a plate in front of the cat, snatching away the mug, to its annoyance.

“Oh, uh, thank you, uh, what exactly is there to do?” Thomas asks, bewildered. What did he mean by protective charm, or this talk of sensing him? Logan’s ear twitches, catching his attention. 

“Well, how much do you know?” Logan has begun cleaning up the utensils he used for cooking, and now that Thomas looks around, the whole kitchen looks a lot cleaner. 

“Well, uh, depends what you mean.” Thomas shakes his head. “Okay, wait a moment. Could you explain why you look like that first?” 

Logan pauses in his cleaning, tilting his head to look at Thomas, eyes glinting. “What do you mean? I am an elf, this is how we naturally look.” He squints at Thomas, metaphorical wheels turning in his head. “Thomas, what do you believe Alkwin did here?” 

“He took care of hurt or displaced animals, right? I don’t-- I don’t understand, elves aren’t real, those are all just in movies and books.” 

That cat makes a sound akin to laughter behind Logan, causing the elf to turn to him with a glare. “Remy, this is not a humorous matter. If you will not help, then I must ask you to leave.” 

The cat huffs, taking the time to stretch before hopping off the counter and wandering off. 

Thomas can’t help but feel nervous when Logan turns his dark gaze back onto Thomas with a sigh. “I assure you the Elven race is real, among many other creatures and legends. Please tell me you know something about this? Had Alkwin, or your parents, ever spoken of such things to you at all?” 

Thomas takes a moment to process how strange the cat was acting and Logan’s information before registering the question. “Uh, well, I remember being told stories as a kid, sorta. It’s a bit hazy. But my parents adamantly disapproved of all that, especially after...Well, after they stopped letting me come around.” Thomas rubbed his knuckles on his chest self consciously before forcing his hand back down. The prominent scar across his shoulder blade and arm itches, reminding him that it’s still there. 

Logan glared at the counter top, grumbling something in another language. If Thomas were to guess, it was probably some not-so-nice things. “I can’t believe your parents would raise you to such naivety, your mother was mostly raised here, like you were to be! Growing up knowing the truth!” He shakes his head, closing his eyes with a huff. “To have locked you away from such knowledge and your own family like that is disgusting.” 

Thomas clears his throat awkwardly. “Okaaaay, but you can’t possibly be an actual elf right? You’re just pulling my leg?” 

Logan glances up, looking deeply into his eyes, taking a deep breath to cool his temper. “I am not ‘pulling your leg,’ I am serious. Alkwin helped creatures, yes, but not just ordinary ones, he helped all range of creatures, magical and supernatural alike... Myself included.” 

Thomas blinks, brows furrowing. “But...they can’t possibly exist?” 

“Yes, they do! I am standing right in front of you, clearly not human!” Logan groans in annoyance. “Alright, alright. This is fine, we can go out and show you a few things to help bring your fragile human mind to peace with this. We can use this to start teaching you proper etiquette and care with creatures around here.” He grumbles.

Thomas nervously spoons some eggs into his mouth as Logan starts mumbling more to himself. This morning has been all kinds of strange. 

The cat, Remy, jumps onto the kitchen bar next to Thomas, startling him. He hadn’t heard the cat return. He might need to buy him a bell so that doesn’t keep happening. Remy was most likely seeking attention if anything from yesterday was to go by, the attention hog. But Thomas was happy to provide, petting the cat as he finished his breakfast. 

“Very well, I believe I have come up with the best course of action. You will accompany me to check on the calmer creatures to help ease you into all this and your role as caretaker. We will be leaving as soon as you’re ready.” Logan looks at him expectantly.

He freezes, mind turning blank “Oh, uh, should I bring anything? Or change?” He asks awkwardly.

“You will want to be adequately dressed for traipsing around the forest. A dagger would not hurt.” Logan suggests coolly, before turning to leave. “I’ll be out back waiting for you, do hurry. I like to keep to a schedule.” 

“Wait! Why would I need a dagger?” 

“Well, it is better to be safe than sorry as that saying goes, correct? There are many creatures that inhabit the forest and not all are friendly, though I doubt they’d attack with me around.” 

Thomas watches as he leaves, feeling his anxiety grow. It would be fine right? They would be safe? He forces himself to take a deep breath, it will be okay. He isn't a scared little kid anymore, he’s not some easy prey like he was back then. He can handle the woods. 

He probably didn’t need to change? Wearing jeans and tennis shoes would be enough, and he hadn’t exactlly packed much of his closet, so he would have to wait for the rest of his wardrobe that's packed away in the moving truck that’s on its way. That would be alot of unpacking when it arrives...and probably a lot of rearranging too. 

Steeling himself for his adventure into the unknown, he leaves the kitchen looking for the back door, Remy silently at his heels.

He finds Logan standing at the border of the tree line, leaning against a tree, inspecting an arrow. He had equipped himself with a quiver full of arrows and a bow, along with several daggers strapped to his person. Where on earth did he get all that?

He looks up as Thomas approaches, an ear twitching. “Stay close and do not stray, we do not need you getting lost. If you do, Remy will keep you safe until I find you again.” He puts the arrow back in his quiver before heading down a slightly worn path into the trees. 

As Thomas follows Logan, he can’t help but notice how smoothly he seems to move and traverse through the forest, each of his movements precise. It was like the plants around him moved out of his way. 

He looks away, aware he might have been staring, focusing on not falling on his face. It’s wild wrapping his head around all this. “You uh, knew my grandfather right? Since you said you worked with him?” 

It’s silent for a moment, making Thomas question if he heard him before Logan finally responds. “I was a colleague of his, yes,” is the short clipped answer he gives. 

“Did you get to know him well? He was a pretty awesome grandfather and I had hoped he had some good friends that stayed with him, since most of the family kinda avoided him.” Thomas knows he may be starting to ramble but he can’t help it, feeling nervous out in the woods does that.  

Logan stops himself from turning around, jaw clenching slightly. “Possibly.” 

“If magical creatures are real? Then how come the entire world doesn’t know this?” Thomas could hear Logan huff in front of him. “ Simple, really. Most creatures keep hidden from humans or humans mistake them for other creatures, subconsciously refusing to believe them as real.” Logan turns his head to look at Thomas from the side of his eyes, baring his teeth frustratedly, slightly sharper than the average person. “You would know all this if your mother hadn't acted so rashly about a simple mistake-- disregard that.” He quickly cuts himself off, eyes widening, before turning his head back forwards to focus on where they were walking, speeding his pace. 

“Wait! Did you know my mom too?” Thomas attempts to clumsily speed up to walk beside Logan, who keeps silent. 

“You do, don’t you, you mentioned her earlier too!” 

“I will not admit to such things,” Logan hisses, moving faster. 

Thomas groans childishly with annoyance, stumbling a bit to try and keep up pace with the more nimble of the two. He was starting to sense a pattern with these conversations. It seems Logan liked to avoid talking about his folks. 

He cries out, tripping over a tree root. Unhelpfully, Remy sits in front of him with a light mew. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he states dryly, before flipping over to his back to catch his breath. 

He couldn’t hear Logan, so he could only hope he hadn’t kept walking without him. 

A chittering sound off to his left catches Thomas’s attention. What looked like a rabbit was peeking out of a burrow in the ground, under the tree roots. Keeping still to not scare it away, Thomas watches with awe as the animal skittishly comes out, its little nose twitching and sniffing. 

As it hops slightly out of its home, Thomas realizes with a start that it is not an ordinary rabbit. Mini antlers protrude from its head, and- oh my gosh are those wings! 

He has to keep himself from squealing, seeing something so cool as this. Oh gosh how cute would the babies of this thing look!

“That is a wolpertinger.” 

“Jesus!” Thomas jumps, startled by Logan’s sudden presence as he stands by his head. Thomas’s sudden exclamation and movement has scared the bunny creature back into its burrow. “Dude! Warn a guy before sneaking up on them!” He might need a bell for Logan too, gosh. 

“Apologies, I did not mean to startle you. I thought you were aware I was still here. We will have to work on your perception skills, it seems.” Logan offers a hand to help him up.

Thomas shakes his head, taking the hand. “It’s fine, uh, what did you say that thing was called?” 

Logan perks up, smiling slightly, happy to teach. “A wolpertinger, they are native to Germany, though many of them have been displaced and have been scattered about in sanctuaries to protect the species.” 

Thomas looks up to Logan, bewildered. “Wait, there’s more places like this?” 

“Yes, of course, sanctuaries like this are built all over the world. Many are disguised as regular sanctuaries, much like this one here.” Logan motions for him to follow as he talks. “Magical creatures around the world are often harmed or displaced in the modern day, with the ever expanding human race. Places like this allow for them to continue to live safely and usually within their native type of habitats, undisturbed by technology.” 

“Huh, that’s really cool. Like, it sucks to hear that they have to leave their homes but it’s pretty cool that my grandfather is one of those people that were helping them find somewhere safe.” 

“Indeed.” Logan steps through a curtain of leaves, glancing around at the trees scattering the area. 

Thomas doesn’t understand what he’s doing until the wood on the trees seems to ripple and shift. Small children, maybe young teen size begin, to separate from them, wandering over to Logan like little kids ecstatic for their parents to be home, even though they left only for a few hours.

They all seemed to be made of earth, skin dark and different shades of dirt, hair made of vines and leaves, eyes grey like stones. Logan welcomes them with open arms, crouching down slightly as they all hold tightly to his sleeves, bouncing about and seemingly speaking to him, though it was in no way that Thomas could understand. 

“Hm, yes, it is good to hear the population is rising. Though, we will have to be careful to watch the numbers, we don’t want them having too many kids now, no matter how adorable they are.” Logan tilts his head to another that’s wildly gesturing to him. “No, I believe it will rain later today, don’t worry your little heads about that.” He perks up, ears standing straight. “Oh yes, I brought someone along today.” 

Thomas gives a shy wave as all of them look at him “This is Thomas, Thomas say hello to the nymphs. They are nature spirits that live in most of the plant life found around the world.” 

“Uh, hello.” The nymphs are suddenly surrounding him, tugging at his clothes and touching his skin curiously, making a range of chattering sounds as they excitedly bounce around him like a gaggle of school girls. 

“Apologies for their wildness, there is not much one can do in manners when it comes to nature. They are just trying to get to know you, touch being one of the ways they primarily communicate with one another alongside gestures. I believe you humans have something similar called sign language, correct?” 

“Yeah, people with hearing impairments usually grow up learning it.” Thomas squeaks when one of them touches his butt, jumping away with a light blush. The nymphs collectively make a sound like a chorus of giggling. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Leave him be, you little heathens.” Logan fondly shoos the nymphs away from Thomas. “There’s a reason in myths why men would often be running after them, ugh, the little beasts will tease until you give chase before disappearing. A game of theirs that’s usually harmless but not everyone appreciates.” 

“I--” Thomas again jumps, a sudden ringing and buzzing from his pocket as his phone goes off. 

Logan flinches away, wide eyed. “What on earth is that?” 

“Shoot, I hadn’t realized I left that on.” Thomas sheepishly takes out his phone. Looked like Joan was trying to call and check on him, but the service didn’t look like it was going to cut it to make a functioning call. He can try texting him real quick. As he does this, Logan creeps closer till they are practically butting heads. 

“What is that?’ 

“Have you never seen a cell phone before?” Thomas peers at him after sending the text. 

“There is the telephone on the wall in the house, but I have never seen something like this, is this some kind of advanced  rune magic? No, that can’t be it, you humans don’t use magic anymore. Technology, then, correct?” 

“Uh, yeah, It’s technology, it’s like a mini computer in your hand, if that makes sense?” 

“Not really, I have no idea what a computer is.” 

“Oh.” 

Well, guess the first thing he is going to need to do to the house is get some proper wifi and a computer. He’s sure Logan would have a blast with the internet...Or possibly want to destroy it. It could go either way. 

A loud shriek goes off further in the forest drawing their attention. Logan stands straight, looking off to the distance and ears up twitching slightly. A few of the nymphs have appeared again, feverently chattering to him, looking upset. 

“There’s a problem, let’s go.” 

Shit! Thomas could hardly keep up with his long legs as Logan runs expertly through the woods. He has nocked his bow, that can’t be a good sign. 

Going a bit further into the woods, the trees noticeably becoming much larger as they traverse to a large clearing, finally slowing down, Thomas leans against a tree to catch his breath as Logan continues on ahead. Remy went with him without a second glance. In the clearing stood three gryphons, all looking rather disgruntled and upset, screeching at each other angrily. 

Logan raises a hand towards them, giving a sharp whistle to announce his presence. Each of them turn to him with more angry sounds. “Shush, what's got you all upset? Shouting amongst yourselves will solve nothing.”

They ruffle their feathers unhappily, trilling restlessly at him. Thomas approaches slowly, he’s watched Harry Potter, he knows how this works. Of course, that doesn’t make it any less scary when the giant angry creatures turn their gaze to him. 

“Thomas, I suggest you don’t come any closer. Gryphons can be quite-- what are you doing?’ 

Thomas cautiously bows to the gryphons, feeling a bit ridiculous as he glances at them. Everyone is staring at him.

Logan watches with surprise as the gryphons bow back, puffing out their chests and pleased with this show of respect as they straighten. “What? You said you didn’t know anything about magical creatures!” 

He chuckles abashedly. “Ok, well, um, I don’t really, I just remember a few things that Hagrid said in Harry Potter, that gryphons should be treated with high respect was one of them.” 

The gryphons seem to like this response, chirping happily. Logan looks rather bewildered. “I don’t know who this Hagrid or what Harry Potter is, but you just earned their undeniable respect easily! That takes years to earn!” Logan frowns, putting a hand to his chin. “I will need to study this man you speak of later, he seems to have a good knowledge of magical creatures.” 

“I’d be glad to show you the movies sometime.” 

Logan furrows his brows, opening his mouth to ask a question when something bursts from the tree line, screeching furiously, causing Remy to yowl  loudly in alarm. “Fuck!” 

The gryphons shriek angrily, stomping and flapping their wings at the new creature in the area. It seemed to be a deer-like creature, covered in shimmering teal and gold feathers. It’s hind legs ended in wickedly sharp talons that it dug into the ground. It had a gorgeous peacock tail that it spread angrily, stomping its hooves and throwing its head, showing off it’s antlers. It screeched at the gryphons again, baring too-sharp teeth and flapping it’s gleaming wings. 

“Thomas, I suggest heading home as I try to get this peryton back to its proper territory,” Logan says calmly as he nocks an arrow back, shooting it to the ground near the creature’s feet, startling it in the opposite direction a few steps, flapping its wings some more with an angry, spooked snort.

“But--”

“Go!”

Thomas’s breath catches in his throat, watching Logan and the gryphons continue to shepherd the creature back towards the trees. He feels Remy rubbing against his leg, insistently, glancing at the cat before he can find himself move again and do as he is told. 

Hurriedly, he follows Remy back, hardly paying attention to the trees as they rush past him. His lungs shudder harshly with the need for oxygen as he runs, having been quite far from the house. When he makes it back to the house he quickly shuts the door, leaning his back onto it as he steadies himself. Taking extra care to take deep breaths and calm his heart rate. 

His scars seem to burn with the memories that seem to be taking joy in torturing him at the moment, brought back by the startling encounter. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Wait a moment, that burning wasn’t just in his head. Reaching under the collar of his shirt, he takes out the small amulet he always wore. When he was younger, after the accident in the woods his grandfather had given it to him, promising it would keep him safe. It had originally been his, taking it from around his neck to give to Thomas. And so Thomas had kept it, always wearing it for good luck, in a way. 

He’d never suspected it was anything other than an old locket, though by what Logan said, it seemed to be more. 

Curiously, Thomas held it in his palm. The metal of the locket seemed to be heating up a bit and glowing a slight red. Something scratched at the door and he turned. It was probably Remy, right?

Something stopped him from opening the door though, a cold feeling of dread as he spots Remy a few feet away, fur raised, baring his teeth and hissing. 

He doesn’t move, holding his breath he hears something breath heavily outside with a strange inhuman noise. If it were Logan he would have spoken up and attempted to open the door to just come in, he reasoned.

The amulet burned in his hand, pulsing as the red glow grew stronger. He winces, dropping it and letting it fall to rest back around his neck again, the burning smothered slightly by the fabric of his shirt. There are more scraping sounds from outside before it goes silent. Remy quiets down, still wary.

The amulet slowly cools and loses its glow.

Whatever had followed him seemed to have left. He found himself too frightened to turn and check the window, for fear it may be there. Remy comes over to him and mrowed. 

