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book-o-scams · 3 years

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'Sorry Wrong Ed' Alternate Ending Storyboard Sequence

Check out Al Kang's Ed, Edd n Eddy portfolio!

Al Kang worked on the show during seasons 3-4 and had roles on the storyboard and prop teams apparently. (IMDb says he was credited as Al Choi at the time, but it also says he worked on season 1 episodes, which doesn't line up with the timeline he mentioned.. anyway.)

I discovered his portfolio a few months ago after seeing fandom discussion of the alternate 'Sorry Wrong Ed' ending. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few other treats as well! But yes, I even sorta liked what I learned about 'Sorry Wrong Ed' in the process... (I threw in a little analysis comparing the two endings at the bottom)

I noticed Al seemed to mix up the order on these, so I thought I'd try my best to figure out the right order. This was the most confusing one for me to try and figure out the order of since almost all 8 pages were out of order. I think I finally figured out what's going on in the original ending.

So this alternate ending starts at an unknown point with Eddy flat on the ground, presumably injured, picking himself back up. At this point in the final cut of the episode, Eddy has just been squashed by a tree, but this seems more like a different injury, and he's not even retaining his injuries from the truck scene... The scenes with Jonny and Plank from the final cut of the episode seem to not exist at all here, Jonny and Plank don't appear in this sequence.

Anyway, Eddy picks himself up in the middle of an on-going scene, sees Jimmy drop a coin in a jar for Ed, who has inexplicably turned the cursed phone into a scam on his own. Edd is glaring at the off-screen kids, who have somehow learned about this phone and are excited to kill Eddy with it.

Eddy: "Jimmy! No!"

Jimmy answers the phone: "Hello?"

Ed: "HA HA HA"

Edd: "You people don't seriously believe--"

Then we sync up with gags that did happen in the ending of Sorry Wrong Ed, with context that makes its tone a little more sadistic than random. Jimmy's paid phonecall drops the sandbox on Eddy.

This page has the most skeletal dialogue...

Kev: "Yes." (I think he's meant to be fist pumping because Eddy got hurt, more of a "Yes!")

Jimmy: "BAD LUCK EDDY PHONE." (this dialogue must have been a placeholder)

Edd: "HA HA" (sarcastic ha-ha or did Al mean to write "Ed" for this?)

Jimmy seems to offer the phone to Edd.

We sync up again with Edd's denial from the final cut of this episode, except now it actually makes sense that he's so one-track-minded, because there are people actively arguing with him and keeping him disengaged from the victim.

Edd: "There must be a cargo plane overfilled with playground supplies..."

Sarah interrupts him.

RING RING

Sarah: "Oh, that's for me."

Eddy at this point holds Ed responsible, as he should, and starts running to stop Ed or Sarah. Ed offers no explanation for his betrayal.

Eddy: "Ed! What are you doing!?"

Sarah: "Hello?"

Sarah's paid phonecall summons the hippos, the most random moment in the final cut of the episode. Note how both of these slapstick gags were storyboarded on the same generic background, seems like the lane or an empty lot, but clearly a different location than Eddy's front yard from the aired ending.

And that's all we have to go off of!

I'll put my updated opinions below the cut, but suffice it to say, I like the episode a little better now! Knowing what the ending was going to be and trying to figure out the choices that led to the ending we got, I feel more appreciative that it didn't end up a lost episode or something and less annoyed that it was 11 minutes of one joke.

I know I have a reputation for not finding slapstick funny and disliking this episode, but violence was never my only issue. Lots of episodes have lackluster slapstick that I just let wash over me. My point that never gets as much focus is that this episode never felt FINISHED to begin with. It's just a slapstick vacuum with no ending and no point, and it used to be frustrating to me not knowing for sure if my hunch was right or not that it felt like the episode just wasn't working and they had to cobble it together from the scenes that almost worked.

I am surprised to say I like the episode more now that I know that is pretty close to the truth. Judging from this peek into the episode's development, this episode seems to have reached Danny Antonucci's and/or Wootie's (the episode's lead board artist) limit for being mean-spirited with the characters without a reason. I'll still probably avoid rewatching it, but knowing the episode has no ending specifically because it's been trimmed to bare bones is somehow reassuring.

The most obvious flaw to this original ending is the lack of motivation for Ed's or the kids' actions. The kids presumably still weren't in the rest of the episode, so there's really no reason for them to be here other than reiterating the same idea from 'Your Ed Here' and 'The Good Ole Ed' that the neighborhood kids are always looking for a reason to gang up on Eddy, something that isn't really true of those characters in earlier seasons.

I think I can imagine how, on paper (in the writers' outline), this episode sounded funnier. Trying to imagine this ending as part of the whole episode, I think the script's idea of the final joke is that Ed is not satisfied with ending the tests at the point where they tried to return the phone to Rolf. I think Ed converts the curse-testing process to a scam at that point, building off of how Ed already wasn't processing Eddy's safety in anything so far, and is probably more focused on proving to Edd that curses are real (as Ed was previously in league with Evil Tim). The addition of Ed running his own tests and the kids arguing Eddy's point against Edd's while Eddy's busy, does sound more like a complete manic cartoon boiling point than the way the finished episode just petered out with Edd as the sole antagonist. But unfortunately, in visual execution, suddenly piling in so many aggressive characters and so much random violence at once, would only really result in it petering out at a higher volume.

Meanwhile Edd's characterization is made much more structurally sound in the original ending. He's annoyed FOR Eddy's sake, and the only reason he's not actively helping Eddy is because like 3 other characters were supposed to be arguing with him while this was happening. It seems extremely apparent to me that the cuts made to this ending were for the sake of mitigating Ed's reputation in the fandom, as well as the kids', and I think it's really unfortunate that Edd's characterization was the cost for salvaging everyone else's. I'm glad I already considered his behavior in 'Sorry Wrong Ed' non-canon, because now it feels like the reason the aired ending is so out-of-character is just because Edd is basically arguing with the ghost of the original scene. I formally forgive 'Sorry Wrong Ed'. Production turnarounds are tough and AKA did their best to not turn this into another forgotten 'Special Ed' episode that simply wasn't working.

I think ditching the original ending was ultimately the right call. It was not an exemplary episode, but I can admit it's less out of place to have a pure "vacuum of violence" story than it would've been to essentially give the kids a supernatural revenge plot like this. That would've been really weird to have to accept-- Eddy definitely wouldn't want to be friends with anyone at the end of the movie if THIS was their past. Changing it to an unaware Jonny and a questionably aware Plank being responsible, indeed, was a vibe that landed much more like standard EEnE fare. It was weird enough that the kids all saw Santa in JJJ, can you imagine if they all knew curses were real AND participated in attacking a neighbor with one??

If there was a silver lining for me the first time I saw this episode, it was that none of the kids were directly involved in Eddy's suffering. It made the questionable reality of the cursed device slightly more acceptable that only the Eds and Rolf know about the curse. If this ending had happened, I would've reacted the same, but I would've rejected its continuity even more than I do now, because it would just feel like they animated one of the DC Comics (where the kids can blow the Eds up with fireworks at the end or the Eds can randomly be crushed under an avalanche of anvils)-- the art could end up gorgeous but the characterizations don't exactly land as real human beings, the balance this show strives for typically.

And I think that's all I wanted to say! In the end, I found myself liking 'Sorry Wrong Ed' slightly more than I used to, all thanks to this glimpse into how the animation production system morphs the outcome of a cartoon. Thanks so much to Al Kang, for sharing your art and this insight into the industry! I don't know whether he did both the gesture drawings and the revised art, but judging from his other boards I think the cleaned up art is his, and I liked seeing the poses that almost were!