He waits a moment more, just to be sure whatever creature that had been there was gone before finally taking a desperate breath of air and sliding to the ground with relief. Remy happily plops himself into Thomas’ lap, butting his head against his chin. 

He’s going to need to talk to Logan about that when he returns. 

Unaware of the old claw marks in the door frame, left by that very creature long ago.

[secretlyatargaryen]

ASOIAF and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court

I don’t know if anyone has talked about this, but I know that there’s been some discussion of GRRM being influenced (directly or indirectly) by Mark Twain and, specifically in his novel Fevre Dream, which certainly invokes Huck Finn. I’ve also seen a review of Tyrion’s ADWD journey described as “a drunken Huckleberry Finn.” Which is a flippant description that, on the surface, refers to Tyrion’s literal riverboat journey, but Tyrion’s narrative also carries with it a Twainian edge of satire, and his journey in ADWD is one that deals with classism, slavery, and exile in similar ways as Twain’s famous novel, while Tyrion, like Huck, also occupies a liminal space where he is positioned to understand issues of privilege and marginalization.

But I think a greater comparison could be made between one of Twain’s somewhat lesser known novels and also one of my favorites, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.

Most people know this story by its many screen adaptations, as a time-travel comedy, and it is, but it’s also, as is consistent with Twain, a witty, brilliant social satire. In Connecticut Yankee, Twain uses the backdrop of Arthurian England to brutally deconstruct social issues, and tackles classism, slavery, and chivalry in ways similar to GRRM. The first time I read about the Yankee I read it as an adventure story, then I read it in college for a dystopian lit class, and it was the only book on the reading list that isn’t technically dystopian literature, but the society it portrays, like the one in A Song of Ice and Fire, is definitely a feudal dystopia. I’m going to start with some surface level thematic similiarities.

On words:

Here’s Connecticut Yankee:

“Words are only painted fire, a look is the fire itself.”  

And ASOIAF (multiple times)

“Words are wind.”

On the human heart:

Connecticut Yankee:

“You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns.”

GRRM:

“The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself” (quoting William Faulkner)

On rulership:

Here’s where it gets meaty and where I think the two stories have the most in common.

Connecticut Yankee:

The fact is, the king was a good deal more than a king, he was a man; and when a man is a man, you can't knock it out of him.

and

Unlimited power is the ideal thing when it is in safe hands. The despotism of heaven is the one absolutely perfect government, and earthly despotism would be the absolute perfect earthly government if the conditions were the same; namely the despot the perfectest individual of the human race, and his lease of life perpetual; but as a perishable, perfect man must die and leave his despotism in the hands of an imperfect successor, an earthly despotism is not merely a bad form of government, it is the worst form that is possible.

ASOIAF frequently deconstructs the idealization of kings and queens, and the noble class is repeatedly portrayed as fallable and only human, sometimes to tragic ends. There’s an extended plotline in Connecticut Yankee where the Yankee and the King disguise themselves in order to live among the common folk and figure out how to build a better government, at one point ending up enslaved. GRRM also forces several of his noble-born characrters, especially the ones who are positioned to be rulers, to be confronted with the lives of the smallfolk, live among them (sometimes in disguise) or be confronted with the reality of slavery or even live as slaves themselves.

Connecticut Yankee again:

There was a slight noise from the direction of the dim corner where the ladder was. It was the king descending. I could see that he was bearing something in one arm, and assisting himself with the other. He came forward into the light; upon his breast lay a slender girl of fifteen. She was but half conscious; she was dying of smallpox. Here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility, its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth of gold to gaze and applaud; and yet the king’s bearing was as serenely brave as it had always been in those cheaper contests where knight meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. He was great now; sublimely great. The rude statues of his ancestors in his palace should have an addition—I would see to that; and it would not be a mailed king killing a giant or a dragon, like the rest, it would be a king in commoner’s garb bearing death in his arms that a peasant mother might look her last upon her child and be comforted.

And that, my friends, is how you deconstruct feudalism, chivalry, classism, divine right of rulership and what makes a hero a hero.

Here’s Dany in ASOIAF:

“Go if you wish, ser. I will not detain you. I will not detain any of you.” Dany vaulted down from the horse. “I cannot heal them, but I can show them that their Mother cares.”

Jhogo sucked in his breath. “Khaleesi, no.”

The bell in his braid rang softly as he dismounted. “You must not get any closer. Do not let them touch you! Do not!”

Dany walked right past him. There was an old man on the ground a few feet away, moaning and staring up at the grey belly of the clouds. She knelt beside him, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and pushed back his dirty grey hair to feel his brow. “His flesh is on fire. I need water to bathe him. Seawater will serve. Marselen, will you fetch some for me? I need oil as well, for the pyre. Who will help me burn the dead?”

Contrast Dany and the King in disguise, doing something as simple as showing compassion to the sick and dying, behaving more like a hero than any knight on a battlefield, with the riot in King’s Landing where a mother presents her dead child as an indictment of the failings of the ruling class.

Halfway along the route, a wailing woman forced her way between two watchmen and ran out into the street in front of the king and his companions, holding the corpse of her dead baby above her head. It was blue and swollen, grotesque, but the real horror was the mother's eyes. Joffrey looked for a moment as if he meant to ride her down, but Sansa Stark leaned over and said something to him. The king fumbled in his purse, and flung the woman a silver stag. The coin bounced off the child and rolled away, under the legs of the gold cloaks and into the crowd, where a dozen men began to fight for it. The mother never once blinked. Her skinny arms were trembling from the dead weight of her son.

Sansa tries to influence Joffrey here, but of course she can’t make Joffrey show real compassion or truly understand the plight of the smallfolk. And even though Sansa is sympathetic to their plight, those who get abused by those in power don’t see her as any different than the sadistic ones, like Joffrey.

On heredity and inheriting the sins of the past:

Connecticut Yankee:

We speak of nature; it is folly; there is no such thing as nature; what we call by that misleading name is merely heredity and training. We have no thoughts of our own, no opinions of our own; they are transmitted to us, trained into us.

ASOIAF:

It all goes back and back, Tyrion thought, to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads. 

On knighthood:

A Connecticut Yankee:

“You see, he was going for the Holy Grail. The boys all took a flier at the Holy Grail now and then. It was a several years' cruise. They always put in the long absence snooping around, in the most conscientious way, though none of them had any idea where the Holy Grail really was, and I don't think any of them actually expected to find it, or would have known what to do with it if he had run across it.”

In Twain’s novel, the knights are mostly ridiculous, violent idiots obsessed with honor and pointless questing.

In ASOIAF:

"He likes the stories where the knights fight monsters."

“Sometimes the knights are the monsters.”

In Connecticut Yankee, there is an incredible subplot where the Yankee is convinced by a princess to go on a quest to slay a bunch of ogres who have supposedly captured princesses and held them in a castle. When they get there, it turns out that the “castle” is a pigsty, the “princesses” the pigs, and the “ogres” some poor swineherds.

I left Sandy kneeling there, corpse-faced but plucky and hopeful, and rode down to the pigsty, and struck up a trade with the swine-herds. I won their gratitude by buying out all the hogs at the lump sum of sixteen pennies, which was rather above latest quotations. I was just in time; for the Church, the lord of the manor, and the rest of the tax-gatherers would have been along next day and swept off pretty much all the stock, leaving the swine-herds very short of hogs and Sandy out of princesses. But now the tax people could be paid in cash, and there would be a stake left besides. One of the men had ten children; and he said that last year when a priest came and of his ten pigs took the fattest one for tithes, the wife burst out upon him, and offered him a child and said:

“Thou beast without bowels of mercy, why leave me my child, yet rob me of the wherewithal to feed it?”

This is satire at its most ridiculous and over-the-top, but it’s also a pretty searing deconstruction of the futility of chivalry, more obsessed with romantic notions of honor and fighting against imagined monsters than its supposed goal of protecting the weak.

A Connecticut Yankee ends in a failed attempt at revolution but with the possibility of hope for the modern world. Perhaps this is what GRRM is trying to tell us as well.

[pretend-writer]

Down Below (Chapter 45)

Summary: Y/N Reyes lands on Earth with the rest of the 99 prisoners. Being one of the first people to come back “home” after 97 years of living in space, she learns what it’s like to finally live in this planet.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 1853 words

Warning: swearing, mention of death

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I walked for what felt like days, the sun was in my eyes and I was dying of thirst. Not to mention my head was throbbing and I felt sick also.

Arkadia must be warned that war was coming and we needed to stop them before Roan attacked our only source of living during Praimfaya.

Needing a small break from walking, I sat on a boulder and took a breath. It wasn’t long until I heard giant footsteps coming from behind.

Azgeda

Flipping the spear to where the arrow pointed upward, I starred at the crowd walking toward me. They were on their way to Arkadia.

‘Skaikru, what are you doing here?’ Roan shouted as he got off his horse.

'Finding my way back home after this bitch killed my friend and tried to kill me too.’ I glared at Echo, 'Thanks to you, I have a concussion.’

'Thanks to me, you’re not dead.’ Echo smirked.

I shook my head, 'Which proves that you’re not a great warrior. You can’t even finish your job. Didn’t Roan want me dead and Octavia alive?’

She hopped off her horse angrily, stomping towards me and grabbed onto the collar of my shirt. I chuckled, 'Is this how you treat someone who saved you from Mount Weather?’

'Stop.’ Roan mumbled.

Ignoring him, we continued our argument. Echo grabbed onto me tighter. 'Which is why I left you alive, Y/N.’

'You are a coward. Roan wanted her alive and you dropped her down the cliff. You were scared she was going to kill y-’

Echo swung her arm towards my face, luckily I saw it coming and dodged it. As I swiped her hand off my collar, I kicked her on the stomach.

'I said enough!’ Roan screamed as Echo quickly got up from the ground.

'You are enemy of Skaikru. I don’t have to listen to you.’

Roan smirked and held his hand up, motioning the guards to follow his order. The guards pulled two of their prisoners to the front of the crowd. With the hood on their heads, I was unable to identify them.

'Might want to think again.’ Roan murmured as the two guards pulled the bag off of their head. Bellamy and Marcus looked at me wide eyed.

'You’re alive…’ Marcus spoke hesitantly with his jaw dropped, not believing what he was seeing. 'Echo told us you and Octavia were both dead.’

'She kept me alive but Octavia…’ Flashbacking to Octavia falling off the cliff was engraved in my head. I bit my lip, trying to not get angry over it.

Bellamy was teary eyed, 'You don’t know how happy I am to see you, Y/N.’

Roan groaned and rolled his eyes, 'Do you mind? We’re trying to get to Arkadia.’

'Honestly…’ I paused for a while before I continued on with the conversation, 'Knock yourself out. Like I give a shit.’

'What are you talking about?’ Marcus inquired. 'Monkey, it’s our home.’

'A home that I don’t have a say in staying or not. Clarke made it very clear that I’m not welcomed when Praimfaya comes.’

Roan nodded, 'Wow. You guys are some messed up people. Killing your own?’

'I didn’t make those rules. Matter of fact, no one did. She just does whatever to save her own ass.’

'You don’t want Ice Nation invading our only source of shelter.’ Bellamy spoke softly.

'Yeah, I don’t.’ I gripped on the spear tightly, 'But I’m tired of fighting for people that won’t fight for me.’

Bellamy stared at me with sad eyes. I couldn’t quite grasp why he was, 'Y/N, I’m sorry.’

'None of this is your fault.’ I had to keep a straight face, at least in front of Azgeda.

My head was hurting and I missed Bellamy; all I wanted to do was burst into tears and cry.

Deep down, I know that Bellamy didn’t intend to keep me off the list, I know that he tried his best for me. It was just a strange reaction from fear because I didn’t know how to respond after hearing that my only fate was death.

I was starting to think that maybe that all of it was meant to happen. Perhaps I’m not supposed to make it after Praimfaya. This was the end of the road for me, but I didn’t want it to be.

'Y/N.’ Bellamy called for my name once again, watching me in my own thoughts. 'Look at me.’

Raising my head to look into his eyes, I tried hard not to shed a tear. He gave a soft smile, 'We’re going to get through this. Together.’

'Cute, but what are you going to do with that?’ Roan chuckled as he pointed behind me.

A huge body of fire rose up to flames, high as the clouds. The flames kept getting bigger and bigger; It was Arkadia.

'Guess we’re all dead now.’ Echo commented.

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Marcus, Bellamy, Roan and the rest of Azgeda ran through the forests with me, approaching the smokey, red body of fire we used to call home.

As we got closer, we saw all of our people kneeling in front of Arkadia, watching the whole thing slowly collapse.

'What happened?’ I questioned Clarke, the first person I saw at the area.

'We were all getting ready to meet Ice Nation half way to make alliance once again an-.’ She paused, 'It happened so quickly, I don’t know either.’

'Wait, alliance? How did you know Ice Nation was on their way?’ Bellamy came into the conversation as well.

Clarke pointed to her right, 'Octavia came and warned us.’

'Octa-’ I mumbled, not believe what I just heard.

Bellamy and I ran towards Octavia, then saw an unfamiliar man holding her in his arms. He looked up at us with a frightened expression on his face, 'I-I tried to save her.’

'No, you tried to kill us. Not to mention ruined Skaikru’s home in the process.’ Niylah stepped in. 'Don’t try to play the victim, Ilian.’

'I-I’m s-’ Before Ilian was able to talk, Bellamy shoved him down the ground.

He took his fist and punched Ilian in the face, 'Who the hell are you to come to our home and blow it all up?’

'Bell, stop.’ I shouted but Bellamy didn’t stop beating him up as if he couldn’t hear me at all. 'Bellamy!’

Quickly running towards him, I pulled his shoulder to try to get him off of Ilian. He turned around and looked at me with tears in his eyes.

Placing my hand on his chest, I tried to comfort him and calm his heavy breathing. Bellamy rested his head on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my body.

'We need to check on Octavia.’ I whispered as I ran my fingers through his hair.

He nodded. 'Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.’

Ilian groaned and slowly got up, wiping the blood on his shirt. He limped towards me, 'Thank you.’

'I didn’t do it to save you.’ I replied harshly. Pulling Bellamy with me, we went back to where Octavia was before.

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'How was the meeting?’ I sat on Bellamy’s bed as I watched him pack for a new mission.

'Monty said that the majority of the rooms and generators are ruined from the fire so we’re going with the nightblood plan now. Clarke, Roan and I are delivering hydrazine to Raven and Abby.’

He also explained that a nightblood can only be available for us if it’s created in an environment where there’s no gravity. Which meant that Raven and the others had to go to space.

The whole thought of Raven going to space scared me. Abby mentioned that she was having seizures and other health issues; I didn’t want her to push herself too much to a point where she harms herself or worse.

It’s been a while since I saw my sister and now more than ever, I wanted to see her. With the world possibly ending and Raven’s stubbornness to not ending the research, I knew that I had to go see her.

However, the concussion that Echo and her guards left got me benched for this mission.

'So we’re going to forget that Roan tried to raid our camp before all of this happened?’ I tried to talk about something else to keep my mind off of Raven.

Bellamy shrugged, 'All I know is that war or no war, we’re all going to die if we don’t cooperate and help each other.’

'Hm, I guess so.’ I noticed that his tone of voice was different. 'Is something on your mind?’

He sighed, 'Octavia hasn’t forgiven me yet and I don’t know what to do anymore.’

'It’s going to take time. She’s going to come around eventually, she’s your sister.’

'That’s the thing.’ Bellamy bit his lip, 'I don’t think I’ll ever get her back.’

A knock on the door startled us and Bellamy scratched his face, trying to change his facial expression to welcome a guest. The door slowly opened as Kane popped his head in.

'Hey, Bellamy. Clarke and Roan are waiting for you by the rover.’

'On my way.’ Bellamy faked a smile and zipped everything up. He kissed me on the cheek, 'I’ll see you later Reyes.’

'Yeah, you too.’ I said softly as I watched him walk out the door.

My eyes then met with Marcus’, still standing by the door. 'You alright, monkey?’

I nodded, 'It’s just that everyone’s leaving and I feel like I’m stuck here.’

'Well, Clarke told me I should stay so I guess we’re both stuck here huh.’ Marcus grinned. 'Why don’t we give Raven a call? I’m sure she missed you.’

'That sounds great.’ I smiled. As he motioned me to follow him, I left the room with Marcus.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

'Y/N, trust me. I’m fine.’ Raven argued, trying to convince me that there was nothing wrong with her. The convincing however did not work in her favor.

'Nope, she isn’t.’ John yelled through the radio, 'Can I talk to her, Raven? You’ve been hogging the radio for too long.’

Raven grunted, 'I’m talking to my sister. Leave us alone.’

'Nice to know that you guys miss me.’ I gushed. Just hearing their voices made my day so much better.

'John, what are you doing?’ I heard a woman’s voice. Judging the fact that she called him by his first name, I assumed it was his girlfriend.

'Oh, you must be Emori. It’s nice to finally meet you, sort of.’ I chuckled to myself.

The line went silent for a bit, then I heard Raven’s soft laughter. 'She made a face and left.’

'Did I offend her?’

'Oh, no. She’s just a little shy.’ John replied.

'It was definitely jealousy Murphy.’ Raven corrected. 'I saw it in her eyes, she wanted to strangle Y/N.’

Before we said anything else, I heard screams coming from outside. John spoke in a worried tone, 'What was that?’

'I don’t know but I’m need to go check it out. You guys be safe, please.’ I said before I hung up the radio.

[cooterlice]

Cooter Lice

           The flare of first sunlight broke the treetops. Tolbert shielded his eyes and took in the view from atop the towering sycamore, a good eighty feet in the air. A high gust of October wind rippled the turning leaves. When Tolbert squinted, the blazing colors made the holler look like it was on fire.

           Thin wisps of blue smoke quiled out of the cabin below. Tolbert got a whiff of chicory.

           No denying, the near finished cabin would have been a fine one. Three rooms, maybe. White oak. Pitched roof, full-scribed notching, and chinked tight. Plumb and flush. A handsome stone chimney rising off the side like a Pinnacle Rock postcard. Excepting the pile of timber for the half-built springhouse off to the side, it was something to see. A real beaut. And they'd never have known it was there if Floyd hadn't crossed the river for some new boots and heered talk of the fancy cabin being raised by some boys near the banks of the Tug Fork.

           Tolbert regretted not getting an earlier start. They was already up.

           Something whistled and ripped through the leaves at his feet. The steady chew of his brothers' crosscut saw down below was interrupted by the report of a firearm echoing through the holler. He'd been spotted.

           Tolbert gave the knot a final tug to make it fast, undid his climber belt and monkeyed down the rope. Another pop and splinter exploded off the trunk halfway down. He caught the smell of burnt gunpowder as he dropped from the lowest branch and rolled up into a run, calling back over his shoulder.

           "Keep your heads down, boys. They spied me."

           He knew his brothers were safe for the time being. The old tree sat back on a patch where the slope leveled out, back enough so as to provide a natural cover. Floyd and Jim, already working themselves into a lather, alternated grunts as they pushed and pulled the saw, its teeth half-sunk into the green bark of the barrel-thick trunk.

           Tolbert pulled some snagged rope free from the sycamore's branches and ran with it toward the stack of cut lumber next to the springhouse along the south side of the cabin. He could hear commotion inside. The scurrying of boots, clatter of metal, scrape of moving wood. A whispered shout to "get up you whisky sot." What sounded like a mewling cat. Peeking over the woodpile a-mite for a better look, he saw the long muzzle of a single-shot pokestock edging onto the sill of the far window.

           He coiled a bundle of rope slack and threw it up and over the new cedar shingling to the north side of the cabin, then ran to retrieve it and took off toward the outcropping of rock forty paces back, where Alifair was hiding with the mules. Tolbert chucked the rope over the rock and ducked behind it.

           Alifair was sitting on her haunches feeding a tater to Gabby, her favorite.

           "They shooting this way?”

           She scratched herself and spat. “Nothing yet.”  

           Alifair was almost seventeen, a momma now, with a new baby boy. Tolbert was less than a year older, but to him she'd always be his baby sister. Chip-toothed grin, too many freckles. He’d been soft on her since she was a turnip, and to be truthful, a titch afeared. She was headstrong and easily riled. He'd heard it many a time. Alifair was sumptin' else.

            The sawing had stopped. Over the soft rush of the Tug Fork now echoed the thock of swinging axes, Floyd and Jim making fast work of it. Whoever had been shooting weren’t now, likely because they couldn’t see who to shoot.

           Tolbert began to haul in the rope. The quicker he could get it pulled taut over the cabin, the better their chance of staying hid.

           When he got the rope running tight from the top of the giant tree, he hitched it to the wooden yoke fitted on Gabby and Gwinever. If his brothers kept up the pace, there were no sudden gusts of wind, and the mules put their backs into it and drug as they were told, they’d have this show-off of a home bust to flinders in no time. It was Floyd who’d thought the whole thing up, fellin’ the tree and all. Said he figured it would be more fun than just burning the place down.

           Tolbert left the rope and picked up the rifle he’d stashed earlier. “I’m gonna cover ‘em in case somebody decides to come out shooting.”

           He'd just reached the springhouse when the sight of a white shirt tied to the bald end of a broom came waving out a window.

           “McCoy!” A voice like gravel in a tin can.

           Tolbert heard Jim answer with his signature hoot. Part hog call, part rebel yell. “Sue-wheeee-hawwww!”

           “Which one is you? Ole Ran’l’s eldest?” the white flag asked.  

           “Don’t matter. McCoy is a McCoy!” Floyd this time.  

           There came no answer. A distant bobwhite filled the silence. And then the same mewling he’d heard earlier. Only it weren’t no kitty, it was a crying baby.

           The man with the white flag stepped out onto the porch. Wispy gray mutton chops, stovepipe boots. Woolen trousers suspendered over a coffee-stained undershirt.  

           “We can see your intent. We got a newborn in here. Her momma broke her water early and died giving birth two nights back. Her daddy’s left yesterday to fetch a wet nurse."

           “That ain’t our affair,” Floyd called back. “Consider this payback for leading revenuers to our mash."

            “Ain’t no Hatfield co-operating with the guv’mint!” Mutton Chops fired back.

           “Hell you ain’t. The tree blazes that showed the way to Daddy’s still are the same color as your door.”  

           Mutton Chops took a step forward. “We is calling a truce on account of personal tragedy. You boys best honor it. Let the child be. Give us time to get her strong enough to get somewhere safe, and then we can kill each other dead.”  

           “This tree’s coming down.” Floyd yelled. “If you got any sense you boys’ll make a run for it. You’ve been forewarned. I won’t be accountable for the little ‘un if’n you stay."

            “Show some mercy, McCoy. This baby won't survive going nowhere.”

           Tolbert’s brothers answered with another whack to the sycamore. Tolbert hid behind the springhouse, keeping his sights on Mutton Chops. Odds were good if there was gonna be a skirmish, it would be busting out right about now.

           The high-pitched caterwaul of the screaming baby wailed from inside the cabin. Something touched his arm, and Tolbert jumped. Alifair had snuck up from behind.

           "That baby ain’t et, Tolbert,” she said. “You can hear it.”

           “John Brown it, Alifair," he whispered. "Get back to them jennies!”  

           “They’re tied up. You heard him. That mama died two days ago. Those boys ain’t got no milk, and that early-born's got to eat or she’s gonna die."

           “That ain’t our business.”

           “The hell it ain’t. My boy at home can’t come close to drinking up his mama’s titties. I been walking around with more milk than a prize Holstein.” She hefted her breast. “These jugs are fixin’ to bust wide open.”  

           “Alifair, do as I say and get back behind them rocks."

           His sister stepped forward to where Mutton Chops could see her. “That baby’s starving, plain as day. You boys hain’t got nothing in there to feed her but chaw, shine, chicory, fishing worms and possum. If’n you try and feed that girl any of your own slop you’ll kill it.”

           Floyd bellowed from up the incline. “Goddangit, Alifair, get back!”

           Mutton Chops addressed Alifair, low, cold and somber. “Go away, girl, before one of you’ins gets hurt.”  

           Alifair took another step toward the porch. “I’m full of milk. Take me to her.”

           Floyd took a fit. “Grab hold of her, Tolbert!”

           Tolbert hesitated, not wanting to put down the rifle or reveal himself.  

           “Leave me be!” she yelled back, pushing past Mutton Chops, who turned and followed her into the cabin without another word.

           Tolbert joined his brothers underneath the half-cut tree. Floyd put in a chaw. Jim kicked dirt.

           “Why didn’t you stop her, Tolbert? She is disgracing our name.”

           “You know damn well there ain’t no way to stop that girl without a bullet."

           “Daddy would be sick.”

           The three sat watching the front door.

           The baby shrieked, and then fell quiet. The bobwhite whistled in the distance, a breeze shushed through holler, a spinning whirligig seed landed gentle on Tolbert’s shoulder. Not far off, the Tug Fork gurgled and rolled along.      

           A good part of an hour later, Alifair appeared on the porch, and clomped up the hill to her stewing brothers.

           “Hells bells, Alifair, what on God’s green earth has got into you?"  

           “That baby don’t know a McCoy from turtle soup. And I won’t have no part letting an innocent die on my conscience.”  

           “Alifair. Your conscience best be concerned with avenging Uncle Asa."

           Jim leaned in close to Alifair’s outstuck chin. “And don’t forget that bastard Johanse Hatfield what left your beloved sister Rosanna with a busted up heart and his own baby girl to die."

           Alifair wasn’t having it. “That baby died from the measles. One baby dying don’t justify killing another. They’s babies.

           "I’ll tell you something. Sitting in there rocking with that little purple face girl sucking on my chest, I realized it was time for this foolishness to stop."  

           Floyd spoke softly towards the ground. “Blast it, Alifair, these are the same folk who broke into Mary Elliott’s house and switched her with a cow tail.”  

           “Listen to me. That baby in there, or mine neither, is innocents. Neither one of them stole that damn pig, or fired no shots. By the time she’s of age to do any harm, ole Devil Anse will be sleeping cold in the ground. And if we put an end to all this, she won’t have to reason to.  

           "We both sides killed, and been killed. Why pass this on to progeny who had no part in it.” Alifair scratched and spit. “Let this end with us.”

           “I’m just glad Daddy ain’t here, Alifair,” Jim said. “You’re talking out of your head.”

           “I’ll tell him to his face what I tell you. I come today and left my boy on the other side of the river because you needed a fourth hand for the mules. Ain’t been fed all morning. Bawling by now. ‘Cause of what? Knocking down a tree on a little baby girl."

           “Alifair, our lot is to avenge our family and our dead.”

           Alifair kicked Tolbert to his feet. “I’s a proud McCoy until I’m pushing daisies. I'd just rather us live long lives, that’s all. We got the best of these boys today, now it's time to pack up and go home."

           Jim reluctantly hoisted his axe and the crosscut. Floyd spat. “How’s that I’d like to know? We done backed down."

           Alifair gave a lopsided grin, showing her broken tooth. “We did no such thing. With no woman there, them boys are having to fend for themselves, and from what I can tell they don’t know how to do much but swallow and fart.”

           “Yeah, what of it?” Jim said.

           "There was a basket of clean clothes in there. There weren’t no flies on it so that’s how I figure it’s fresh off the line. I'm guessing that woman must've done some laundry before she died. Thinkin' quick, I slipped out of my knickers, sly fox like, and when no one was looking, I buried ‘em deep under all them britches and skivvies."

           Alifair reached under the hem of her worn cotton dress, exposing a quick flash of yellow pubic hair and gave it a scratch.

           “I may have fed a Hatfield young-un, but before the sun goes down tomorrow, the rest of them boys are gonna be ate up to their sacks in cooter lice.”  

           Tolbert shouldered his rifle and went back for the mules. His baby sister was sumptin' else.

[nayutai]

3 | Bulletproof

Word Count: 2678

Warnings: foul language and implied violence (this one is a bit of a reach but I’m adding it just in case)

A/N: This is more a filler chapter to set some things up for future chapters

Jungkook quietly sits in his seat as he watches his brothers throw curses back and forth. They haven’t fought like this in years. The six of them evenly divided on either side of the issue at hand while he can’t decide which side to join. He’s conflicted to say the least. On one hand, he can see why Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon are adamantly opposing Jin’s suggestion. This Laila girl is a wild card that could flip on them at any second and with the information she knows there’s no way they’d end up anywhere but jail. On the other hand, Jungkook can see the reasoning behind Jin’s argument and why Jimin and Taehyung support him in it. While Laila does in fact know too much, there’s no better way to keep an eye on her than if she works with them. Her maternal lineage and all of the knowledge that it most definitely entails could also benefit the group as a whole to make them function more efficiently. The pros and cons of each argument are nearly even.

Everyone is so busy trying to prove their own point that none of them even notice when Jungkook quietly slips from the room. The youngest member grabs his car keys and his favorite hoodie from his room before slipping out into the night. His sleek sports car hugs the road as he drives to the address he’s had committed to memory ever since Yoongi first voiced his suspicions of Ms. Laila Song. He’d known from the start that, if it ever came down to it, he’d be the one that Jin would ask to take her out. That’s his forte. Quietly and quickly eliminating a target before they even realize that the dark presence they feel behind them is more than just their own imagination.

His mind goes over all of the possible entry points to Laila’s townhome that he remembers from the blueprints he’d stolen from the city planning office. Jungkook carefully parallel parks his car a little ways down the street. He’s close enough that he can see the soft glow of light coming from Laila’s living room, but far enough away that he knows she wouldn’t be able to see him if she were to look outside. His eyes scan the street, a mask covering the lower half of his face and his hands stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie, as he walks up to the townhome. He makes to go for the back window that leads into her laundry room but the mental image of Kihyun hog tied in an alley quickly changes his mind.

Laila immediately goes on red alert at the sound of three short knocks on her front door. Cyn hisses in her lap as she senses the sudden change in Laila’s mood. Her entire body tenses up when whoever is at her door knocks again.

“Come on, Laila. I know you’re in there.” The stranger at her door whines. She doesn’t recognize the voice but whoever it is must be connected with Jin in some way or another. Laila doesn’t really have friends. Only Cyn and Miss Annie and one of them purrs so she’s not sure that counts.

She attempts to refocus her attention on the tv show she’s been binging on all day but the whiny stranger at the door continues to demand her attention. She swears that he’s worse than her cat. Laila rolls her eyes, moving Cyn to the couch cushion next to her among much protest before warily padding her way to the door. She lets her eyes rest on the hiding places of the various weapons at her disposal. Well-hidden yet easily accessible to those who know where they are. She freaks out a little when she peeks through the peephole only to see a giant eyeball already pressed against it.

She recognizes the man at her door from her uncle’s files when he backs away. Jeon Jungkook. Main vocalist of BTS and contract killer. From what she’s read, he likes to be up close and personal when he takes care of business. The man in question grins widely when Laila swings the door open. For a second, Laila has a hard time believing that the child in front of her could be anywhere near as deadly as her uncle described in his notes. It’s when she really looks into his eyes that she realizes that his true power lies in his perceived innocence. His cuteness is incredibly disarming but there’s something in his eyes that belies the dark stain on his soul. It’s a hard edge that doesn’t quite belong.

“Can I help you, Jungkook?” She questions with a hand on her hip. The tinkling sound of bells can be heard as Cyn winds her way around her ankles, sniffing at their unwanted visitor warily before deciding that he’s okay.

The feline is purring loudly as she demands attention but Laila doesn’t dare take her eyes off of Jungkook for a single second. She knows as well as he does that he would only need a second to end her. Jungkook seems like he’s gotten a shock or smelled something bad. His face is all twisted up but just as Laila opens her mouth to ask questions his megawatt smile returns.

“Is that Shameless?” He asks excitedly after catching a glimpse of the tv screen, ducking under Laila’s arm. She’s so surprised that her words fail her as she watches Jungkook kick his sneakers off and make himself comfy on her love seat. “Carl is my fucking hero. Fuck Debbie though. She can choke.” Laila rolls her eyes as she shuts and locks her front door once more.

Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the screen but he notices Laila’s movements in his peripheral vision. His hands are loose and ready in his lap as he prepares himself for any sudden movement. He’s in awe of the way she seems to glide across the hardwood floor. Her bare feet barely make a sound as she crosses the room. The way she walks is reminiscent of the Bengal cat that she owns, graceful yet powerful. Part of him wonders if she could teach him how to move that soundlessly.

“I’m only going to say this once, but I agree. Carl is amazing and Debbie ain’t shit.” Jungkook snorts in agreement. He lets out an excited noise when Cyn leaps into his lap and makes herself comfortable.

Laila figures that she may as well take this opportunity to weasel information out of Jungkook while she can. He seems like the type that’ll accidentally spill a secret or two if you play him right and Laila has always loved games. Laila is about to launch her first attack when Jungkook beats her to the punch once again.

“Jin wants you to work with us.” The weight of Jungkook unexpected statement slams into Laila with all the force of a speeding bullet train. That wasn’t even on the list of possible things that she’d predicted might come out of his mouth. Not even close.