#ed edd n eddy #sorry wrong ed #al kang #storyboard #concept art #alternate ending #deleted ending #alternate sequence #analysis

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blueberryraindrops · 4 years

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Blueberry’s Ultimate T-Rated TUA Masterlist

KEY

Fics are organised alphabetically (articles e.g. ‘the’ will not count)

Download links are EPUB files only

authors can feel free to send me a msg if they want their fics’ download link taken down

Regular updates can be expected as long as I remain in the fandom

Last Update: 14/10/2020

Other Masterlists: All Fics; G-Rated; M-Rated; E-Rated

FANFICTION

☁︎ another cog in the murder machine by Ford_Ye_Fiji { T }

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Five finally gets the breakdown he deserves

☁︎ Blood like Lemonade by Ford_Ye_Fiji { T }

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Hunting high and low to seek revenge, Brand new moral code, got made reluctant renegade. Leaving empty souls when he avenged, Evil spirits flowed he drank the blood like lemonade.

Five's sordid past comes to light in, quite possibly, the most unpleasant way

☁︎ Details [Series] by VeteranKlaus { T }

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The last time Klaus saw his siblings was at Allison and Patrick's wedding. A lot had changed since then; including the not-so-accidental, irreversible loss of his sight.

There's no time to tell them that, though. Not with the return of their long-presumed-dead brother and the impending apocalypse. Plus, it doesn't matter. He's got Ben as a good seeing-eye ghost.

☁︎ do androids dream of electric sheep? by the_crownless_queen { T }

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Number Four is crying, and Grace was made to care for those children.

In which Grace was created to protect the children of the Academy. Even, as it turns out, from their father.

☁︎ don't waste your time (or time will waste you) by rosewitchx { T }

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He was an old man. He is sixteen. Ben dies next week. How does he know that? “I think I broke it,” Five stutters, and for the first time in her short life Vanya sees absolute terror in his eyes.

Or, Five travels back again. Something goes wrong.

☁︎ Fighting (Pre)Determinism by chibi_tantei { T / WIP }

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They go back in time, determined to rewrite their own family history. Only problem is, only one of them looks the proper age to get near their younger selves.

Or, six months after Five stormed out, determined to time travel, he returns home. His siblings are happy to have him back, but he's acting differently...

(Or, Five goes undercover as himself. Twice the siblings should make saving the world easier, right? Yet somehow, he's only now realizing how many issues his family has to fix.)

☁︎ Five and Dave's Life Changing (Life Saving) Field Trip by neuronary { T }

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The little boy, who Dave could now see was not as little as he’d first thought, shoved a tin mug at him. “Drink this.”

Dave drank. It tasted sickly sweet and slightly citrus-y. “Who are you?”

“Five.” The boy’s scowl deepened at Dave’s confusion. “Klaus’ brother.”

Or, Five saves Dave's life to stop Klaus from moping. From Dave's perspective, a very grouchy, sleep-deprived twelve-year-old kidnaps him and he finds it much more entertaining than he should.

☁︎ haven't you heard of meditation? by rosesareredvioletsareblue { T }

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"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

☁︎ Hidden Variables Theory, The by siriuspiggyback { T }

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Something has disturbed the space-time continuum, and it's up to Five to figure out what it is.

With a bit of luck, and a lot of alcohol, he might even manage to do it before he snaps and murders his siblings.

☁︎ haven't you heard of meditation? by rosesareredvioletsareblue { T }

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"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

☁︎ Hidden Variables Theory, The by siriuspiggyback { T }

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Something has disturbed the space-time continuum, and it's up to Five to figure out what it is.

With a bit of luck, and a lot of alcohol, he might even manage to do it before he snaps and murders his siblings.

☁︎ i'm gonna be here til i'm nothing (but bones in the ground) by iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid { T }

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Someone definitely just punched him in the chest, right? That’s the reason for that feeling? Or that last batch of pills had something seriously off-label mixed into them. Because there’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

He squeezes his eyes shut until dots burst behind his eyelids, but when he opens them, the hallucination doesn’t go away.

“… Five?”

☁︎ if the sky comes falling down by synchronicities { T }

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The equations are still wrong.

In 2002, Number Seven wonders why her siblings are acting odd.

(Or, the post-finale “Vanya doesn’t remember the time travel” fic)

☁︎ If You're Different And You Know It (you're not alone) by M3zzaTh3M3z { T }

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Five was different. He’d always known. Different from most people, what with his freakish birth, powers and unconventional upbringing, all that old news. And different from his siblings. He was smarter. His powers were stronger. And he’d never picked a name. All that was old news too. But there was something else that separated him from the rest, something he didn’t know how to put a finger on, how to categorize, analyse, understand. Five didn’t like not understanding. It was probably Klaus that made him first notice something was off.

☁︎ Is the sadness everlasting? (love, I think it is) by ArmedWithMyComputer { T }

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A look into what Klaus' newly discovered ability could mean for the siblings.

Diego could feel his whole body trembling as he faced the ghosts, only able to take shallow breaths as he struggled to process the true horror of what he was seeing.

And then they started howling.

The sound pierced though his stupor and forced him to his knees instantly. It was like nothing Diego had ever experienced before, and he was consumed with the intensity and overwhelmed by a deep chilling fear. It felt as though his mind had been taken over and all he could hear was the shrieks of grief, more intense than any emotion he had ever felt.

☁︎ It Does(n't) Matter by MYSTERYstew { T }

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It’s a familiar feeling, being lifted up by Luther and tossed around like he weighs nothing (to Luther he certainly does), it was a favorite move of Luther’s as a child. Nostalgia is not what Five feels, he’s too busy flailing as Luther throws him over the railing.

or, Five fails a jump

☁︎ Just One Minute by willowhisperer { T }

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Five holds up his end of the deal, soaked in blood. The Handler decides to toy with him a little while longer.

Maybe it's revenge, maybe she's riding the high of her shiny new position as head of the Commission.

Really, she just wants to win, once and for all.

☁︎ Lessons 'verse [Series] by Soulykins { T }

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Five was maybe four years old when he figured out that he was pretty much ride or die for his siblings. He was also four when he figured out that in the Umbrella Academy, you could never let Reginald Hargreeves figure out what you loved lest he use it against you. There was safety in aloof indifference, more than could be found anywhere else under their roof.

Five times Five Hargreeves protected his siblings the best ways he could, and the one time he failed.

☁︎ Lethe by shoelaces { T / WIP }

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Le·the | A river in Hades whose waters cause drinkers to forget their past.

Or: Five loses his memories instead of Vanya, and it falls to his siblings to raise a superpowered teenager in the 1960s, all whilst preserving their own new lives and preventing yet another apocalypse.

☁︎ Like an abyss by fridayyy { T }

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For the second time, Five has to (gets to?) grow up.

☁︎ Like Oxygen by sevansa { T }

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Klaus's powers may be a bit more extensive than just seeing the dead, he's not sure what to do about that.

The one where Klaus's power is not ghosts, but souls and that makes a hell of a difference.

☁︎ Mellow Rays of a Departing Sun [Series] by Emotionally_Detached (Yeah_Toast) { T }

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He makes it. He time travels and makes it through another apocalypse. He makes it, but his siblings don't.

His siblings don't make it, except he's in his own childhood and they're still here, alive and thirteen and he can fix things.

He will fix things

☁︎ most dangerous place in the world, the [Series] by Princess_Sarcastia { T }

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"Grace is the third model in a series created by and for Sir Reginald. She has access to the knowledge obtained by her predecessors in their time assisting Sir Reginald in his many endeavors.

All three of them were primarily designed as protectors. Do no harm, just as Mr. Asimov said!

But Grace is slightly different."

[priority one: protect the children]

☁︎ New Life, A by BirdInTheCave { T }

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Allison had convinced Ray to come back to 2019 with her and her family and after a month of being cooped up in the house with the other Hargreeves plus their own unconventional guests, Ray suggests they spend some time alone. He's still struggling to fully comprehend the new world he's stepped into but he's determined that with Allison at his side he can get used to anything. Allison can't find a reason to say no. She should have said no.

Luckily for her, Five will always be there for his family, now that he's back.

☁︎ Not with me by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) { T }

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They never asked if any of that blood was his. Five is bleeding, and he is also giving up.

AU to 2X07, with hurt Five because after all that boy has been through...

☁︎ Number Five | And The Things that Make Him Tick [Series] by Kraeyola { T }

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It's only been two weeks for him.

AKA: Five succumbs to two weeks worth of badly cared for (physical and emotional) injuries, and ends up extremely feverish.

☁︎ On My Terms by CivilBores { T }

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“I did what you asked,” he tells her. “Now, the briefcase.”

Her eyebrows raise in mock-surprise, red lips curling up her face in a sadistic smile.

“You didn’t think that was all, did you?” she asks.

AU: The Handler gives Five a slightly different deal.

☁︎ Partners, Parents, or None of the Above by DarkFairytale { T }

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Kenny's mom assuming that Diego and Klaus were A) a couple and B) Number Five’s parents was both bemusing and amusing at the time. But that was because it was the only time it had ever happened. Now though? Now they just can't understand why these misunderstandings keep happening.

☁︎ rude awakening by Soulykins { T / WIP }

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When Five wakes up, he just knows someone is in the room with him. Of course, even he didn't except to come face to face with the Handler who he'd thought to be very very dead. And he especially didn't expect her to break into his room and watch him sleep while waiting for him to wake up.

It's very fortunate that Diego and Klaus show up to wake him up and take offense to some random lady in the same room as their very uncomfortable, very thirteen-year-old brother.

☁︎ Screaming in the Face of Communication by papayaromantic { T }

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It's not that he doesn't want to pay attention to Five, just that he seriously can't hear what the boy is saying past the wailing of the torn apart woman in front of him.

☁︎ shaking like I shook before by Anonymous { T }

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Five tries to deal with it alone, until he learns that he doesn’t have to.

☁︎ skirts and sweaters by slightlyworriedhuman { T }

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"I don't want to be a ‘cute little schoolboy’ anymore, alright?” Five snapped. For some reason, the thought of himself as a schoolboy was enough to make his skin prickle. Was it the implication that he was younger than the rest of them, less mature despite his life?

...Yeah, it was definitely that. Absolutely.Five wants a change in wardrobe. His siblings are more than happy to help.

☁︎ small changes by calypso42 { T }

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“I need to ask you something.” He set down the large stack of books he was carrying beside him. Klaus glanced at a few of the titles - Consciousness in the Brain - Memory & the Role of the Hippocampus - Soul vs. Matter: A Comprehensive Look at the Origins of Sentience - and grimaced.

“Are you… having an existential crisis, or something? Because I am possibly the worst person you could go to for that.”

...

When Five goes to Klaus to ask him something about his powers, Klaus doesn’t think much of it. At least, until he realizes that what he thought was simple curiosity was actually deeper than that, leading to a revelation about Five himself.

☁︎ take shelter by aloneintherain { T }

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AU where the apocalypse doesn’t follow the Hargreeves to the 1960s. Without the threat of nuclear annihilation hanging over their heads, the siblings can take the time to be a family again.

Until they find out that the Handler has been blackmailing Five.

☁︎ this is a bad town (for such a pretty face) by luciimariiellii { T }

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Five’s gone. (How the Hargreeves cope, and how they reunite.)

☁︎ to unexplain the unforgivable by darkviverna { T }

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Ability to see the dead and having a temporal assassin for a brother don’t mix well.

☁︎ Too Much Too Little by 1spideyson { T }

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Five says nothing on the ride back, just gently presses the tips of thin fingers to his eyes and temples like his head is a new instrument he’s learning to play. Like he’s searching for the right notes.

Diego tries not to cast too many worried glances the boy’s way, but when Five crawls into Diego’s bed, shaking and grey, he can’t stop himself from speaking up.

A look at Five and Diego's relationship through a h/c lens.

☁︎ Too Old To Be So Young by KaseyBeth { T }

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Five winced loudly, pushing his head off the floor to see bright red smeared across his chest and stomach; crimson soaked into his shorts, running down his leg. His head fell back against the ground dizzyingly, and he groaned as someone touched the wound, biting his bottom lip as he tried to stay conscious. The end of life, of everything, was in three days; they didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for this. A bullet wound, a stupid bullet wound and all that stupid concern and worry, was just going to slow them down. There wasn’t time for mistakes, or hiccups, or rest and recovery. It was the end of the fucking world.

☁︎ traumaversary by WeWalkADifferentPath { T }

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It follows him like an unscratched itch. Under his skin, over his body, around his energy, like a mosquito that won’t leave him the fuck alone.

April 1st. April 1st. April 1st.

(A character study of Five, with some inevitable family feels, in honour of March 24th).

☁︎ Unexpected Future, An by aseies { T / WIP }

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“I’m sure you’re looking forward to finding a way back to your own time as soon as possible,” Nedzu said. “I want you to know that U.A. will do everything in its power to help you achieve that goal. Time travel is a complicated equation to solve, but I’m sure if we put our heads together we’ll come up with something!”

Five raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you’re just going to do that out of the goodness of your heart? I’m not even old enough for high school yet.”

“Well, we’re all heroes for a reason, no? What good are we if we can’t help a single child in need?” Nedzu pointed out with a pleasantly neutral smile as he sipped his tea.

OR: Instead of time traveling into the apocalypse, thirteen-year-old Five Hargreeves teleports in the middle of the USJ fight.

He gets a couple of new dads out of it.

☁︎ walls kept tumbling down, the by Ingu { T }

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It started small.

There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that never will be.

(the one where rewinding time doesn't miraculously resolve mortal gunshot wounds)

☁︎ We All Deserve Second Chances (but don't repeat your mistakes) by justarandomword, wolvesandnovas { T }

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Time-travelling gave Ben a second chance at life. He's not about to let Reginald Hargreeves ruin that for him and Klaus.

(a.k.a. Reginald takes Klaus' dog tags and the aftermath.)

☁︎ we didn't choose this life, we're just (kind of) living it [Series] by noodlerdoodler { T / Partially WIP }

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Five couldn’t move, standing by and watching complacently, as his younger brother grabbed him roughly by the front of his sweater. It was like he was watching a play he wasn't apart of, yet that was definitely his small body being tossed over the balcony. No doubt, Luther thought that he would just jump out of the way. He'd always jumped out of the way, sometimes without even meaning to, but now visions of a world on fire flashed through his head as his body plummeted towards the ground. Seemingly, he was tumbling through the air in slow motion and absentmindedly, Five wondered if this was his life flashing before his eyes. All he saw was the desolate world he’d left behind weeks ago.

When Five hit the ground, it was with a sickening cracking noise.

“Oh my god, Luther, what have you done?”

☁︎ with two arms by karcheri { T }

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What it comes down to, really, is that Five had been too eager for results. Once it became clear to him that there was a connection between his powers and his energy level the obvious course of action, as he saw it, was to test this information. The hypothesis was this: higher energy levels = stronger powers and the easiest way to get more energy is to eat more. Pretty simple stuff. Too simple.

or Five times that Five starves himself and one time that he gets called out on it.

☁︎ you from yesterday by questors (sieges) { T }

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The difference between who his siblings once were and who they are now.

#tua #the umbrella academy #masterlist #fic rec #blueberry's fic recs

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oiralinsanity · 5 years

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The Blood Drop of Subcon

Part 6

The Snatcher sat in his lounger reading one of his law books, pausing every now and then to take a sense of the time. The kid with the hat had already left some time ago to her ship, leaving Subcon Forest and its ruler some peace and quiet.

Well, somewhat. Tonight was permanently different than usual. This time, he had more to deal with than the occasional trespasser. He glanced at the newest member of the forest.

Moonjumper rocked in his hand-crafted hanging chair, still reading that book he had picked out earlier, paying no attention to the world at the moment due to the fact that this was the first time he had been a part of society in centuries. The sudden change in location placed some stress on the moon-faced spirit, and he needed some time to collect himself.