“He wants me to what?” She asks incredulously. There’s no way in hell she heard that right. Work with Kim Seokjin? That’s got to be a fancy way of saying he’s going to put a price on her head. There’s no way it’s not.

“He wants you to work with us like be on payroll and everything.” Jungkook rambles on about the different “job opportunities” that she could undertake on the team. Combat training, negotiations, “sales”, the list never seems to end. Laila begins to wish that the young man was actually here to kill her instead. It would be a hell of a lot easier to go on the run than to be in the upper echelon of one of the biggest crime syndicates since her mother left the game in the 90s.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up out of Laila’s chest. Her cackling jolts Cyn out of the peaceful slumber she’d slipped into while Jungkook’s words trail off. He cocks his head to the side in confusion as Laila nearly rolls of the couch. What could possibly be that funny?

“That has got to be the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard in my entire life.” Laila gasps out in between each staggered breath. Jungkook pouts cutely. He was starting to get excited about working with her the more he talked about it but Laila doesn’t seem too interested to say the least.

“I’m sorry for laughing but Jin has officially lost his damn mind if he thinks that I’m about to join his merry band of criminals.” Deciding that she’s had enough entertainment for the night, Laila switches her tv off and rises from the couch. She stretches her arms over her head and politely tells Jungkook to leave.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you don’t want to work with us.” Jungkook replies from his spot on the love seat that he has yet to vacate. He crosses his arms like a petulant child. Bottom lip poked out and everything.

“Oh my god I don’t fucking have time for this.” Laila sits back down on the couch, reaching down between the cushions to her right. Jungkook is wary and his suspicion is quickly justified when a knife embeds itself in the back of the couch, barely a millimeter shy of the smooth skin of his neck. The cat in his lap doesn’t even flinch at the whistling noise of the blade as if this is a normal occurrence. “You either leave on your own or I’ll bury you outback. Take your pick.”

Jungkook decides then and there that he would serve this woman his heart on a silver platter. Call him twisted, but the fact that she nearly ended his life just then has all of the blood rushing to his dick. Laila doesn’t know it yet, but all she’s done is strengthen his determination.

“Fine, I’ll leave.” Cyn whines at being disturbed as Jungkook rises to his feet. He moves to stand in front of her, smirking at the way she tilts her head back to look up at him. Her hand tightens around what’s most likely another knife as he tucks a few of her braids behind her right ear. “But I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

The wide smile that covers his face sends chills down Laila’s spine. It’s sinister. Dark. She contemplates shoving the knife in her hand between his ribs but something in her tells her that no matter how at ease Jungkook looks, she probably wouldn’t get half the chance to carry out such a plan.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.” She grits out. He grins at her once more, scratching Cyn between the ears one final time before heading out the door.

Jungkook had figured that everyone would blow his phone up when they finally stopped arguing long enough to realize that he’d left which is precisely why he’d left his phone in his car. Sure enough, the amount of missed calls is dangerously close to hitting triple digits. The phone vibrates in his hand with a new call from Jimin.

“Fucking finally! Where did you go you twat?” Jimin screeches into his ear.

“Jimin, I’m in love.” Jungkook answers with a dopey grin on his face as he eases his car out of the parking space. He fills Jimin in on his little adventure as he weaves his way through traffic on the highway.

“First of all, you’re a dick for not taking me with you.” Jimin starts, obviously feeling some type of way at being left out of Jungkook’s plans. “Second of all, is she as hot as she looks in these surveillance videos?”

“If someone told me she was actually Aphrodite, I’d believe them.” Jungkook answers. Laila’s face floats across his memory as he recalls just how breathtaking she was in person. The plush fullness of her lips. Her smooth skin a rich brown that had almost seemed to glow wherever the light touched it. Even the way her slender fingers had gripped the handle of the knife she’d launched at him had been beautiful.

*   *   *

Several smacks to the back of his head and neck along with indignant shouts is how Jungkook is welcomed back home. He scowls at his brothers as he wards off a few stray hits from Hoseok and Jimin. They’re all lucky that he loves them.

“Jimin told us where you went you fucker and honestly you’ve got some nerve not taking me with you.” Taehyung proclaims as he flops down on the couch with his Nintendo switch.

“I was planning to break in and you wouldn’t know how to be quiet if I paid you. This is why you’re not allowed to bring people home anymore.” Hoseok falls over into Namjoon’s lap as Taehyung pouts. Jungkook pushes Tae’s legs over to make room for himself on the expensive leather couch.

“You said you were planning to break in so does that mean you didn’t?” Namjoon questions. He’s always reading between the lines which is why he’s the one that does all the heavy negotiating. Nothing gets by him.

“I knocked on the door like a normal person. The thought of ending up Kihyun told me that was the better option.” Namjoon nods in concession to his point. No one wants to end up like Kihyun.

Jungkook turns to the eldest of their merry band of misfits who is currently leaning over the back of the couch totally enraptured with whatever game Taehyung is playing.

“I told her you want her to work with us. She said it’s the dumbest idea she’s ever heard.” Jin’s eyes lift to Jungkook’s face and the youngest member can almost see the gears turning in Jin’s head.

“See there Jin. I told you your idea was stupid.” Hoseok dodges the pillow that Jin flings at him as he happily stuffs chips in his mouth.

Jin straightens as his mind races with possible next steps. Six pairs of eyes follow his every movement when he starts pacing back and forth along the length of the couch. He freezes mid step when the perfect solution comes to him. He can’t believe that he didn’t think of it before now. They leave for Japan for a week in the morning so his plan will have to wait till then but there’s no way this won’t work.

“Hobi, Tae, you two are up when we get back from Japan.” Jin instructs much to Hoseok’s displeasure. Taehyung is only too excited to finally get to lay eyes on the Laila Song. He even pauses his game to voice his appreciation. Hoseok on the other hand would rather eat glass.

“This is fucked. Why do we have to go?” he demands, standing from his seat immediately. Chips fly from his open bag as he animatedly waves his arms around in frustration.

Jin shuts him down with a single look. “You two numb nuts are the most persuasive out of all of us and I refuse to be turned down twice so whether you like it or not, you’re going.”

Hoseok continues to mumble under his breath but he knows not to continue to arguing with Jin. An idea on how to take care of Ms. Song before they return from Japan suddenly comes to him and just like Jungkook did earlier, Hoseok slips from the room to make a phone call. Light breathing on the other end is the only indication that his call has been answered. Hoseok rattles off a price and Laila’s address.

“Done.” Hoseok smiles slyly. Fuck Jin if he thinks he’s about to waste his energy trying to convince that problem with tits to take part in his livelihood. He doesn’t trust her and never will and Jin’s a fool for not doing this earlier. Jin might be the leader around here, but even leaders make messes sometimes that need to be cleaned up.

[oraclesoftime]

Futures Known But Unspoken

CHAPTER 34 Home of the Wood Elves It had been an accident really, Belle and Lane were together one moment and the next Lane was gone. Belle’s brilliant idea had been to follow after the thirteen dwarves and one hobbit, even though both women knew that it wasn’t going to do them any good. Just as they left the path, they both not only found themselves utterly lost, but they couldn’t find any sign of the others. Lane even tried listening for Thorin’s usually angry baritone, but all sounds seemed to be swallowed by the wood. Belle had been talking with Lane, both of them trying to figure out a way out of this giant mess, but when the smaller woman turned back around, Lane was gone. “Lane!? Where did you go?” she called out, already feeling the fear begin to grip at her heart. “Oh...Don’t start crying,” Lane’s voice grumbled, Belle looking up to find the taller woman was in a nearby tree. “I was trying to see if I could see the guys from here.” Belle heaved a sigh of relief. “Any luck?” she asked. “Nope. For all we know the spiders could have them all wrapped up by now,” Lane huffed, jumping back down onto the ground by Belle’s side. Belle gave a small whimper as she cautiously looked around where they stood. “Spiders...I can’t stand them.” Belle’s body seemed to quake as a shiver ran through her body. “Do you think the others are alright?” “They can handle themselves,” Lane stated. “It’s us we should worry about, you aren’t very good at protecting yourself, even with your shoulder in tact.” “I know,” Belle groaned. “Can we not discuss that right now?  Let’s just find the elves…” Lane nodded with a small hum and the two women began to walk through the forest again. For what felt like eons the girls remained only in their own company within the dark woods. They attempted to keep track of time with what small amount of light could stream through the trees, and on more than one occasion both would climb a tall tree simply to have their heads above the suffocating atmosphere below as well as an attempt to figure out where to go next. For what Belle could assumed was at least three days, the girls wandered the forest searching for any sign of… anyone, and the smaller woman was beginning to get more and more nervous. She stopped and rubbed her arms from the slight chill in the air as well as a small attempt to calm down her racing heart. “How do we know if we aren’t just going in a big, giant circle!” “You need to relax,” Lane sighed, squatting down to scan the forest floor at her feet. “We’re gonna be fine.” Belle turned around, went to snap at Lane and froze. Lane, noticing her friend’s silence, lifted her head and gave her a confused look. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost...” “Sspp...sspp...SPIDER!!!!!!!” Belle screamed and yanked on Lane’s arm, pulling the taller woman away just in time before the pincers of the massive arachnid could clamp down on her. Belle didn’t even looked back as she dragged Lane away. The spider gave an almost angry sounding screech behind them, Belle screamed back and continued to drag her taller friend behind her. The women ran and ran, each tree they passed more spiders appeared. “Follow the guys, she says! They need us, she says! We can handle the woods, she says!” Lane barked, her breath beginning to sound ragged. “Don’t start!!” Belle screeched as they continued to dash through the foliage. “I meant well! I was worried about them! We won’t get to Erebor at the same time as them if we aren’t with them!” Belle tripped over a tree root and fell face first into the dirt, Lane doing her best to try and dodge her friend’s body only to end up doing a type of somersault over her and landing hard on her back. Both women groaned and rolled, trying their best to get away. Belle released a high pitched shriek when her leg was grabbed. “Oh...Oh no...I’m going to die!!” Belle turned around to look at the spider which was a mistake on her part, her eyes widening and the fear made her freeze. “Bad Spider!  Put me down! Let go! Bad...BAD! BAD SPIDER!!!!!” Belle screamed some more as Lane appeared hitting the spider with her sword. Belle flailed and kicked as Lane sliced at the spider, but more began to appear as the arachnid screeched in pain. Lane finally managed to lop the spider's head off, only for several more to start descending from the trees above them, Lane letting out an almost feral sounding snarl and taking a protective stance in front of her petrified friend. Tears were streaming down Belle’s cheeks, the terror now having a firm hold on her. “Just leave me Lane!” she whimpered. “Just run! Get out of here!” “You fucking dipshit!” Lane grunted, managing to stab another oncoming spider. “If you tell me to ditch you one more time, I’m going to fucking slap you!!” Belle whimpered and closed her eyes, readying herself for the end when several whistling sounds resonated through the trees, shortly followed by a solid ‘thunk’. Belle opened her eyes and saw that the spider in front of Lane was dead along with most of its friends, others dashing away back up into the trees. Belle blinked and looked up at her friend to see that the taller woman had frozen, sword still clenched in her hand, Belle releasing a small gasp when she noticed that an elf was now standing in front of her friend with an arrowhead to her forehead. “Lane!” Belle called out, moving to sit up, only for another arrowhead to appear before her eyes. “Aww… crap…” “Mankoi naa lle sinome?” the elf with the arrow to Lane’s head demanded. “We no speak no Americano,” Lane huffed, her glare not lessening on the archer. The glaring contest between the two continued until Belle was hauled to her feet by another elf, Lane’s eyes shifting over to her friend without moving her body. The two elves conversed for a few moments in elvish before they were both disarmed, Lane’s captor even taking her lute. “Oi! Have you never seen a lute before you swine! It’s a musical instrument, not a weapon! Though right now you're tempting me to turn it into one!!” Lane roared as she was quickly handed off to another nearby elf. “Lane, stop! You’re just going to make them angry!” Belle hissed, doing her best to cooperate with her captors. ��Manhandle me and I handle the man!” Lane roared. The taller woman lifted her foot and harshly brought it down onto the toes of one of the elves, the archer giving a yelp in pain while Lane used her slightly shorter stature to elbow the second one right in the ribcage, him grunting in pain as well. “Lane!” Belle chastised, one of her two captors walking over while drawing a dagger. Lane quickly spun around and faced the elf, shifting her stance. Once her back was turned however, the first elf that she had brought down stood and managed to wrap his arms around her, restricting her own from doing anything useful and lifting her off of the ground. “RAAHH!! Let! Me! GO!!” Lane roared, kicking and thrashing around as her hands were quickly bound behind her back and with the other elf’s help, managed to bind her flailing feet as well. “You got yourself into this mess,” Belle sighed, watching as Lane was thrown over one of the elf’s shoulders and followed behind them with only her hands bound in front of her. “If you tell a single soul that I was hog-tied, I will fucking assassinate you in your sleep,” Lane growled, glaring down at her friend through her tangled bangs. Belle simply rolled her eyes and sighed, allowing herself to be led through the woods after her friend, Lane cussing like a trucker from her perch. After five minutes of thrashing around and yelling, Lane finally stilled, a deep pout set on her face that Belle couldn’t help but giggle at. “All tuckered out?” she asked with a small smile. “This is ridiculously unfair. How am I supposed to fend off ten spiders then have to deal with four elves that are taller than fucking Andre The Giant,” Lane grumbled, attempting to blow her bangs out of her eyes. “Wasn’t he like seven feet tall or something though?” Belle questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I’m sure we can figure something out when we get to Thranduil’s kingdom. Maybe we can even talk him into letting us and the others go?” “Unlikely. If anything we’re gonna go swimming…” Lane scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Belle sighed slightly and noticed that in front of their small entourage was the large stone doors of Thranduil’s kingdom, crossing the white marble-like bridge as the doors opened. A familiar blond haired elf walked out and Belle found her cheeks instantly going pink. “Mani nae lle umien?” the prince asked, looking at the four archers and their two captives. “Mani naa tanya nat'?” The archers quickly replied to him, motioning to both a hog-tied Lane and standing Belle a few times before the prince’s gaze shifted back to the two captives. He stepped forward and the moment Lane caught sight of him in her peripheral vision she began to thrash around again, the elf that was holding her being caught off guard and dropping her. Before Lane could hit the ground however, the elf prince caught her by the bindings around her wrists and lifted her into the air while she continued to growl. “Continue to struggle and I make no promises about your treatment,” Legolas growled. “Oh yeah, because trussing me up like a wild boar truly shines a light on how well you treat people who get lost in your fucking backyard!” Lane barked back, already feeling her shoulders beginning to hurt from the awkward way she was being held up. “Why don’t you tell your father to actually do something about those damned spiders rather than sit on his royal ass and groom his moose!” “I think it’s an elk…” Belle murmured quietly. “I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT BUCKY IS!!” Legolas handed Lane back to one of the archers and spoke a few words in elvish before Lane and Belle were taken through the large doors.After a few minutes of walking the women realized that they were being led, not to the dungeons like they had expected, but further into the kingdom and the women could feel their stomach drop to her toes. A few minutes of walking through twisting and turning roads made of thick tree branches, Belle and Lane found themselves walking up the steps to Thranduil’s throne, the elven king standing from his elegantly crafted chair and walking down the stone steps towards them, hands folded behind his back. “What is this, more wanderers in my domain? Will this bother never cease...” the king sighed stepping closer to the two, Lane being lowered onto her feet and quickly held still by Legolas while Belle had been released. “Why do you restrain one yet not the other?” “This one is quite… volatile,” Legolas huffed, pulling Lane back slightly when she started glaring at his father. “The other seems to hold a more docile temperament.” Thranduil shifted his eyes between the two women, though his eyes seemed to take a special interest in Lane’s fierce glare towards him. “You know who I am yet you continue to look at me with such ferocity,” Thranduil hummed, almost sounding amused. “You either have much courage or much stupidity.” “You’re not the first one to say that to me,” Lane growled, her glare not lessening. “So you are capable of more than simply sending dirty looks to those higher than you,” Thranduil smirked, bending down slightly so that he was closer to her level. “The only thing you’re higher than me in is vertical standards and pomposity,” Lane snarled. She smirked and mock lunged at the king, Thranduil springing back as Legolas growled and pulled her back again, tightening the lock he had on her arms causing her to grunt in pain. “You also have quite a tongue,” Thranduil growled, all amusement having left his features. “You would do best to hold it-” “Or what, you’ll hold it for me? Be still my beating heart,” Lane scoffed, not affected by the threat. Belle couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips, flashbacks of the night at Bilbo’s popping into her head when her friend had said the exact same words to their dwarven leader. Thranduil seemed to sneer for a split second before his indifferent expression made its way across his face once again. “What are two… who are you exactly? What are you doing in my realm?” the king demanded. “We’re the fashion police, here to chastise you for your dress and lack of taste when it comes to interior design,” Lane huffed, remaining firm despite the pain in her shoulder. “I mean seriously, it’s so dark and dreary here. And I thought dwarves were supposed to live in holes, not elves-” Lane’s rant was cut off when Thranduil stepped forward and backhanded her across the cheek, Belle giving a sharp yelp and even Legolas flinching in surprise from his father’s action. “Do not compare me to those filth, they are no more than the tiny rocks on the path that I tread to greater glories,” Thranduil hissed, giving Lane a hardened glare. Lane turned her head back to equal his glare, her cheek turning red from the force of the king’s hand. “Why do I have a suspicion that you and those bottom feeders both happening upon my doorstep within days of each other is not a mere coincidence? You travel with them.” Thranduil paused to allow a knowing smirk creep onto his lips. “You travel to your death. You know not what lies in that mountain.” “Smaug, a fire drake from the north,” Belle suddenly spoke, all eyes shifting towards her. “He attacked and plundered Erebor more years ago than I can remember. Thorin and the others are going back to kill him and get their home back.” “And nothing is going to stop any of them from doing it,” Lane added with a growl, turning their attention back to her. “Not even the great elven king of Mirkwood.” “You forget that your precious dwarves are locked up in my dungeons,” Thranduil hissed, glaring down at her. “No one escapes the dungeons of the Woodland Realm.” “Yeah, just like no one ever loses their shiny silver necklace to a bunch of burrowers,” Lane mocked. Thranduil’s form went rigid again and Belle quickly clapped her hands over her face in fear as yet another loud slap resonated through the cavern. Lane turned her head back to the front again to level her glare back at the king, a long gash across her cheek from where Thranduil’s ring had cut her. The elven king readjusted the jewel on his finger while turning his back on them, taking a few steps towards his throne. “I tire of this rabble, throw them into the dungeons with their fellow filth; they will learn their place soon enough.” Legolas and the other guards quickly collected the two women, Belle being turned around as Legolas and another guard each grabbed one of Lane’s arms and began dragging her away despite her thrashing. “Oh!” The procession stopped at the king’s voice, the elves turning to give him their full attention. “And starve the welp, we shall see how sharp her tongue remains with no food in her belly,” Thranduil hummed casually. A round of nods were given by the others as, once again, they began to take the two down to the dungeons. When they arrived after a few minutes Belle was pushed into the first cell and Lane was basically dropped into the next one, her bindings not being taken off for fear of her lashing out at them again and trying to escape. “Oi you pigs! AT LEAST FUCKING UNTIE ME!!” she roared. “Champion!?” Belle spun around to see that several of the dwarves had pushed their faces against the doors to their own cells, quickly dashing over and doing the same. “Bofur! Everyone! Are you all ok?” she called out, worry clear in her tone. “We’re fine for the most part lassie,” Oin sighed. “What of you two, those pointy eared fiends didn’t harm you did they?” Dwalin asked with a small growl. “Well… not me at least…” Belle murmured, shifting her eyes over to the next cell that held her friend. “I swear to god when I get out of here I am going to fucking skin someone!!” Lane roared, still rolling around in an attempt to bring her hands to her front. “Well, I think we can say for certain that our Champion is perfectly fine,” Gloin laughed. “OI! How about we trade! One of you guys can be tied up like a slab of meat and I’ll laugh at you!” Lane barked again, wiggling around the floor of her cell like a fish on dry land. A loud round of laughter echoed through the dungeons, Lane’s temper tantrum lifting the weary spirits of many of the dwarves. “This is ridiculous! How am I supposed to get out of these damned things!” Lane growled, still attempting to rid herself of her bindings. “Fíli! Make yourself useful and toss me a knife or something!” “I can’t; they found every single one I had…” the blond prince called back with a sigh. “What good are you to me then!” she barked, continuing to flop around. With a grunt, Lane managed to haul herself into a sitting position, her hands tied down by her tailbone. Falling back down so that she was on her back, she managed to use the position to all but force her hands lower until she could pass them under her rear and slide her legs through the loop her arms made. “Izz! Are you any better at knots then I am?” she called out, managing to shimmy her way over to her cell’s door. “I don’t know… why?” Belle asked, looking out her own and towards her friends’. Lane managed to shove her arms through her door and showed her friend her bound wrists. “Fíli’s useless; help me out here!” “OI! I heard that!” Belle let out a laugh and shuffled forward to stick her own arms through the bars and work at the knots tied around Lane’s wrists. After a few minutes, Belle finally managed to loosen the rope’s knots enough so that Lane could take them off, the taller woman giving a quick thank you before ripping at her bindings with her teeth. “Jeez, what are you, a dog?” Belle laughed, just managing to catch sight of her friend’s actions. “Not this time; you rub my belly I bite your fucking hand off…” Lane huffed, finally freeing her hands and instantly beginning to work on the rope around her ankles next. When she was finally free, Lane rubbed at her raw wrists while grumbling profanities under her breath. “There is going to be some serious nad mashing if I ever see any of those four again,” Lane growled. A few of the nearby dwarves along with Belle couldn’t help but laugh, certain that the taller woman’s words were more than just an empty threat. Belle gave a small defeated sigh as she shifted to lean against the wall by her cell, a small pout forming on her lips as she attempted to figure out what to do next. "Psstt! Izz!" "Yes dear?" Belle sighed, knowing better than to ignore her friend. "......I need to piss...." Belle slapped her hands over her face from half embarrassment and half disbelief. "Are you kidding me!?" Belle hissed. "I never kid about the needs of my posterior." "I thought you had to pee?" "Well excuse me princess, just gimme a sec and let me pull a thesaurus out of my ass to give you a different word!" Belle groaned and attempted to shrink into herself; now was not the time for such conversations, especially when it only made to remind the shorter woman about her own posterior needs. "Hello! Yes, you over there, canonfodder! Can I have a word?" Belle jumped as her friend's loud voice seemed to echo through the elven caves, turning and leaning slightly to see that Lane was waving down a very familiar red headed she-elf. "So here's my dilemma," Lane began once the captain was in front of her cell. "I really need to... uhh... relieve myself, if you catch my drift. You think you could let me out for a few and let me use the john? You know, from one sister to another." Tauriel sneered. "You are no kin of mine," she hissed before walking away. "Aww c'mon! At least bring me a bucket or something!!" Belle couldn't help but snicker at her friend's misfortune. "I can hear you laughing Izz! Just for that I'm pissing in everything you love!" Belle covered her face with her hands in an attempt to muffle her laughter as a few of the nearby dwarves let out their own rounds of loud laughter. "I loathe every single fucking one of you." The laughter slowly died down until it was once again silent through the dungeons. “I find I’m saying I told you so a lot on this whole quest thing,” Lane suddenly claimed. “I mean, I can understand the first few times, but when Izz starts insisting against me, that’s when I start to really question if I should just sell you guys out and go home.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Ori squeaked. “I’m tempted…” Lane grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring straight at Thorin. The dwarf lord instantly caught her glare through the bars of his own cell and released an exasperated sigh, throwing his arms over his head and stalking away further into it. “Well, we may still have hope. Our leader has refused to meet terms with the king of the Greenwood, but maybe if you two lassies can manage to talk to him, he will offer you a deal,” Balin sighed, not moving from his small cot. “We uumm… already met with Thranduil actually…” Belle began nervously. “Let’s just say him and Lane get along just as well and her and Thorin do…” There was an audible scoff from said king’s cell, no doubt insulted to be in any way similar to the elven king. “And just what are you willing to forgo for us to accept a deal coming from an elf anyways?” Lane asked with a laugh. “For all you know he could say he’ll only let Izz and I go and keep the rest of you guys here.” “You wouldn’t actually leave us… would you?” Kíli asked, looking over at her through his cell door. Lane remained silent for a few moments, some of the dwarves beginning to whisper amongst themselves. “Nah… I wouldn’t leave. Or at least not all the way,” Lane admitted. “I know what you mean,” Belle agreed with a laugh. “If you guys did end up being stuck here for the longest time, we could probably find someone to come break you out.” “I wonder if Bilbo’s strong enough to help us carry a cannon through Mirkwood?” Lane laughed. “A cannon??” Dori gawked. “Yeah, blow the doors down then just rapid successive fire until all obstacles are out of the way. Or maybe the three of us can go to Erebor and make Smaug think that it’s all Mirkwood’s fault we got a key,” Lane snickered. “Then the drake will just burn the entire forest! How is that supposed to help us if we’re stuck in cells; we’ll be roasted alive!” Gloin barked. “Psh! Technicalities…” “Lane!!” Despite the dreary circumstance, the majority of the dwarves let out a loud round of laughter, happy to have the quick-mouthed Champion and the motherly Oracle back by their sides.