The Snatcher paused once again to take a sense of time, and then proceeded to leave his spot.

"Is there something wrong, my shadow friend?" Moonjumper spoke up, taking notice to the sudden movements around him. "You've been acting strangely for a while now."

"Ah, yes." The Snatcher answered. "It's midnight right now. That's usually when I go out and patrol my forest for trespassers and potential threats."

"And how do you usually deal with trespassers when you find them?" Moonjumper asked, summoning a red string from his finger to act as his bookmark.

"Ooh, the usual." The Snatcher said in a sing-song tone. "I set up a trap and lead them into it. When they set it off, a wall of darkness and vines will surround them and I pop out of the ground, laughing before screaming 'Fool' to scare them. I belittle them for falling into my trap before..."

The Snatcher summoned a piece of paper and a feather pen in front of Moonjumper, causing him to slightly jump in shock. "I tell them that they just got the chance of a lifetime, and that they can leave this forest alive by signing a contract and doing some jobs for me, while I hold their soul as collateral in the off chance they attempt to bail from their contractual obligations." The Snatcher chuckled. "It could be really simple, such as delivering mail to my minions, or-"

"Mail?" Moonjumper interrupted his shadow, confused by his mail comment. "Your minions still get mail?"

"Well, no." The Snatcher explained. "I actually sneak into some mailboxes and steal some of the mail, old habits die hard. It helps make my minions feel special."

"Now, back to what I was saying before you rudely interrupted me." The Snatcher coldly expressed. "It could be as simple as delivering mail to my minions, or as hard as cleaning out the well. Only thing harder than that would be sneaking into Vanessa's Manor to steal something, which only one person has managed to complete that task."

"And that was?" Moonjumper asked. To hear that only one person had managed to survive Vanessa in her own Manor and steal something from her at the same time obviously meant they had to have been very powerful to have completed such a task.

"It was that nuisance of an alien kid, Moonjumper." Snatcher groaned. "The same one who managed to defeat me twice."

Or they were small and crafty enough in sneaking past her like a little thief.

"Then, once the obligations has been fulfilled and the servant is no longer of any use to me..." The Snatcher made a loud popping sound. "Off goes their heads! I can get stuff done around the forest with no effort on my part and a free meal as well!!"

"But you made a contract with them," Moonjumper recalled. "And anytime a spirit, like you or I for example, draws up a contract with someone, the spirit is bound to following said terms and conditions of the deal once it's signed, no matter what."

"Look at the signature line and flip it over..." The Snatcher commanded his old body. He watched as Moonjumper did as he was told, and listened as the moon-faced spirit read aloud the printing on the back.

"I hereby totally agree to do this Snatcher dude's dirty work." Moonjumper spoke. "And also absolve him of all injuries I will most likely sustain from this work. Also, I'll give up my soul. No take-"

The Snatcher watched as Moonjumper began to spiral into a fit of giggles from reading what the last line had stated.

"No takey backsies." Moonjumper barely managed to let out inbetween his giggling fit. "Snatcher, are you serious with this? You managed to craft a contract that can allow a spirit to potentially bypass the legal bindings of a contract, and you decide to write something extremely childish!?"

"Well when you get your own legal contracts, you decide what you want to put on the back of it!!" The Snatcher bickered as he summoned the contract and the feather pen back into his pocket dimension. "Besides, there may have been one or two people whose souls weren't eaten in the end."

"Really?" Moonjumper asked as the two began to leave the Hollowed Tree. "Such as...?"

"Well, one person that instantly comes to mind was this witch who I had signed a contract with about five centuries ago." The Snatcher brought up. "She knew a powerful Dark Spirit when she saw one, and convinced me to become her Patron. She's the one who brews the explosive liquids I use in battle sometimes."

"The same ones used against you?" Moonjumper spoke, bringing up their previous conversation on the space ship.

"Regrettably." The Snatcher shrugged. "She told me it wasn't a good idea to use blue liquids as one of my attacks when it's one of my major weaknesses. So she had every right to laugh at me when I came to her drenched in it."