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 19/08/1996

Tony Schiavone claims that Nitro is “red hot!” as we begin this week’s broadcast. Oddly unlike most weeks they don’t tell us where they are, although it’s safe to assume somewhere in the United States. 

Usually a little bar appears along the bottom to tell us where we are, but nope, not tonight. Tony doesn’t mention it either. I looked it up and apparently they’re in Huntsville, Alabama. Why they chose not to advertise that is up to you, the reader, to decide. We get right into the action tonight, as VK Wallstreet saunters out...

He looks very pleased with himself. I’d be looking a lot less arrogant if I was wearing a suit with a stupid dollar sign emblazoned across the chest, but whatever. We’re told this is a return bout between Wallstreet and Jim Duggan. For fuck’s sake. Apparently these two fought at the Clash of the Champions last week. Who cares? And who thought a rematch was a good idea?

Here comes everybody’s favourite super patriotic dunce. By the way, Tony thinks this of all times is the time to say WCW brings fans the best wrestling action in the world. He follows this up by saying they will later bring us the Nasty Boys, as well as the American Males. It’s like he’s taking the piss. We do have Giant Vs Savage and Flair & Anderson Vs Sting & Luger, which is a little better I guess. 

VK Wallstreet Vs “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan

Duggan gets a “USA” chant going early doors. Wallstreet is also American so this seems a bit redundant, but then pretty much everything Hacksaw does is redundant.     

This match is, as you can imagine, total shit. 

This pretty much sums it up. This match goes on for what feels like an eternity. Larry says that a three year old could outsmart Hacksaw. Doing a disservice to one and two year olds imo. Tony calls Duggan “a very intelligent wrestler”, which causes a confused Larry to ask if Tony is ribbing. Tony confirms he is not. 

Not even joking, this chinlock takes up at least 50% of the match, and gets applied twice. I guess Duggan needs to catch his breath a lot. The guy is not exactly a cardiovascular marvel. 

Match ends when Duggan tries to take out his trusty roll of tape from his tights. Nick Patrick makes him drop it, which causes Wallstreet to pick it up and wrap it around his fist. Patrick admonishes Wallstreet. As they are arguing, Hacksaw takes out another roll of tape from his tights (how much does he have packed down there?) and blasts Wallstreet.

This is a foreign object, so it’s a DQ right? Wrong. Patrick counts the pin and thankfully this one is over. If it was cool for Hacksaw to use the tape why was Patrick bothered about it in the first place?

“Hacksaw” Jim Duggan defeats VK Wallstreet via pinfall.  

Here’s our good friend Gene-O, entering the ring to interview Duggan. 

The WCW brain trust in full effect. Gene asks Hacksaw about the nWo. Did we not hear Duggan’s thoughts on this a couple of weeks ago? Why does Gene think his opinion has changed? 

Hacksaw says that everyone in WCW has been screaming about what they’re going to do to Hulk Hogan. 

Hacksaw is also drooling. That’s nice. 

Duggan basically starts repeating the same promo from a couple of weeks ago. Before he can get very far into his monologue the crowd starts cheering.

The Macho Man is in the house and making his way down to the ring. Please knock Duggan out. 

Macho says that he’s on “the same wavelength, same frequency” as Duggan, which is sad. Savage says he has a problem with Hogan, but Hogan is done “in this lifetime, the next lifetime, and the one after that”. I guess Macho is a buddhist? 

Gene shows a replay of Hogan whacking Savage with a steel chair last week during his match with Flair. Savage says Hogan is his wake up call, and now he’s not “laying back” even a little bit. Gene asks Savage about the Giant, who he’s facing later on. Savage recalls the Giant saying he was going to take care of Hogan, but not getting the job done. He says that “the WC(sic) world title” has had “nWo” spraypainted on it, and Savage has 15,000 stitches in his head. Either Macho Man went to a terrible doctor or he’s exaggerating just a little bit. Savage says he’s going to solve his problem with the Giant tonight. 

For some reason Hacksaw is applauding this. Not sure what his beef is with the Giant. 

We get our first shot of Tony and Larry this evening. Tony is looking very respectable. Larry is wearing a ridiculous shirt underneath that suit jacket. What’s the point? The woman behind Tony in the glasses is super excited. 

Tony suggests the the nWo have “awoken a sleeping Giant” after his performance at the Clash of the Champions against Chris Benoit. They show an awesome clip of the Giant dropkicking Benoit into the corner.

That is fucking impressive. Benoit collapses in the corner like he was just hit by a train, then eats a chokeslam.

A brutal squash.

Anyhow, onto the next match. 

Still not convinced he’s a real Earl.

His opponent is Chris Benoit, accompanied by Woman and Liz.

WCW pans to the crowd.

She’s a stunt granny.

Earl Robert Eaton Vs Chris Benoit

I’m not really sure why Benoit was chosen to get squashed by the Giant at the Clash. I mean, it’s not like WCW didn’t have plenty of jobbers available who could have taken that spot. We’ve already seen two in VK Wallstreet and Earl Robert Eaton. I would say Hacksaw but Giant dropkicking Hacksaw to the mat may have caused a minor earthquake, so I guess that’s understandable. 

Eaton’s trunks seem to have been inspired by Spiderman.

Benoit takes control by stomping on Eaton’s head. We see some brief mat wrestling before Benoit throws Eaton out of the ring and chucks him head first into the ring post before hip tossing him onto the outside mats.  

As Eaton is crawling around on the outside, Woman runs over and punts him in the stomach.

They get back into the ring, and Benoit continues to dominate. Tony and Larry start talking about Fall Brawl and the War Games match, which Tony keeps referring to as “the match beyond” - I don’t remember that tagline, and it sounds kinda dumb. 

Eaton gets back into the match by choking Benoit in the corner and then hitting a swinging neckbreaker. Tony and Larry are now referring to him as the “Earl of Eaton” which would only make sense if Eaton was an actual place, as opposed to his surname. 

Eaton misses a leg drop from the top rope. Benoit then goes up top and connects with a flying headbutt.

This one is over.

Chris Benoit defeats “Earl” Robert Eaton via pinfall. 

Benoit gives Eaton an extra stomp post match for good measure.

We see the same Glacier promo that’s been running for what feels like years at this point.

Footage is shown of the tag triangle match between the Steiners, Sting & Luger and Harlem Heat at the Clash. Scott hits the frankensteiner on Booker and has the pin on, but then Nick Patrick sees the Outsiders standing in the aisle and calls for the bell. Baffling decision considering they were nowhere near the ring and not interfering.  

We then switch to Flair Vs Hogan, also at the Clash. Hogan is in the figure four but grabs the ref and chucks him into the turnbuckle. The Outsiders then show up and beat the shit out of Flair.

Gene-O is in the back with Sting & Luger.

Lex is giving the camera a somewhat disturbing look. 

Luger says he and Sting have a surprise in store tonight. Luger asks Sting how many times they’ve faced the Horsemen, to which Sting replies “hundreds, maybe thousands”. Probably not thousands. Luger says this time “we’re going about it in a totally different wavelength”. Why not just say “way”?  

Sting’s face says it all. Sting yells that he’s living life “with a totally different attitude”. 

Why does Lex keep making these creepy faces?

Sting says life in WCW hasn’t been a cakewalk for anybody, and he can’t stand Ric or Arn. “And boy oh boy, do the Stinger and the Total Package have a surprise for you”.

They walk off, and Gene is annoyed he didn’t find out what the surprise was. Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if they’d just blabbed it there and then, would it Gene? 

Oh good, it’s Disco. Once in the ring he tries to do the Macarena and fails. What a dicksplash. 

His opponent is Scott Norton.

Norton comes out looking pretty chilled. No need to be intense, it’s only Disco after all. This gon’ be a squash. 

Uh... good effort? The speech bubble says “I stink, brother”, in case you didn’t understand what putting Hogan’s head on a skunk’s body entailed. 

Disco Inferno Vs Scott Norton

As soon as Norton gets into the ring he slaps Disco in the chest. Disco sells it like Norton’s hand was a knife.

Norton misses a running splash into the corner on Disco, who then proceeds to whack Norton on the back a few times. It’s obvious this is having no effect on Norton, so Disco in his infinite wisdom turns around and starts dancing instead.

It ends about as well as you’d expect.

Disco just gets pummelled throughout this match. Norton no sells every punch and kick Disco attempts. 

Norton hits Disco with his shoulder breaker finisher. Tony says “that’ll snap a scapula”. What the fuck is a scapula? To google. OK, it’s a medical term for shoulder blade. Why not just say that? 

That’s his finisher so you’d think that would be that, but nope. Norton yells threats to Ice Train into the camera, then hits an armbreaker and locks in a single armbar for the submission win.

Scott Norton defeats Disco Inferno via submission.

“TRAIN, I’M IN YOUR FACE, SON” 

Scary.

Next we go to an interview with Okerlund, Teddy Long and Ice Train.

Holla, holla, holla. Train is looking suave tonight, except for that massive bandage across his chest and arm. Shouldn’t that be under the shirt rather than over it?

Teddy reminds us that he was chokeslammed by the Giant, and thanks everyone for the cards and letters he received wishing him well. I’m sure they were flooding in. Long says Norton didn’t beat Ice Train at Hog Wild because the ref called the match due to Ice Train taking such a beating. Pretty sure that still counts as a loss, but OK.  

They show Ice Train on a laptop, apparently talking to people on the WCW website, before getting attacked by Norton. 

Firstly, I love those old school monitors. That’s some seriously thicc back. How bored would you have to be to stop watching the Clash to talk to Ice Train of all people though? 

Can’t help but notice that laptop is turned off. Ice Train was apparently just staring at a black screen the entire time. 

Ice Train starts talking but I have very little idea what he’s saying. Roughly translated something like “big coward comes out of the locker room, attacking me when I’m online talking to all the soul train fans out there, all my rock n roll trains”.  

Teddy is as confused as me. Ice Train says that Norton can’t always attack Train when his back is turned, he’s got to “come, hook up, and look into my eyes”. Train takes off his shades for dramatic effect.

“Then, when you look into my eyes, you gon’ be face to face, brother, with the Train”. He says he won’t always be running around here looking like a mummy. Well, if you put your bandages on properly that would be a start. 

They air an ad for Saturday Night and Tony totally fucks it up, calling Ric Flair “Ric Flower” and then stumbling over the 6:05 start time too. Whoops.

Next out is my main man.

Lord Steven, as usual looking like he’s just walked into a sewer. 

That is not a happy camper.

Sadly no promo time for Lord Steven. His opponent is “Ice Man” Dean Malenko.

“Lord” Steven Regal Vs Dean “Stinko” Malenko

Dean’s sparkly little vest amuses me. Where do you buy something like that? 

Mat wrestling to start things off. 

Here’s a visual nobody asked for. Time to move to a different camera angle, maybe?

Regal does a cartwheel. 

He’s just having a lot of fun. It’s actually a pretty good match between two very good wrestlers. Regal is obviously not in the best shape and a little slow, but he’s keeping up with Malenko nonetheless.

Regal is sweating pretty hard. Dat gut too. Malenko’s getting a whiff of that armpit. He is not having a good time. 

More unsettling visuals. Poor Deano. 

Second half of the match has basically been a bunch of rest holds. I think Regal is gassed. Sweat is literally pouring off his face.

Stinko manages to get himself back into the game and hits Lord Steven with an impressive german suplex.

He hits a second and holds on for a pin, but only gets a two.

Regal tries about a hundred different pin attempts before Stinko cradles him for the surprise win.

Dean Malenko defeats “Lord” Steven Regal via pinfall.

Larry: I always say a match is only three seconds away from being over.

Thanks for that pearl of wisdom, Larry.

We’re with Okerland again. This time he’s interviewing the Horsemen.

Arn refers to Sting saying that he didn’t like Ric or Arn, to which Arn replies he never needed anybody to like him as long as he had the Horsemen backing him up. He says he never needed to have a weapon in his back pocket to feel tough. Odd thing to say considering the Horsemen’s well established history of cheating, but okay. Arn says he has guts and Sting & Luger are in for a fight tonight. 

Flair yells something indistinguishable about the Horsemen in his usual strange, high pitched voice. He says the Horsemen believe in “wine, women and song” and says tonight “the two pretty boys”, referring to Luger and Sting, will have to walk that aisle.  

What a crazy guy.

Fireworks go off as hour number two begins.

They try to throw to Eric Bischoff, but Flair just keeps talking. He tells Hogan that if he’s watching tonight, that “between Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan and Hulk Hogan, the Nature Boy’s got more playing time than you got shower time”. I assume he’s talking about having sex with women, but it’s hard to say for sure.

So, we’ve just had explosions and hype. A big promo from the Horsemen. Hour number two is going to kick off in a huge way, right? We’re going to get...

Oh. The Nasty Boys. Great.Look at that shirt design. An epileptic nightmare.

Their opponents are Public Enemy.

Ugh. 

Public Enemy set up their trusty table at ringside and then get into the ring. The crowd are waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care.

The Nasty Boys Vs Public Enemy

The match starts off as a total brawl, with all four men punching and kicking. Knobbs and Grunge end up fighting on the outside, whilst Sags and Rocco Rock compete inside the ring. 

Most of the match is shown like this. I assume it’s a tornado tag as the ref has not tried to establish any form of control, and each team is swapping dance partners regularly. 

At one point Johnny Grunge goes to hit the Cactus Jack elbow from the apron to the floor, but Knobbs rolls out of the way.

That’s gotta be a painful landing, particularly for a man of Grunge’s size.

You know the match is coming to a close when Grunge places Sags on the table.

In what I can only describe as insanely stupid, Rocco Rock then does a forward somersault onto Grunge...

Sags moves off the table, and Public Enemy go crashing through it.

Idiots. Rocco lands right on Grunge’s midriff. It looks really painful. Bischoff and Heenan laugh heartily. Heenan also notes that it’s pretty fucking embarrassing to be outsmarted by the Nasty Boys. Knobbs then covers Rocco Rock in the ring and this one is over. I still don’t understand why Rocco flipped himself onto Grunge. There must have been a better way to achieve what they wanted. It’s also funny to me that Rocco got pinned - I mean, he didn’t really take any damage from going through the table, it was literally all on Grunge. Oh well.

The Nasty Boys defeat Public Enemy via pinfall.

Guess who has come scurrying out again?

Of course, it’s Okerlund. I swear he’s interviewed literally 80% of the active roster tonight. So far we’ve had interviews with Duggan, Savage, Sting & Luger, Teddy Long & Ice Train, the Horsemen and now the Nasty Boys. Gene is working overtime. It’s basically the Mean Gene show at this point. “Mean Gene featuring WCW wrestling”. 

Anyway, Gene asks the Nasty Boys about the nWo. This is the third time now. Sags starts off by saying “hey, NWL (?), backfiring nothing. Everybody that enters Nastyville is leaving Nastyville like those two saps just did - face down baby. Nasty as we wanna be, and that’s all we’re gonna be. NWO, WCW, we’re right here. We’re just nasty as we need to be when we wanna be”. Riveting stuff. 

Gene says he wants to “confront” Knobbs publicly on television, then suggests that Knobbs - being a known friend of Hogan - is somehow in cahoots with the nWo. Knobbs calls Gene “shorty” in a disgustingly sick burn, then says Hogan can do whatever he wants and the Nasty’s will do whatever they want. Knobbs says they want the WCW tag team titles - and that’s that. So much for the big confrontation. 

We get our first shot of Bischoff and Heenan sitting at the big boy desk. Bischoff claims WCW isn’t paranoid about the nWo. Bullshit. Heenan talks about WCW being ready to fight whilst the people behind him chant “weasel”.   

We go to the standard WCW magazine commercial, featuring a kid saying the WCW magazine is “really cool” whilst morphing into Sting. 

Obviously it just happens to be a magazine with Sting on the front cover. The kid then morphs back into himself, but now he’s dressed like Sting.

OK.

So we see more footage from Clash of the Champions. They’re pushing the highlights of this show pretty damn hard. Apparently Eddie Guerrero defeating DDP for the Battle Bowl ring. Why would Eddie or anybody else give a shit about that stupid ring? And even if he did, what does beating DDP in a singles match even prove? Battle Bowl is a tournament, so winning the ring in a random singles match means nothing. Idiocy. 

Anyhow, after the match DDP goes to shake Guerrero’s hand, and like a white meat babyface idiot Guerrero accepts the handshake...

Only to get hit with a diamond cutter. Serves you right for being such a gullible chode. The sooner Eddie turns heel the better. What’s hilarious is that as DDP continues to beat up Eddie, putting him on the top turnbuckle for another diamond cutter, Chavo Guerrero Jr comes running out to “make the save”. Except DDP literally pushes him away like a child...

Then hits a really, really shitty looking diamond cutter off the top turnbucke on Eddie. Chavo couldn’t look like more of a bell-end here if he tried. Totally useless. That leads us into the next match, DDP Vs Chavo Guerrero Jr.

 DDP Vs Chavo Guerrero Jr

Chavo starts out with a couple of dropkicks sending DDP outside, then dives out onto Page on the floor. Page somehow ends up getting Chavo into this position:

And just kicks the shit out of him. Kind of amusing. 

DDP pretty much dominates the match, smacking Chavo around like a nobody. Chavo gets a couple of rollups but absolutely no real offense after his initial moves at the start of the match. Page hits Chavo with a brutal looking sit down powerbomb...

That gets an “ohhhh” from the crowd. The ref starts to count the pin but Page rolls out of the pin and gets back to his feet. After hitting a belly to belly and once again releasing the pin attempt, Bischoff yells for Page to be disqualified. For what? If he wants to release the pin then he’s within his rights to do so. Considering WCW can’t even stay consistent with the over the top rope DQ rule I’m not sure they really want to start adding other ridiculous reasons to DQ somebody. Anyhow, Page signals for the Diamond Cutter. Chavo however manages to reverse it into a pin attempt and gets the surprise three count. 

Now DDP looks like the chode.

Chavo Guerrero Jr defeats DDP via pinfall. 

DDP hits a Diamond Cutter on Chavo post match, then...

Starts removing Nick Patrick’s belt. Uhhh... OK, he’s just going to whip Chavo with it. I was starting to get worried as to where this was going. 

After DDP whips Chavo a few times with the belt, Randy Anderson comes sprinting out to try and calm things down. Randy manages to grab the belt off Page and Page then leaves the ring. Anderson then asks Patrick why he didn’t try to stop DDP. In Patrick’s defence, what was he supposed to do? Bischoff is saying he wants to discuss Parick’s conduct with the Executive Commitee, but Heenan rightly points out that Patrick really couldn’t do much with Page going mental whipping Chavo. The only reason Randy Anderson was able to take the belt off Page was because he snuck up behind him. 

You’ve got to be kidding me - Okerlund AGAIN? Might as well just get him a ringside seat at this point. Patrick says he was waiting for back up before trying to stop DDP. It’s really a fair point, and if WCW is trying to paint Patrick as in the wrong here it’s frankly ridiculous. Gene goes on to say that people are pointing fingers at Patrick over his supposedly questionable officiating, to which Patrick responds that the reason he’s getting so much grief is because Gene is being a shit stirring dickface. He doesn’t say it in quite those words but that’s essentially the implication. Hard to disagree. Parick does seem to have some delusions of grandeur, however, as he says “the media - the newspapers, the magazines” - Nick, there are no newspapers or magazines outside of the WCW magazine who give a shit about any of this. Hell, most of the fans don’t give a shit about it either. The only reason Okerlund cares is because he loves stirring the pot and causing trouble. Further proving that point, Okerlund brings up Patrick recently buying a nice home and snidely comments “I know the kind of dough you make, that’s pretty impressive”. What an asshole. 

Our next upcoming match is the American Males Vs Harlem Heat for the tag team titles. They decide to throw back to September 1995 - nearly a year ago - to show the American Males beating Harlem Heat to win the WCW Tag Team titles.     

The pair of them are dressed like male strippers, which always brings legitimacy to a set of titles. The held onto the titles for precisely 9 days before dropping them back to Harlem Heat on WCW Saturday Night, so, yeah. Barely worth bringing up. Bischoff doesn’t mention that part. 

AMERICAN MALES, AMERICAN MALES, AMERICAN MALES....

At least they’ve lost the suspenders. They barely get half way down the aisle before their awful music is cut and Harlem Heat’s music plays.

For the record, Stevie Ray is back there somewhere. It isn’t Booker and Sister Sherri defending the titles. Booker starts yelling about the Nasty Boys, showing how much attention they’re paying to the American Males. Booker also yells that what the Nasty Boys did was “illegal”, and we all know how much Booker hates illegal tactics. 

Oh, by the way, the announcers mention that Bagwell has recently been in a movie. It was “Day of the Warrior”...

OK. Which one is Bagwell?

American Males Vs Harlem Heat (w/Sister Sherri & Col. Rob Parker)

Nick Patrick is the official again, which is odd considering how supposedly controversial he is. If there was so much suspicion over him then surely by now he would have been suspended? Anyway, the match starts off with Stevie Ray beating the shit out of Scotty Riggs, before choking him against the ropes.  

Booker tags in and Riggs briefly gets some offence before Booker puts the Heat back in control. We get the old trick of one tag team partner being distracting the ref, allowing the other tag team takes advantage. Heat just punch and kick the hell out of Riggs in the corner. 

A proper old school beat down. Sherri is now distracting Patrick, although it’s for no obvious benefit as Stevie Ray is just wrestling Riggs normally in the ring, hitting him with a suplex.  

Booker goes to jump off the top rope onto Riggs but gets caught mid air with a drop kick...

Ouch.

Riggs finally makes the hot tag to Bagwell, who comes in like a house on fire. He kicks Stevie Ray in the face and then drop kicks Booker T to the mat. Bagwell runs Stevie Ray into Booker T, and Stevie is such a big unit that the impact sends Booker flying over the top rope. 

Bagwell goes for the pin on Stevie Ray but only gets a two, and Bagwell then gets thrown to the outside. Bischoff continues his vendetta against Nick Patrick by claiming it was a slow count, even though it clearly wasn’t. At this point they’re basically just bullying Patrick, which doesn’t exactly make him a heel.

Back in the ring Riggs hits Stevie Ray with a missile dropkick. Bagwell then climbs to the top rope to execute some kind of move on Stevie Ray, but Booker recovers and pushes Bagwell off the top rope... 

Stevie Ray hits a powerslam and covers Bagwell for the win. Riggs tries to jump in literally two seconds after the pin has been counted. 

Pointless.

Harlem Heat defeat American Males via pinfall.

The biggest shock post match is that Mean Gene isn’t around to try and stir the pot. We do get another Glacier promo though (the same one as usual) so that’s... something. 

We come back from that promo package to the Horsemen theme music.

Flair and Anderson certainly clean up well. Oh, no, that’s Woman and Liz. The other two are way behind them. Heenan says “we are live, and I mean L-I-V-E, live!” - is there another way to spell it? I’m not sure that needed elaboration.

Out come Sting and Flexy Lexy. Time to learn what their surprise is. Neither of them look particularly enthused to be there.   

Before the match starts, Sting grabs a mic. He says he wants all of the Horsemen out here, so Benoit and McMichael come out. We go to a break and...

Yeah, of course, it’s Okerlund. I should have known. He’s taken off his jacket though - probably worked up quite a sweat from running to and from the ring so often this evening. He looks like an insurance salesman. Also I’m pretty sure his trosuers are too long, but whatever. He hands the mic to Sting, asking if this is the surprise. Sting confirms it is. 

Sting says “we can do what we always do, and beat each other up, or we can recognise that there’s a major problem right here in WCW”. Sting says he and Luger know they can never trust Flair and Anderson, and that’s a fact, but all their blood and sweat has been shed “whenever your career has taken you” right here in WCW. Erm, nope. Completely incorrect. Anyway, Sting says that Flair, Anderson, Luger and Sting “are WCW”. Sting says he is demanding that he and Luger take the two War Games slots beside Flair and Anderson. I assume that is instead of Benoit and Mongo. Not really a tough choice here, is it? Benoit is a great wrestler but losing Mongo isn’t going to hurt much.

Flair has a contemplative look on his face. I imagine he’s wondering why, if Sting admits he can’t trust the Horsemen, teaming with them would be any better than teaming with the nWo. Answers on a postcard. 