The duo fell quiet as they patrolled around Subcon Forest, keeping an eye out for any potential trespassers.

~~~

The Snatcher held his hand up, stopping his companion in his tracks.

"Why are we stopping?" Moonjumper whispered to the shadow as he pointed ahead, in which Moonjumper peered towards.

Ahead of the spirits were two balding men in blue suits, both top heavy and scared of their current surroundings.

"Mafia Goons." The Snatcher growled softly, revealing who the strange men were. "They're strong, but extremely dumb and cowardly. And they always seem to find their way here for some odd reason, despite living on an island."

"My usual meal as well." He added. "Prepare to watch and learn the hunt."

The Snatcher waved his fingers at the ground ahead of the goons, summoning a circle of shadow thorns to lie in wait, hoping to be triggered. He then pulled Moonjumper's shoulder down low to the ground so that his bright outfit would not be spotted against the dreary backdrop.

They watched as the two goons stumbled about in the forest, having no clear sense of their surroundings or what dangers lied ahead, able to hear them more clearly as they got closer to the spirits' position.

"Mafia no like dark, spooky forest." One of them spoke to the other. "Mafia have no idea how Mafia even got here."

"Mafia must find shelter." His comrade spoke, failing to notice the trap now just feet away from them. "Mafia have seen red spot on moon. Mafia knows this bad time to be out in open."

One of the Mafia Goons stepped completely into the shadow trap and sprung it, scaring his comrade. A shadowy wall, palpable to the touch, grew around the trapped goon as his frightened comrade ran off screaming.

The Mafia Goon trapped in a world of shadows, looking around for an ever-dwindling hope of an exit out of his predicament, barely noticed that one of the shadows was increasing in size.

"AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!" The loud laughter that echoed throughout the air had already frightened the Goon into submission. "FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT, YOU BLEW IT FOR YOURSELF!!"

Meanwhile, the Mafia Goon, who managed to turn tail and run off, was jumping and ducking through the underbrush of the dark forest. After watching his comrade get trapped by the dark spirit of the forest, the Goon now just wanted to go to his home on Mafia Island, jump straight under his bed covers, and call in sick for the next week.

Suddenly, his ankle got caught on something and he tripped, flying face first into the murky dirt and ruined his blue suit.

The Mafia Goon picked himself off the ground. "What caused Mafia to trip?" He spoke with anger and confusion in his voice. "Things that trip Mafia must pay for its crimes!" He bellowed as he scanned the ground, only to be frightened by the sight of what had tripped him.

A red string, glowing with mysterious dark powers, similar to the horrible tales told to him as a young boy growing up. He had to get out of here quickly, as he did not want to be lifted towards the moon.

Suddenly, red strings shot out from above and wrapped itself around the Mafia's legs, turning his fears into reality. The strings then tighten and lifted him up into the air, smacking his head on the ground in the process.

Dazed from the bump, it took the Goon a moment to regain his senses, although he immediately regretted getting them back the moment he saw what was in front of him.

"Well, well, well," The floating body in red spoke to the Goon, swaying its lower half in the movement towards him. "What do we have here? A trespasser in the woods?"

"Leave Mafia alone!" The Goon shouted at the being, swinging his fists at it in an attempt to maintain a safe distance. "Mafia will show you not to mess with-"

"Oh hoho!" The spirit laughed, interrupting the Goon. "You really think I would be deterred by your empty threats? I've seen many like you before, and let me tell you..."

Red strings began to grow from the spirit's fingertips, confirming the Goon's worst fears for the last time.

"They've all broken down to fear sooner or later." The spirit spoke sadistically before thrusting his red strings towards the now screaming Goon.

***

The Snatcher was finished making a contract with the Goon he had managed to trap, and now had his soul for later consumption. Now all he had to deal with was the second Goon, who had managed to escape with his life.

"Moonjumper!" The Snatcher shouted to his bodied companion. "Where did that other fool go?"

All The Snatcher met to his question was silence, much to his confusion. That's odd. The Snatcher thought. I could have sworn I told him to stay put.

A distant scream rang out in the forest, catching The Snatcher's attention. That sounded like one of the Mafia's! He thought as he flew towards its source.

He kinda wished he hadn't though, not after what he saw when he arrived on the scene.

"MOONJUMPER, WHAT THE FUCK!?" The Snatcher screamed at his bodied counterpart, who had his strings wrapped around and piercing what looked to be a semi-husk of the second Mafia Goon.

Moonjumper looked at The Snatcher with discontent. "I'm feeding." He spoke in a monotone voice. "How else would I have survived for all this time?"

"It also appears that I already made a bit of a name for myself." Moonjumper added in. "They spoke in fear of my distress signal. Must be from all the years I had to fish someone from this planet up for a meal."

"He was mine!" The Snatcher spoke, getting up close to Moonjumper's face. "Any trespassers in my forest, my victims! That is the rule of this territory!"

"And yet you were preoccupied with another." Moonjumper brought up, now reeling in his strings. "Besides, I just finished with my meal."

The Snatcher looked to where the Mafia Goon's husk would have been to find absolutely nothing. No body, no clothing. No trace of there ever being a second Goon. "I make sure to consume every last part of my meal to ensure a full stomach." Moonjumper explained. "Which means you don't have a body to dispose of or a mess to pick up. Like they were never there at all."

The Snatcher looked at Moonjumper in disgust. The Goon was still suppose to be his victim, according to his rules. Moonjumper would have to be punished according to the-

The Snatcher smacked himself upside the head. He forgot to make Moonjumper sign any sort of contract when he had the chance, which meant he couldn't punished the moom-faced spirit for stealing his meal.

"God dammit." The Snatcher mumbled under his breath before turning towards Moonjumper. "When's your next feeding, a year?"

"I'm not sure," Moonjumper answered. "Considering that time is strange in that white hell, I don't know how long my hunger will be satiated for."

"If you are not down with your duties, I will see you back at the tree." Moonjumper spoke as he left The Snatcher by himself, allowing the shadow to ponder over how to make living with a second dark spirit possible.

Beginning/Previous/Here/Soon

#A Hat in Time #ahit snatcher #Snatcher #ahit moonjumper #moonjumper #ahit fanfic #fanfic

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thatgoddamnwizard · 5 years

Text

@lxvingdeadgxrl from here.

Now, Wynter wasn’t usually the sort to believe in coincidences, but even she had to admit that things had gone rather bat-shit since Harry Dresden came into her life. One minute, she was living her life and running her book shop, and the next? Chaos.

Complete and utter chaos.

She’d assumed, foolishly perhaps, that after dealing with that damned book and its followers, that he’d be out of her life and things would get back to normal. That hadn’t been the case, sadly. In helping him, she’d exposed herself to those who might have otherwise never even realized that she existed, would have glossed over her and left her to fall between the cracks in a magically saturated city.

But now? Now, her name was out there. Who she was, what she did, what she had…

Not that she regretted helping him. Sure, it’d been a bit dodgy and things had very nearly gone to shit, but they had been able to sort it out in the end. He’ll, she might even go so far as to say she had come out of all of it with a friend.

It’d only been a matter of time before someone decided to do something with that knowledge and pay her a little visit in an effort to take a few bits and baubles off of her hands.

Not that they’d get them. Wynter was nothing if not stubborn, not to mention fiercely protective of the things she had locked away. If it was in her vault, it was there for a reason, and it was absolutely going to stay there if she had anything to say about it. Which meant that the ones who’d come for said items, would have to resort to more interesting means of persuasion to try to get her to cooperate.

By the time Harry had found her, and it was a miracle that he had and managed to do so whilst she was still breathing, she was quite the mess. She was painted in blood and bruises, and unless she was mistaken, several things were broken. It’d explain the consistent agony she’d been dealing with for the last…god, she didn’t even know how long she’d been there. The days of the week had just run together, and trying to keep them all straight had proven to be impossible for the young woman…

None of that mattered any more, though. Help had come, and she was getting out of there.

It had been a few months since the business with the Ati Me Peta Babka, and all the harrowing ordeals that had gone along with it. Harry had returned to Chicago, more or less settling down to his usual routine, whatever the hell that meant.

And then Mortimer Lindquist, former con man and current active ectomancer, had called Harry, begging him to get “his poltergeist” off his ass. It had taken a minute or two of extreme confusion before Harry had wrung enough detail out of old Mort to ascertain that the poltergeist in question was Wynter Davenport’s deceased Irish friend, Tobias Branagan, also known as Toby.

Harry had grimaced; Toby had never quite forgiven him for that Lucky Charm crack he had made on first meeting him. But one thing they did have in common was their regard for Wynter.

And she, according to Toby, had been missing for a solid week.

He had gone to the nearest Amtrak station and bought a ticket for a New Orleans-bound train as soon as he heard the news. A simple tracking spell using a single strand of dark hair, found in her bedsheets after much searching, yielded no results, which meant that either the hair was too old, or she was being shielded from magical detection somehow.

Lacking any direct leads, he had turned to the magical underworld, and then the spirit world. It was Baron Samedi, one of the loa, the skeletal being in a top hat and coattails who ruled over death and resurrection and had apparently long had his eye fixated on Wynter, who finally traded information useful enough to give him something to go on.

Not that it was good news. No, it couldn’t ever be that easy, could it?

Denarians. In New Orleans. Hell’s freaking bells.

Just the thought of Wynter in the hands of these sadistic bastards was enough to make him want to drop everything and run straight to the tunnels that they were apparently holed up in. But he was alone here, with no backup, and running off with some cockamamie plan wouldn’t help Wynter. He needed to use his head.

The tunnel, and the basement it was attached to, was an abandoned relic of an attempted infrastructure expansion back in the seventies. The old convention center that had been constructed alongside it had been torn down in the nineties, replaced with a glitzy casino. He had needed a distraction, and a way in, and it had simply been a matter of walking into the casino, with all its dazzling electric lights and sounds, and letting his Murphyonic field run rampage. Then he had veiled himself and waited, thanking his lucky stars that all his work with Molly had paid off in strengthening his grasp of the more subtle form of magic.

He had the acolytes pegged immediately, though they were dressed as civilians. The way they signed to each other tipped him off; having your tongues removed as a part of some sort of fucked-up initiation ritual tended to put a damper on vocal communication. He waited while they poked around, then, straining to hold his veil in place as he moved, followed them back to the entrance of their lair.

Of course it was a lair. Villains always have a lair. In this case, it was a huge sub-basement, scattered with the remnants of old, rusting, probably non-functional equipment. And he got lucky. In fact, it was so lucky, he had to wonder if it was a trap, because not a single Denarian was to be seen, and the short work he made of the wards was nothing less than miraculous.

It had been a cakewalk to quietly disable the acolytes, and he spent a few minutes searching for Wynter.

When he finally found her, the world seemed to freeze around him, and the edges of his vision began to go red. He stood there, trembling, the knuckles of his fists going white, his breath seething through his teeth.

He would make them pay for this. He would tear down their world. He would burn it to the ground and dance in its ashes.

He closed his eyes and forced his mind to calm, to center. She didn’t need his rage right now. She needed him to get her the hell out of here.

Moving quickly to her side, he reached up with a shaking hand and, very gently, touched her face. “Stars and stones...” he whispered. “I’m here, Wynter. I’m getting you out of here. You’re going to be okay, I promise. You’ll be okay.”

Flexing his hand on his staff while putting his other arm around her to support her weight, he channeled a small amount of power through it to break the chain that held her arms over her head. The manacles themselves would require a bit more finesse than he had to offer, magically speaking, so they would have to wait until he got her to safety.

#lxvingdeadgxrl #hello this is long #role play #Death Becomes Her #tw: torture

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x---an--othered--another---x · 3 years

Text

this is about the first woman that broke me.

CW // parental abuse, neglect, family trauma, conversion therapy, body dysmorphia, christianity

Dear "Mom".....

This is everything I want to tell you, and too terrified to speak.

I know you will never understand.

You and Dad always used to speak about how my arrival to the world was with purpose. Unlike my older brother, I was the baby that was planned, because he always wanted a little girl. Unfortunately, now, we understand why. But we aren't here to speak about him -- not yet, anyway.

In childhood, I remember my anxious attachment with you. When out of my sight, it was not unusual for me to cry or scream for you. I found life without you to be vile and fearful. I was also terrified that you would never come back to me.

I loved you so deeply. I needed you even more. I always wanted my mom. I felt emotionally empty and confused without her... perhaps, to a point that could be considered "abnormal". I don't know how it started. I just felt it, and too such an overwhelming capacity, even for a small child. Mama's boy in the making.

Sometimes -- many times, actually -- you did leave me quite perplexed, to say the absolute least. When in good spirits, you were perfect; a loving, nurturing, kind, and thoughtful existence, capable of soothing and comforting my deepest woe or worry. It was not unlike you to occasionally spoil me, be it with gifts, snacks, quality time, or simply your positive attention. Your laughter could put a soft smile on my face, and, beside of you, I felt not only loved and cared for, but also, whole. It was a fullness I could never achieve through anything or anyone else. I understood this early in life.

In retrospection, it is phases like this that make me ashamed of my burning resentment for you.

Because, what the rest never knew, is that this was never you, all the time. I firmly believe it is who you wanted to be, and even who you still hope to be -- maybe even believe that you already are. Perhaps, you tried your best.

But, I cannot forget this.

There is a special kind of self-blame that comes with looking into the same eyes that once bore an adoring gaze for you, and, suddenly, watching them fill with what could only be described as unbridled hatred and loathing in your anxious direction. To be sharing a warm embrace for one moment, to finding it impossible to look up at that twisted, angry expression so soon after. Regardless of what you intended, I need you to know that I was legitimately scared of you, in such moments. If looks could kill, I would have been dead by age 10.

Of course, this is much more than just an uncomfortable stare that I am so disturbed by when I reflect upon the past we shared. Whether you will ever accept this or not is irrelevant, because, in the end, this is the truth: You physically assaulted me, and more than once. When you caught me telling my friends about this, you gaslighted me into believing that it was 110% my fault, that I triggered your explosive rage and therefore deserved this. If not this specific approach, you would only convince me that I was grossly exaggerating, or that it never even happened to begin with. If you happened to ever be reading this, I am positive you would do it, again.

Let's get specific, lest you then make the bold claim that I am engaging in an infamous "fake accusation" -- the abuser's favorite go-to line. I first remember an instance when I was 12: I got into the car after school with sharpie markings on my arms, because my friends wanted to playfully draw on me, and I told them they could do so. I had no reason to suspect that this would be some horribly upsetting event in your eyes; you had never even mentioned to me that this kind of thing was a problem, at all.

Your response? You took me to the nearest grocery store parking lot, parked as far away from the doors and other cars as possible, and proceeded to punch me. Granted, it was my thigh, sometimes my arm, but it was with as much force as you could muster in that moment, and you did it repeatedly. I was in legitimate shock, and, for one of the first times in regards to you, I flinched. I cowered. I cried, and I asked you to stop. You did, only to continue to verbally tear into me. By this point, I was too stressed out being in a car with you to even hear what you were saying to me.

You never apologized for this.

While this was not the first time you had taken out your tantrum on me -- physically or emotionally -- I can confidently say that this was the day I knew I could never trust you. From this day forward, my every move and word would be calculated. I would learn to hide everything from you, which, eventually, led to hiding everything from everyone I ever knew.

You laugh when you tell us the story of how I would "vomit on command" when you would spank me as a toddler. I obviously do not remember this, as I was between two and four years old, at the time. I thank whatever deity helped me forget this, because I have since digested how actually fucked up what you always described really is.

"You would get into trouble, and I would spank you, and you started puking to make me stop," you would say with a giggle and a smile. "So I got to where I would just hold you over the porch when I did, so you would puke over the ledge instead of the floor."

Mom, do you understand that what you were punishing with such callous ferocity was my trauma response to your husband grooming and molesting me?

Nevermind the "where were you when it happened" speech -- why were you beating the shit out of me when I showed that behavior (which, by the way, is concerning as shit)? Why were you beating the shit out of me AT ALL?

And why, even now, do you tell the story with such a sadistic giddiness about you?

Moving on. I can harp forever on the chronic, neverending shame, despair, and animalistic fear that came with the fanatic Southern Baptist family dynamic -- or, those jarring, unexpected alternations in your ability to provide me with healthy love and emotional substance. However, the abuse really kicked up a notch once I reached puberty, which, I was unfortunately old enough to internalize, and therefore remember later into my adult life.

I couldn't count how many times you body-shamed me. Called me ugly, made "jokes" about my chest and ass, jumped on me the second my leg hair became visible to you. I remember those acne pills you insisted I start taking, because you were so worried that I would get scars all over my face from the intense breakouts. You loved the idea of me wearing make-up, but if I wore it my way over yours, then I just looked "evil" and "scary". You always hated how much I hated skirts and dresses.

It was as if my own body did not belong to me. Nothing I wanted to do with it was ever good enough for you. I was not allowed the control over my self-expression, my appearance, my whole vessel. You only wanted it to be yours to control and manipulate. Why?

And let's not forget your obsession with my hair. Good fucking god, Mom, your preoccupation with my beauty (of lack thereof) was so not fucking normal. I remember all the times you forced me to have my long hair cut into a dumb bob, because "it's not like you're gonna style it, anyway, what does it matter?" I remember sobbing the first time, and you did not emote in response, whatsoever. Or when I did not take a shower on Christmas Eve night, and you got mad at me because my hair was "too greasy". What was the response to that one? Oh, right. You "accidentally" caught my ear in the flat iron, after sloppily and angrily clamping the hair you were attempting to straighten for me.