Arm says he doesn’t like Sting and Luger, and they don’t have the same philosophy. Arn says Luger has “a heck of a body” and calls him “ripped”. OK, sure. Arn says Luger can’t bring “all these jiggling pecs, and all those shoulder muscles to War Games”. Not sure what he means by this. Luger will have to physically be there, so yes, the jiggly pecs and shoulder muscles will indeed be coming along for the ride. Arn says if Luger brings the power and dedication it took to build his body to War Games then that’s a different story. Luger replies that Arn can talk about “jiggling pecs and the body”, but he and Flair know that Luger and Sting have always given 100% when they’ve faced each other. 

Arn says he knows what Luger is getting at and turns his attention to Sting. Arn asks if for one match Sting can “take that albatross” from around his neck - always caring about what the kids think, always trying to do the right thing - and discard it, because to win War Games you have to do something “so violent, and so painful, that [your opponent] looks into your eyes and says ‘I quit’”. 

Sting is incredulous that Arn would even ask that question. He reiterates that WCW hasn’t been a cakewalk for any of them, but Sting says he has “lived the life of WCW”, whatever that means.  

Finally Flair gets on the mic and says “let me get this straight, you and the Package want to team with me and the Enforcer?” - yes, Ric, that’s what this entire promo is about. Keep up. Flair says if Mongo and Benoit will step aside, they’ll agree to teaming up. Gene asks Benoit for his thoughts. Benoit says he’s waited his entire life to become a Horseman, and Ric and Arn have never betrayed him, so he’ll stand behind whatever decision they make. We then go to Mongo, who says he was a part of the best team to play in the NFL, and he knows how to sacrifice. Mongo says he’s willing to sacrifice if Ric and Arn deem it necessary, but that if Sting and Luger don’t hold up their end of the bargain “what the nWo do is going to seem like a day in the park”. Arn finishes the promo by saying “I guess everybody agrees, we have a deal”.  

Honestly, this was a really good segment. Arn in particular was superb. Sting and Luger were a bit generic but that’s fine. Overall a very good job. 

That said, could this not have all been agreed in private? Sting and Luger’s surprise was actually abandoning the match that had been advertised to the fans to instead have a chat with the Horsemen in the ring. Poor form.     

Our latest nWo propaganda piece begins.

Nash says they’re in “Rome, Italy” as he and Hall do some silly poses. They’re actually in Denver, Colorado, but... whatever. Hall says it’s kind of funny to be in the ruins when they’re the hottest new thing happening. He’s still using his fake cuban accent at this point. They alternate between chatting about random shit and saying “I told you so” regarding winning the world title belt at Hog Wild. They mock the Giant and bury the Booty Man. Hall says that Luger reminds him of a movie star. Nash says Luger reminds him of Mr Ed. This is Mr Ed.

He’s a talking horse. 

Nash says “what’s up with Sting?” and Hall says “nice hairdo Sting”. He does have a bit of a funky hairstyle going on at this point in time. They call Sting and Luger pathetic. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you” says Hall as the promo ends.   

Back in the arena the Giant is coming out with Jimmy Hart.

We don’t get to see Macho Man’s entrance as...

He comes out behind the Giant and waffles him a couple of times with a steel chair. I suppose that’s one way to get an early advantage. 

Macho slams the chair into Giant’s head a couple of times for good measure. He isn’t fucking around. The referee eventually takes the chair from Savage, at which point Giant kicks Savage in the stomach and basically no sells the half a dozen or so chair shots to the head that Savage delivered. Giant pushes Savage against the guard railings on the outside and starts hammering his forearm into Savage’s chest.  

For some reason the fans behind Macho seem to be enjoying this a lot. 

Giant tosses Savage into the ring and the ref starts calling for the bell, assumedly for a disqualification. The match never started though, so that doesn’t make sense. The bell does ring but it’s basically meaningless. Giant puts his hand around Macho’s neck for the chokeslam, but Savage kicks Giant in the stomach. For some reason Giant sells it like he was kicked in the balls, but unless his balls are somewhere near his belly button that is nonsense. 

It’s amusing to see Giant waddling around the ring like this, though. Jimmy Hart comes into the ring with a chair, but Savage kicks Hart in the gut and tosses him back outside. Savage grabs the chair and is preparing to hit Giant with it, but out comes Hugh Morrus (humorous, get it?). He gets smacked with a chair for his troubles. 

As does Ray Traylor.

Savage hits Giant with the chair again, then smacks the Barbarian and Meng in the head as they come running to the ring. Savage then realises he just hit MENG in the head with a chair and realises he done fucked up, so he does the only smart thing in that situation...

He sprints the fuck out of there. A wise move.

Giant, however, is raging, and so he literally leaps over the top rope in pursuit of Savage.

Paul Wight has ridiculously impressive agility at this point in time.

Giant sprints to the back and  we’re back with Bischoff and Heenan.

Bischoff says the match never officially started. He gets word from the Executive Committee that it will be Flair, Anderson, Sting and Luger against the nWo at War Games. It would have been pretty funny if after all that the Executive Committee would have said “yeah, you guys did a pretty sweet promo out there, but nah, we’ll pass”. Bischoff is certain the nWo don’t have a fourth guy to round out their team, although I’m not sure why he’s so confident about this. He said the same shit about them not having a partner for Bash at the Beach and look what happened there. Those who don’t learn from history, Eric.

We end on that note... 

[lolabean1998]

Ali-cat part 2

Sweet pea fanfic 

First day on the job and Ali was flying round, music blasting through her headphones keeping her tedious task of clearing tables rather entertaining. She danced to herself and was perfectly happy to stay in her happy little bubble, a couple of the older serpents had waved her over to hand her a tip for being such good entertainment but respected her wish to keep to herself. She worked fast and efficiently which impressed Hog Eye and earnt her an extra 50 cent per hour for her hard work.

“So I tell you that the serpents are bad news especially the tall terrifying giant and you go and get a job in his favourite hang out?!” Cas shrieked in shock, “Are you mad?!”

“Relax Cas,” Ali soothed putting her feet up on the bench as the pair basked in the mid day sun. “He spends his whole time playing pool, I don't think he’s even twigged that I work their.” 

Monday morning was grey and gloomy, the weather had taken a turn for the worst and by the time Ali had reached school she was dripping wet, her hair clung to her face and her make up had now taken to resemble that of Alice Cooper. Luckily Cas had driven bringing a spare change of clothes just in case and was more than happy to lend them to her soaking friend, assisting in fixing her make up and drying her hair as well. Ali skipped first period, Gym class in the rain wasn’t particularly appealing, opting to use the time to dry off and change. 

“You know I can give you a lift to school, saves you swimming and freezing to death.” Cas mocked ringing out Ali’s long hair and tying it up in a scruffy bun when she was satisfied it was dry enough. Ali smiled wiping away the thick black lines that had run down her now very pale cheeks.

It’s fine honestly, I could use the exercise and its not that far.” She insisted, applying a new layer of mascara.

“Ali, you do not need the exercise, your already tiny!” Cas exclaimed doing Ali’s other eye.

After Ali was finally ready to meet the public again, the girls headed off to their next classes, Cas dropping Ali off at her social studies class before heading to her maths class down the hall. 

“See you later.” Ali called out before heading inside.

“Nice of you to join us Ali, the class has been partnered up in an attempt to increase the learning potential. You got last pick since you weren't here, sit down, get to know your partner and write an essay on the social interactions used.” Her teacher droned from behind their desk. Ali looked round to see the tall dark haired serpent she had been warned about, was the only one with out a partner. He watched her hungrily as she took a breath and made her way over to him perching quietly on the chair next to him, his eyes wandering over every inch of her slim frame.

“Hey,” she said brightly, pulling out her book, “So I thought we could start by introducing ourselves before we undress each other with our eyes hmm?” She  suggested slightly sarcastically, keeping a bright a friendly smiling on her pale face.

“Too late for some but I’ll try it your way,” He smirked looking at her a dangerously flirty expression sprawled across his face. “Why are your lips turning blue?” He asked squinting at the lack of colour on her face.

“Oh I got caught in the rain and left my lip gloss at home, sorry.” She smiled apologetically.

“Did you just apologise for being cold?” He chuckled biting the end of his pen and leaning back in his chair.

“Yes, now quit changing the subject, I’m Ali. I don't believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced, what’s your name?” She smiled brushing a strand of damp hair from her face, fighting the cold shivers that were forcing themselves upon her.

“Nice to meet you Ali-cat, I’m Sweet pea.” He smiled raising his chin as he spoke.

“N-No its just Ali and be serious please.” She pleaded, giving him a subtle puppy eyes look.

“I am being serious, I’m named after my sweet nature.” He mocked, twirling the pen in his fingers.

“Sweet nature or willingness to climb on anything within a fifty mile radius, because from what I've heard you are quit the umm, well lets just say you get more action than an under paid hooker.” Ali pointed out with a friendly smile, “And if I’m honest, I really don't see the appeal. So setting aside the obvious, tell me about your self” 

“Your pretty ballsy for some one who looks like the poster girl for a Ballet boarding school.”  He smirked “And a pretty good liar too, I would’ve believed you if I hadn't caught you watching me play pool the other day at the Wyrm.” 

“I was curious to figure out your technique, nothing more.” Ali lied, if he could see past her first lie he would see straight through this one.

“Lets make a deal, I’ll be honest with you, if you’re honest with me!” He smiled smugly, he could see the panic grow in her eyes after he called her out. Ali nodded avoiding direct eye contact with him, he already knew he had her cornered she needn’t fuel his ego any further.

“Ok, deal.” Ali agreed slowly, she knew she’d come to regret this decision but for now it was a step towards completing her essay and for now that was more important.

“Why’d you move here from England?” Sweet pea asked curiously.

“Mum needed to escape, says this seemed like a nice town when she bought the house.” Ali answered trying to brush it off as quickly as possible, “Why’d you join a gang?”

“Family ties, Why are you working at the Wyrm instead of at Pop’s?” His answer was short and sharp but his questions seemed well thought out.

“I’m better keeping to myself and mixing drinks than I am talking to people and it’s easier to get to.” Ali explained, their questions and answered flowing quickly, making it hard to think of anything other than the truth. “Are you afraid of being alone?” Sweet pea went to answer but paused before allowing himself to speak.

“Why do you say that?” He questioned smiling at her attempt to get him to open up.

“People say you have no fear and yet they also say you’ve had more girls than a strip club pole. I just put 2 and 2 together.” Ali replied casually giving him a caring but curious gaze.

“People also say that you’re living in a rundown house just outside the trailer park by the oak tree, but yet you turn up for school coming from the opposite direction why’s that?” He skilfully turned the attention back on her.

“I like the trees,” Ali smiled looking down at her notebook, she missed her home back in England, surrounded by trees and woodland for miles she missed living in the countryside. She quickly shook off the feelings of loss that began to wash over her and added to her list of notes, writing three words that would send Sweet pea reeling when he saw it, ‘Has One Fear’.

“What makes you think I have any fears?” He asked sharper than he intended. At that moment the bell rang signalling the end of class, Ali stood up packing her books back into her bags. She looked up at Sweet pea who was staring intently at her waiting for her answer, leaning close to him so others couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“You didn't deny it.” Ali whispered putting a comforting hand on his arm for a moment smiling warmly up at him before spinning round and heading out, leaving Sweet pea frozen to his spot, she now held the one secret that could break him.

Ali stayed late after school that night to study in the library, since her house had recently lost power and hot water making it feel more like a cave than a home. She had just finished writing her essay and was about to head over to the changing rooms to grab a quick shower when she heard several loud voices heading her way, she spun round too head out the back door but her bag hit the lockers behind her sending an echoing boom through the corridors. The voices paused for a second before the sound of thundering feet came hurtling down the corridor towards her. Ali turned tail and bolted for the exit but the voices behind her were faster and she could see nasty looking Ghoulies hot on her tail. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her heart pounding hard in her chest Ali knew she didn't stand a chance against the thugs currently hunting her. She was so preoccupied with the people chasing her she didn't notice the bike still parked outside until it was to late, she flew head over heels over the magnificent Harley. Scraping her arm, side and lip as she landed but she didn’t have time to do a full body inventory, her little slip up had allowed her chasers time to close the distance, she scrambled to her feet leaping into a full sprint only to run into a human brick wall only a few strides in sending her flying to the floor again.

“Watch it!” A rough but familiar voice called. She sat still suddenly unable to breath, the fear of what was about to happen to her overwhelming her, large tears threatened their way to the surface. The dark figure she had just launched into now looming over her, “Ali? Why are you here so late?” The figure asked crouching down so they were eye level with her, she tried to move away but found herself frozen and gasping for breath, sending a second wave of panic crashing through her, she began choking as she fought for air but failed. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s ok it’s just Sweet pea you’re ok, it’s ok.” But as he spoke the three thugs that had been chasing Ali came to a crashing halt, standing only a few feet from her and Sweet pea.

“Back off Sweet Pea that ones ours.” One of them bellowed sending Ali into a raging fit of suffocating chokes and uncontrollable shakes. 

“Piss off, or do you want us to beat your ass again you gormless Ghoulie.” Sweet pea spat, a crowd of serpents suddenly appearing from the shadows as he spoke, out numbering the Ghoulies five to one. 

“This isn’t over baby.” The Ghoulie threatened before running back towards the school his two shmucks following close behind. Sweet pea turned back to Ali who was still struggling to breath, helping her sit up properly and rubbing her back soothingly as she gradually gained the ability to breath, back. She was shaking all over and had turned a sickening grey colour, she didn’t look too good and had broken into a cold sweat.

“I - I’m going to throw up.” Ali stammered trying to rush to her feet so she didn't cover herself in vomit. Sweet pea quickly helped her up holding her hair back as she threw up a few feet away from his bike, her body in full convulsions now and she was beginning to sway on the spot. “I don’t feel so great,” She mumbled holding her head and stomach.

“Pea I think we should get her to the Wyrm, Hog Eye has her address, he’ll know what to do.” The small pink haired girl piped up, helping Sweet pea move Ali over to the pink haired girls truck. 

“Ok Toni, I’ll meet you there.” Sweet pea agreed, pushing Ali carefully into the truck, her body now drained of all energy she was fighting to keep her eyes open, desperately holding onto the last threads of conscious. 

@soffie-toscana @everheart12 

Masterlist

[mikesmithrhythmandrhyme]

Tuesday, 16th January, 2018

Nearly 200 years on from John Clare's writing of 'January': it had two parts - so mine does! John Clare, an English poet (1793-1864). I write this to try and get close to why I like John Clare’s poetry.

~

This is VERY LONG - with lots of John Clare lines and phrases, including three longer passages, marked by inverted commas.

~

JANUARY - A WINTERS DAY

~

January!

Truly what you’d call A Winters Day!

Two hundred years ago,

A winter weather world away -

~

“Withering and keen the winter comes

While comfort flyes to close shut rooms

And sees the snow in feathers pass

Winnowing by the window glass ...”

~

Whilst threshers first, then foddering boys,

Brave bitter frost and snow,

To start their work in darkness deep -

The only life they know.

~

The shepherd, with his plodding dog,

Dreaming warmth and sleep,

In the rough and smooth of winter weather

Check and count the sheep.

~

The early-morning farm-yard’s

Soon alive with noise again;

Horses rub and lunge,

Whilst old hens scrat for seed and grain …

~

Cats and birds and huddling geese,

Lively barking dogs ...

And roaring round the kitchen door -

The hungry, whining hogs …

~

A foddering boy climbs up

The stack of wood at maids desire,

To throw down faggots

So that she can feed the cottage fire …

~

And everywhere the winter birds -

Starling, rook and crow,

Jackdaw, pigeon, snipe - and robin:

‘Here I am. Hello!’

~

The schoolboy, in his leisure hours,

Skaits on meadow lake,

At hunters speed and careless of

Just where the ice might break ….

~

Plays football oer the frozen ground …

Rolls snow in giant mounds …

Until - friends gone -

A winter darkened silence …

Not a sound …

~

As the leathern coated shepherd *

Walks from distant fields alone,

Knocks the caking snow from shoes

And opes the welcome door …

He’s home.