On Christmas morning. I was seriously mortified. Inconsolable.

I became desensitized to my looks quite quickly, as I had internalized and accepted the fact that you so kindly graced me with. It became a finalized concept to me that I was irredeemably disgusting to look at and would never be called beautiful by anyone in my life. As true to myself as the grass was green. You made sure I knew this. My friends were always a threat to both of you for a reason. God help you should I tell them. God help you should I experience genuine love from another person.

As if this weren't enough, fast forward to the days I began to realize my queerness. I came out to the first person, and I felt nothing but freedom and euphoria. I became addicted and kept on telling others. I wanted to be known, to be seen, as me.

Living in a small town, it, of course, did not take long for the pastor and his wife to receive notice that their child was openly coming out of the closet to everyone but them.

Cue the fuckin' war drums, here, because I fear that words will simply never do.

When you stole my phone to rummage through my texts, you saw that I had also come out to my aunt -- the only family member I could count on to be supportive, at that time. You responded to her with a short text:

"Never talk to [000] again."

And she never did.

She died, two years later.

She, too, never got to know me. It was out of my control. I will never forgive you for this, and I mean that, genuinely.

In those two years, I covertly dated behind your back. Despite that you had taken my only source of external contact -- just in time for summer break -- and made extreme attempts to isolate me so that only direct family could access me... we stayed together. It was so very strained, but all I wanted was love. In the midst of "voluntary" conversion therapy, I needed it more than anything. I could quite literally have died without it.

My grades naturally dropped through these months of pretending I could be cured of my diseased attraction, which was met with force, as usual. Anything but an A, or a high B on the report card, and I may as well have shot someone in the streets. By now, it did not matter, to me. I was so fucking dead inside, by now. You broke me. At this point, you could have gutted me with a knife, and I would have barely reacted. I felt like nothing, so much so that I became no one, at all.

But hey. At least ya'll felt better.

Only, you didn't. The divorce came mere months following these events. I had never been so happy to see a relationship fail in my life. I should have been sad, but I knew this would be my ticket back into a normal life. You would finally fuck off, and I could just be a human being with no judge or critic looming over me every waking moment of my life. Maybe now, finally, I could live a life that wasn't graded. I didn't have to be godly -- perfect -- anymore.

You never knew this, but I will say, the way I became aware of this news was a lot less exciting. Through another restless night, I snuck to the kitchen for a snack. Your bedroom door was closed. The light remained beneath the doorway. You were fighting. Unfortunately, it was not that uncommon for you two to bicker, so I, for the most part, tuned it all out.

That's when the punching started. Your voices went momentarily silent, as if confused or stolen. Only the muffled, gutteral growls on occasion emitted from behind that closed door, between was sounded like the intentional, rage-induced smacking of skin.

I could only use my imagination.

In my mind, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that our father was beating the shit out of you. Cue dissociation. The only emotion left inside of me was anger, similarly.

I grabbed a knife. I had no idea what I wanted to do about this, but I wanted to be ready, just in case. And I sat outside that door, and listened to this physical exchange intently, clutching my kitchen knife by the handle, ready to do... whatever.

It was after I heard his annoyed pleading of "stop, stop it" and your hissing "who is she" that I finally had an accurate picture in my mind of what was happening just a few feet behind me.

I went to my room. I tried to call my brother, but he was asleep, as this was all going on at around 3AM. I called my best friend, who had to also go shortly into the call. I laid in my bed, alone and afraid to a point of triggered regression. I slept with the knife under my pillow, just in case.

I pretended not to hear it, the next morning. I never told you. I had no idea what to think or feel, and I did not want you to influence those things for me. Long story short, you both were over, and, honestly, I was celebrating that shit. Even as you mourned it for months on end. I was burnt out of sympathy. I only wanted to be free.

Things slowly improved once dad was removed from the household, but, by then, it was far too late. I could sense you attempting to connect with me, to withhold your emotional reactions toward me, to engage with me and approach me with adult kindness. I entertained your efforts for a while under the guise that I may finally experience a loving, motherly relationship. I have since discovered that there are still so many things etched in this old stone that no act of kindness will ever undo, that I cannot move on from, because you still never apologized, or even acknowledged that you were anything below a great mother whatsoever. In all fairness, would it even matter to me if you did, anymore?

This does not even cover all of those miseries passed down from you to me. Between trashing my drawings because they weren't holy enough for you, assuming me stupid when I couldn't pass math with flying colors, always reassuring me that my friends would never fully love me, and ESPECIALLY not like you did, and so much more..... this relationship was doomed from the start.

And I am tired of blaming myself for not wanting to see you, anymore.

Every time I speak with you, I feel gutted and anxious. The persistent sense of powerlessness and insignificance comes back full force, as if no amount of years has separated me from your dysregulated emotions, whatsoever. When I know we have to engage, I am assaulted with cluster migraines, and my mouth is sewn shut. I take on another person around you, even now, because I have no reason not to assume that you are no longer capable of that kind of mistreatment.

Afterall, it still does not exist to you, does it?

Nobody saw it. I was too small to be my own advocate. No family or church members would ever believe me. Even if they did, they would tell you. You even successfully convinced me, for so many years, that I am the one being to hard on YOU for these things.

Mom. You were the god damn adult.

It is not up to a child to control you emotions for you.

The saddest part of all of this, is that... I am still anxiously attached.

Your favorite way to punish me as a kid was the silent treatment. Sometimes, it would go on for days. In those periods of time, I really thought you would never love me or speak to me, again. I blame this for my inability to cope with separation from those I love even still.

As fucked as you may be, that space is still a vacancy. The absence still hurts. The abandonment feels so unbelievably eternal.

I am sure you sense my distance. I am absolutely breadcrumbing you; I admit it. I will respond to your daily texts maybe once or twice a week, because it is all that I can handle, anymore. It is arguable whether or not even that is not setting me back. In all honesty, I want to be rid of you, entirely.

But... that's retaliation, isn't it?

I guess I never learned how to do that.

Or, maybe, I am still so fucking scared of you.

Whatever it may be, I know in my core that I am better off without you. But, how do I communicate this to you? How do I shamelessly become the thing I hated so much? How do I do that to someone? How do I abandon another person knowing just how much it hurts to be on that other side?

And why am I the only one who seems to ask themselves this question, here?

I cannot keep dismissing these pains. They not only haunt me in a way that feels so self-conjured, but they pave the path for me to enable similar behaviors within myself, to fall in love with that same violent smile in another person.

To normalize the abuse.

I simply will not do this.

Dear "Mom".....

While unquestionably the better parent, you are not a good one, yourself. I long for a day where I can comfortably address this with you. I fear that this is only a product of my waking dream.

I need to wake up.

Whether or not I ever say goodbye in the flesh, I have far beyond said it in my heart and mind.

Please. Give a shit.

Beyond surface level.

For once.

Sincerely,

000

P.S. You never wanted a little girl. You only wanted a pet. Accept that.

#letters i never sent #letters i’ll never send #dear you #dear mom #complex ptsd #surviving narcissism #family troubles #i hate you #i love you #i need space #i miss you #let me grow #this was your fault

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the-jade-goblin · 7 years

Text

Get Into My OC

I was tagged by @thereluctantinquisitor to do this lovely meme, and I spent ages wondering which OC I should choose for it (I HAVE TOO MANY AHHH)

Until I settled on my soft elf boy

Assan

NAME: Assan Lavellan

AGE: 21 at the beginning of Inquisition

GENDER: Male

ORIENTATION: Homosexual

PROFESSION: Hunter

BACKGROUND (TW warning; abuse, rape): Assan grew up among the Dalish, born and raised on the plains of Neverra. Assan was born sickly as a child with chronic asthma, and spent much of his early childhood sheltered within aravels and being cared for by his mother - or "coddled" as his father put it. Though he grew out of the severity of his asthma as he got older, in colder climates Assan's asthma still affects him. Being sheltered so much gave little opportunity to make friends, though Assan held on to two lifelong friends, Dylah and Shou, who are very protective over him, being the youngest in their group. Assan's mother is the Keeper of Clan Lavellan, his father the Chief craftsman. Though Assan and he father famously didn't get along, he was very close with his mother. Assan’s father neglected Assan, hating that any son of his was born so weak. Assan could never do anything to appease him, everything he ever did was considered wrong by his father, and he doted on his daughters instead.