~

JANUARY - A COTTAGE EVENING

~

“The shutter closd the lamp alight

The faggot chopped and blazing bright

The shepherd from his labour free

Dancing his children on his knee

Or toasting sloe boughs sputtering ripe

Or smoaking glad his puthering pipe

While underneath his masters seat

The tird dog lies in slumbers sweet

Startling and whimpering in his sleep

Chasing still the straying sheep”

~

Then supper things are cleared away,

And down the huswife sits,

Knits or sews ** and tells her tales

In teasing starts and fits …

~

As children listen silently

And quake wi chills of fear,

Trembling at these stories

Which they always love to hear,

~ Trusting in their mother’s

Story-telling expertise,

But crushed for reassurance

Tween their shepherd fathers knees …

~

Of boys who tested ice and drowned …

Of shepherd, lost and late -

When ne’er a star bestowd its light -

And murdered by the gate …

~

How witches powers and fairey feats

Now haunt that dreaded spot,

Where the hill-top gibbet stood -

With murderer’s body left to rot ...

~

Tales of midnight witches -

How they turn to cats or hares

In the blinking of an eye

If you should meet them unawares ...

~

The huswife’s tales are endless -

Of glow worms …

Stones ...

And shells ...

Of beetles …

Mice …

Of midges, moths ...

And canterbury bells …

~

We recognise these stories

On our television screens:

The more things change the more

Things stay the same - or so it seems:

~

With news of fatal accidents ...

Police-led murder mysteries ...

Wonders of the natural world …

Gruesome local histories ...

~ She tells of Cinderella,

And her special faery friend,

Who changed her favourites’s world

To make her happy in the end …

~ She tells how Magic Fountain

Turns to King and lover too,

As the startld maid draws water -

Which her mistress bade her do.

~

She tells them of the boy

Who gave his mothers cows away

For magic beans that travelld high ...

Up the sky …***

So he could a jiant slay.

~

At which there is

An overwhelming sadness in John Clare,

For the world in which these tales were told -

A man in near despair ….

~

Knowing how they’ve lost their power

To enthral and to deceive:

The adult knows such stories

Can no longer be believed ….

~

“O spirit of the days gone bye

Sweet childhoods fearful extacy

The witching spells of winter nights

Where are they fled wi their delights

When listning on the corner seat

The winter evenings length to cheat

I heard my mothers memory tell

Tales superstition loves so well

Things said or sung a thousand times

In simple prose or simpler rhymes …..

The fairey feats that once prevaild

Told to delight and never faild

Where are they now their fears and sighs

And tears from childhood’s **** happy eyes”

~

Here is why I like John Clare,

Whose sense of loss and sadness

Would have been so very central

To his later - so-called - madness:

~

Such honesty of feeling ...

Such tenderness  …

Such yearning ...

A young man sharing winter thoughts …

Aware there’s no returning

~

To the beating heart of childhood -

Knowing all that’s left behind

Is the memory of those stories -

And a real world doubting mind ...

~

This labouring man, who writes

Such vibrant, detailed country scenes:

So loving, so respectful -

Every line he writes redeems.

~

Yes, other poets wrote about

The rural, working day:

“But my work’s real!

I’m of this world!”

I’m sure …

I hear …

Him say …..

~

Meanwhile, in taverns, farmers read

The news and price of grain -

Puffing at their pipes -

And old moores almanack …

Again!

~

* John Clare’s word is ‘hedger’ - and he was a hedger, amongst other things - but I’ve used ’shepherd’ so that it carries through to the second poem, ‘A Cottage Evening’, about the shepherd’s family.

~ ** John Clare’s spelling is ‘sues’.

~

*** I created this double rhyme, and necessarily extended rhythm, to create the feeling of fantastical growth.

~ **** John Clare wrote ‘founts of’ where I have written ‘childhood’s’.

[junker-town]

The Hornets trading Bojangles for Chick-fil-A is an utter betrayal

I can’t believe the Hornets made another garbage trade.

Just when I thought the Hornets were going to avoid this whole mess in the NBA, it turns out that they’re also willing to sell out their ideals for big money from a foreign power.

This means that Bojangles’ is out next season, per the team

— Katie Peralta (@katieperalta) October 15, 2019

This is the first time the 2019 Chicken Wars really hit home. This absolute disregard for tradition and honor is disgusting. Just when I think the Hornets can’t possibly make a worse trade than Kemba Walker for Terry Rozier, somehow they do.

I just cannot believe the Hornets would abandon the Charlotte-born and beloved Bojangles chicken empire for some fly-by-night Georgia chain that everyone fawns over, being like, “I don’t know how they make their chicken taste like this!” It’s pickle brine, OK? They soak their chicken in pickle brine. That’s the “magic.” It’s pickle brine. Enjoy.

The Hornets gave away their old, reliable uncle with compression socks for his gout and excellent dirty jokes, for a younger, way less cool uncle who won’t stop asking if you’ve been to bible study and gave you a Joel Osteen “Phrase-a-Day” calendar for Christmas.

On the rare occasion I hit up a drive-through with my 2-year-old, she cries when we go to Chick-fil-A. You know why? Because their “toys” are always something like a dumb coloring book about nature, and their fruit cup always has a half-rotten grape that has expelled its innards all over the rest of the cup. Do you know how difficult it is to tell a 2-year-old that she can’t eat her apple slices because they’re covered in rotten grape gunk dating back to the Bush administration? NOT VERY EASY!

I don’t take her to Bojangles because I don’t want her tiny arteries to get clogged by age six, but that’s beside the point. It’s important to have standards in life, and this is a line in the sand I must draw.

Southern-based chicken emotion out of the way, there’s really only one way to fully describe this in terms any basketball fan can understand. Let’s assume both Bojangles and Chick-fil-A are players. Was this a good trade?

Scoring

If all you’re looking for is someone to put points on the board then the one-dimensional Chick-fil-A wins here. All they have is the chicken sandwich and its far-superior, but underrated, cousin the spicy chicken sandwich. The nuggs are fine too.

Every other menu item is garbage and I’ll fight that to the death. Their waffle fries are always under-seasoned and bland. Every variation on their sandwich is worse than the original, and don’t even get me started on their other side options of soup and salad. Horrible, atrocious. Hate it.

Now Bojangles, lots of options. Many of them excellent. Nothing excels to the height of the Chick-fil-A sandwich, but nothing is bad either. Classic fried chicken? Good. Tenders? Good. Biscuits? Good. Roasted bites? Good. Bojangles is your classic 18-to-22-point big man, while Chick-fil-A is your 30-point ball-hogging small forward who refuses to distribute.

Winner: Chick-fil-A

Defense

This is absolutely, 100 percent where Bojangles shines. Do you know the last time I received an incorrect order from Chick-fil-A, or had to wait in one of those side parking spaces? Never.

You order something at Chick-fil-A and they just give it to you, no questions asked. Heck, even when you shame order a family’s worth of food in a single drive-through run knowing you’re going to go home and binge-watch a season’s worth of Total Divas they’ll never make you feel bad. They’ll even say “It would be my pleasure to serve you,” like you’re the most important thing in their friggin’ world.

If you want to see some DEFENSE with a capital “D” then go to Bojangles. They will ask for your order five times, still not get it right, and if you arrive at the wrong time of day you’re waiting for at LEAST seven minutes for an employee to bring it out to your car.

That is how you defend the paint. Solid 13 rebounds, 2 blocks, easy.

Winner: Bojangles

Teamwork

Have you ever in your life seen Chick-fil-A employees have fun? Think about it. You absolutely haven’t. It’s not their fault. They are all absolutely terrified and uptight because they know at least 80 percent of their customers are going to be giant pains in the ass, and they are going to be busy for every second of their shift.

Bojangles employees? Sometimes they’re having so much fun they don’t even acknowledge your existence. There are times I’ve walked in and they’re laughing so hard at a joke I just missed that I’m an inconvenience to them. I like that. I prefer to be treated like the irrelevant speck of dust that I am, rather than doted on by the Stepford Wives of food service.

I want to be cool and hear the Bojangles jokes.

Winner: Bojangles

Distribution

This is where we get back to discussing sides. We’ve established that Chick-fil-A’s are trash, so let’s talk about the cornucopia at Bojangles:

Cajun seasoned fries.

Pintos

Green beans

Mashed potatoes

BoRounds, which are the best fast food hash browns on planet earth.

DIRTY RICE WHICH MY GOD WE’RE USING THE REST OF THIS SECTION TO TALK ABOUT DIRTY RICE! READY?! I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE NOT!

So Bojangles’ dirty rice is friggin’ transcendent. If you’re not ordering dirty rice instead of fries in a non-car-eating environment then you’re a chump and you should feel bad. It’s just rice, sausage, red bell peppers and spices but God, it’s wonderful. Every single person who I’ve preached the dirty rice gospel to is now a convert, and it’s as close to becoming a cult leader I’ve ever been.

Rarely can you get something containing meat as a side item to your meat. Bojangles dirty rice is also in the very exclusive food club where “dirty” is a positive adjective.

Up there I’ve listed six assists to go with your food. You always get a biscuit too, so that’s seven a game.

Winner: Bojangles

Turnovers

I once found three hairs in my Cajun Filet Biscuit and another one in my dirty rice.

Winner: Chick-fil-A

FINAL STATS

Chick-fil-A (SF): 31.7 PPG, 2.1 RPG, 0.0 APG NBA Player Comparison: Tracy McGrady

Bojangles (PF): 19.4 PPG, 13.1 RPG, 7.4 APG NBA Player Comparison: Tim Duncan

Both are very good players, and I know someone is going to make an argument over this. I love T-Mac. Exciting player, scored in bunches. Every teenager was obsessed with him because of how many points he put on the board.

Duncan? Kids never appreciated Tim Duncan enough. He came off as boring, but in the end his brand of boring won championships. Bojangles, you are the big, reliable, ever-present North Star in our Carolinian lives and you didn’t deserve to be traded away like this.

The Hornets made an awful trade, and it will be a long time before I can forgive them.

[sarkastically]

(The thing that no one ever asked for but that I wanted to do anyway)

the headcanon challenge:

Who hogs the duvet?

Chirrut. Not just the duvet but the whole entire bed. Baze got used to sleeping up against the wall back when they were young because Chirrut was always crawling into his bed for warmth/because he had a bad dream/because Baze had a bad dream/because neither one of them could sleep. Chirrut is a restless sleeper and just takes all the space he can get, kicks, flails, rolls while Baze, when he can sleep, is pretty solid so it just made sense for him to make himself as small as possible and take up the least amount of space. He doesn't mind even when he gets an arm to the face in the middle of the night. Though he definitely just, like, locks an arm around Chirrut some night to hold him close for a few hours. And Baze runs hot anyway so he doesn't mind when Chirrut steals the blankets except that sometimes Chirrut makes himself into a blanket burrito and then rolls off the bed and the resulting cursing will wake Baze.

Who texts/rings to check how their day is going?

Baze. Worrywart Baze on his phone ALL. DAY. LONG. "Why haven't you messaged me back?" "What are you doing?" "Chirrut." "Where are you?" Also Baze uses full sentences with proper punctuation and very little shortened. Chirrut's responses however are fucking ridiculous. "i am 1 w the Force & the Force is w me. ;)" "....Chirrut, no."

Who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts?

Oh man. Chirrut probably. In that Baze's gifts are very obviously gifts and are normally romantic even if they don't look like it to an outsider. Baze crafts a new lightbow for Chirrut. This is 10/10 on the gift scale for Chirrut but someone who doesn't know them wouldn't know that. By the same dent, Baze loves finding books that someone made their way out of the temple, buying them off the black market and bringing them home to read to Chirrut. And then they're love poems because of course they are. And Baze keeps at least two of the pockets of his flightsuit full of things that Chirrut just LIKES so he can hand them over when Chirrut is restless or sad.

Chirrut's gifts are harder to see because a lot of time they inlcude making Baze laugh. Or putting him into ridiculous situations that he can scoff at because Baze secretly loves that. Like getting them locked up in an Imperarial prison for the night where they have to break themselves out. Baze is going to raise holy hell about Chirrut doing this, but he is also going to love every minute of it. Chirrut is not about material gifts for the most part because what in the universe could possibly be good enough for Baze plus Baze doesn't actually need things to be happy whereas Baze just LOVES finding things to make Chirrut happy. So together they manage to collect junk constantly and then have to purge and start all over again, which is also part of the fun.

Who gets up first in the morning?

Chirrut sleeps better and is likely to wake up first if Baze is asleep. If Baze is not asleep then he has probably been up most of the night and is not happy about it in the least.

Who suggests new things in bed?

Chirrut. Hands down.

Who cries at movies?

Baze. Baze is the giant teddy bear. We all know this already. Not that they watch a lot of movies, but when they do it's Baze who gets emotional about them while Chirrut is salty about bad plotting.

Who gives unprompted massages?

Chirrut. Chirrut is always, constantly, forever touching Baze and always has. Plus he knows that Baze carries all of his goddamn worry and stress in his body so it's imperative to work those kinks out.

Who gets jealous easiest?

I think Baze used to get hurt jealous and insecure jealous in that he didn't think he was good enough for Chirrut, but that's pretty much gone. At this point they both enjoy watching other people get flustered when Chirrut flirts with everything around them but, of course, Chirrut will only ever go home with Baze because Baze is home for him.

Who collects something unusual?

Baze collects shit for the both of them, but none of it is really all that unusual. Chirrut has a small cache of items from their boyhood that he retains, though almost all of it are things that used to be Baze's when he was a Guardian so it's a handful of beads and shells and bells that he used to braid into Baze's hair. Again. None of what they keep is unusual. Some of it is impractical but it makes sense.

Who gets most excited about the holidays?

Chirrut. Chirrut remembers every single holy day and wants to celebrate all of them. (If those celebrations constantly turn into things that would not be considered temple appropriate, it's not his fault that Baze is so handsome and desirable that he can't control himself.) Baze is grumbly about holidays after the temple fall and can be a mocking shit while Chirrut practices, but he still loves them because Chirrut loves them.

Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Chirrut, as mentioned above, is everywhere on the bed at all times so it's not uncommon for him to wrap his entire body around Baze or just sleep on top of him. But a lot of the time they start out with Chirrut as the little spoon. If Baze is having a particularly bad day/night, he will concede to being the little spoon. They switch back and forth a lot just depending on circumstances and space.

Who starts the most arguments?

This one is easy because Chirrut is a menace. But also a lot of their arguments aren't really arguments because Baze thinks Chirrut being a menace is hilarious. Actual fights are rare and far between and normally boil down to who put themselves in the line of trouble first so it flipflops because they're both idiots.

Who suggests that they buy a pet?

No one SUGGESTS a pet, but Baze keeps bringing strays home. Cats, dogs, humans, random weird insects that Chirrut doesn't like to touch. Baze is a softie and cannot stand the idea of things wandering around without homes. Chirrut, however, feels very badly about the situation other people and creatures are in but also knows that they have to have priorities.  

What couple traditions do they have?

Afternoon tea

Baze touching their foreheads together before they separate, which is a rare occurrence but sometimes necessary

Chirrut "blessing" all of Baze's armor and artillery by brushing his fingers over it each morning

"Honey, hold my flower" while the other fights until it becomes obvious that assistance is needed

Pretending that they are not ride or die 

Bickering in front of new people to throw them off and make it harder for them to suss out their weak points because people can get uncomfortable in front of married banter

What other couple do they hang out with?

Baze prefer not to, thank you. Also the only other couples he really knows all consist of at least one of their adopted children, and he does not want to think about them doing couple things together. So they do not do couple hangouts. It's more like parents hanging out with their fifteen hundred Rebel children.

Who brings flowers home?

BAZE! Chirrut brings home weapons.I mean, Baze also brings home weapons, but he's the only one who brings home flower. Chirrut does then put said flowers in Baze's hair and beard because his hair is too short, but Baze is not allowed to grumble because he brought the flowers, after all.

Who does Baze talk to about relationship issues?

Baze is only really emotionally open with Chirrut. The trouble is that he will hold onto them for a bit until Chirrut prods them tf out of him. It might be better if he had someone else he could talk to about them. Sometimes he and Jyn will work out various emotional frustrations through non-emotional weapon practice together, which is sort of the same thing.

And who does Chirrut talk to?

Anyone who will listen? But the thing is that Chirrut is talking about made up ridiculous relationship issues because he has, by this point, come to realize that the thing that makes the most sense is if he just comes out and tells Baze what's wrong. Baze will either laugh and fix it or be sad and fix it or they will get into a bantering match with each other and fix it. They haven't had a really large relationship issue since Baze left, and Chirrut swore to himself to make changes in their communication after that and has been pretty good at keeping to them. But he especially likes to bother Cassian with his pretend issues because the captain just oozes discomfort and "please stop" but is too polite to say it.

How do they make up after an argument?

Either in the sweetest, most teeth decaying way ever or by slinging more of those mock insults at each other until they're both laughing too hard to continue and then the kissing starts. Or with an endless amount of comfort because Chirrut always knows what Baze needs.