Assan has two sisters; one elder by six years, one younger by twelve. His elder sister Raevan vanished on a hunting expedition, and didn't return for several months; only to come back to the clan as the walking dead. Assan was forced to kill Raevan, and eventually, confronted the Tevinter blood mages who had killed and resurrected her, with gruesome results. He was sixteen at the time. As a result, Assan is very closely protecting of his little sister Freeya. Assan still refuses to speak of what exactly he did to those mages, but he’s very ashamed of it. The hatred and anger that burned inside him scared him, and since then he has tried to keep anger at bay; he turns quite vicious when angered and uses meditation practises to lengthen his fuse.

During a Tevinter raid on the clan, at eighteen Assan was kidnapped by slavers while protecting his sister. He was taken to Minrathous where he served as a slave under a Magister Edward Pavus, brother of Halward Pavus and uncle to Dorian. Assan was almost killed when he first came to Minrathous when Magister Edward was experimenting and needed body parts. He instructed an assistant to extract Assan’s eyes, but Assan struggled and ended up killing the assistant, though it left him with a nasty injury on his eye that got infected and nearly killed him with a fever. He survived, and his master had been impressed by his gusto, and wanted to see what exactly could break his spirit. His master was sadistic and cruel, and “favoured” his elven slaves more than others; Assan was routinely sexually assaulted by the magister and often forced to share his bed while chained up, he spent most of his life as a slave literally leashed like a dog to Edward Pavus. Assan was known as the “pretty elf” by the magister, making Assan badly triggered by the word ‘pretty’ afterwards. He was captive in Tevinter for two years, before making his escape when his master travelled too near the Neverran border, and made his way back to his clan. He spoke of his experiences to no one but his two best friends, claiming to everyone else he had no memory of the past two years.

Physical

BODY TYPE: Ectomoprh, kind of. He’s extremely lean and long, he can’t eat much and can’t keep a lot down, but he does have taught muscle that makes him small but strong.

EYES: Emerald green

HAIR: Brown

SKIN: Light tan

HEIGHT: 5'5′’

WEIGHT: 54 kg

SKILLS (S.P.E.C.I.A.L + M)

STRENGTH: 7/10; Assan is not a peak physical condition, never will be again, but his wiry frame does contain a lot of power when applied in the correct way. Being Dalish you kind of have to be strong, all that walking, climbing trees and rock climbing to make a good hunt.

PERCEPTION: 8/10; Assan is quiet and observant, in his life one must make a quick deduction on the person you’re talking to to see whether or not they can be trusted, and so Assan has become very adept at seeking out people’s temperaments and personalities through quick analysis. However he’s a bit of a numbskull, and while he can usually sense people’s emotions he often misinterprets the reasons behind them and automatically think either the worst-case scenario or that he’s done something wrong.

ENDURANCE: 10/10. Assan can endure almost anything. He has always pushed his body further than its limits in order to gain strength, when he was younger he’d purposefully hike in the snow or run in the rain to try and build up a tolerance and train his body to get over its asthma. After he returned from Tevinter endurance training was the only thing that kept his mind off his nightmares, he spent that year pushing himself to the point where now he can barely feel the cold or pain or exhaustion.

CHARISMA: 6/10; Assan is quite humorous and has an easy smile that puts people at ease. He has been conditioned to be quite submissive in nature, so he caters to people’s wants and desires quite easily in conversation. The pain he’s been through as made him extraordinarily kind and he avoids upsetting people.

INTELLIGENCE: 5/10. Street-wise he’s very intelligent. He’s one of the best archers in Thedas, he can repair almost any kind of equipment with limited resources, he can cook fairly well, hunt with the best of them, his tracking and orienting skills are impressive and his knowledge of Dalish religion is extensive. Literary wise, he’s not so good. He can’t read or write, having never needed the skill, he doesn’t know much about history or the Chantry or really human culture in general, and while he’s adept at elvish, other languages are a struggle for him, even the common tongue is sometimes difficult for him.

AGILITY: 9/10; the fact that he’s still alive has hinged on his agility. He’s very agile, he’s fast and small so manoeuvring out of situations isn’t a problem, he’s a fast-thinker and can formulate escape plans fairly well. He’s a great climber, he can balance on any branch even when running and he can climb most surfaces without aid of technology.

LUCK: 3/10; He would not describe himself as lucky. At all. The luckiest things that have perhaps happened to him is the fact he hasn’t been killed or committed suicide, and meeting Dorian. Also for such an agile elf in the woods or battle, he’s quite clumsy in cities or when flustered, so he’s pretty unlucky in that regard and often falls off shit and gets lost in towns and trips over his own feet when talking to Dorian.

MAGIC: 0/10; Assan isn’t a mage, and magic of most kinds terrify him. He’s wary around mages, but doesn’t inherently dislike them. Most forms of magic confuse and scare him, even healing magic makes him uncomfortable. The feeling of magic reminds him of Tevinter and it churns his stomach to be around the electric static in the air when magic is cast.

LIKES

COLORS: Forest colours; greens and browns and dark greys/blues.

SMELLS: Rain, earthy smells, firewood and fresh fruits

FOOD: Ginger roots, nuts of any kind, elfroot

FRUITS: Peaches, mangoes, pears, lychees

DRINKS: Herbal tea, tea made from the crystal grace flowers, hot honey water, and a Dalish concoction made out of several types of root plants to increase vitality.

ALCOHOLIC DRINKS: Assan gets terrible headaches when he drinks alcohol, but he has been known on occasion to drink mead

OTHER

SMOKE: He’s a non-smoker, his asthma doesn’t allow him to keep the habbit without, you know dying.

DRUGS: Assan has had a mild to medium form of diploar disorder since he was sixteen, but he learned to manage the symptoms through meditation taught by his mother. When the Chargers joined the Inquisition Assan sort of became dependant on this pain-numbing elixir Stitches makes since the first time he took it and everything just...stopped. He felt nothing. And it felt wonderful. It took the combined efforts of Dorian, Sera, Cole and Solas to help him stop taking it and find alternatives to help his condition.

DRIVER’S LICENSE?: Even in a modern AU Assan would 1000% live in the woods somewhere, so no. modern technology would not agree with him.

#thereluctantinquisitor #get into my oc #ask meme #assan lavellan #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor lavellan #tw: abuse #tw: sucide mention #tw: violence #tw: rape

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kemnam · 7 years

Text

I Am Become

Summary: It’s been three years. Zeref is gone, all of his books burned. Natsu is alive, and free to marry the girl of his dreams. But fate is cruel, and Natsu cannot escape what he really is, no matter how hard he tries. If he wants to save everybody from himself, he’ll have to go back to the beginning. “Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds.”

Pairings: Typical

chapt. 9 chapt. 11

Chapter 10: Betting It All

It was still hard to breath when Lucy woke up. The black mist was gone, but the effects lingered. Though not as much of a struggle as before, it still felt like she had just run five marathons and couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. Her gasps came in wheezing bursts, chest heaving rapidly. Her limbs were weak and hardly obeyed her commands. Vision was slow to return, blobby shapes fading into focus and color filling in from dark to light. There wasn't much light to discern one thing from the other, so as Lucy lay on the hard stone floor, the unfocused world around her shifted and churned. Tilting her head up slightly, Lucy could barely spy Gray out of the corner of her vision, his back facing her. It didn't seem like he was awake yet. Happy was still curled next to her, the small cat huffing but not conscious. Lucy tried to turn her head to see the others, but they were out of range.

"Are you sure he will come, Master Konza?" A deep voice managed to creep into Lucy's ears. "Just exactly how long are you planning to keep them here?"

"As long as I have to." The girl and her giant companion were both standing a couple yards away from the cluster of passified mages. Their backs were turned to her. "If he wants to see his friends alive, he'll have no choice but to face us."

The man grunted. "We've never taken hostages before. I fear we may be in over our heads. What if we bring the wrath of the entire guild down on us?"

"If the entire Fairy Tail guild is what it takes, then so be it." The girl – Konza – sneered at her companion. "When did you become such a coward, Master Marlow?"

Lucy, starting to regain control of herself, slowly reached a hand down to the holster on her hip. They hadn't taken her keys, which Lucy thought was odd but wasn't about to question it. Fingering over each one of her keys at a painstakingly slow pace so the metal wouldn't clink, Lucy was forced to choose the right one from feel alone, something she had never done before. Rubbing her thumb over the head of each key, the engravings in the enamel painted a picture in her head – one she hoped was right. When she was sure she had found the one she was looking for, Lucy gripped it tightly. Her body might have been weak, but her magic was still going strong. She just had to wait for the right moment to strike.

"This one's awake already."

Lucy yelped as she was dragged across the floor, skin scraping painfully against the rough stone. Lifted up into the air by her feet, the man with the halberd held her aloft as Konza stepped up to her, arms crossed and expression upset.

"But it's only been a few minutes. Does the curse really wear off that quickly?" Konza seemed to mostly be speaking to herself. "I suppose that's what you get when you only have half a spell."

Being upside down put more pressure on Lucy's chest and throat, making it even harder to breath. Her suddenly racing heart wasn't helping matters.

"Put… me down!" If she couldn't circulate air easier and soon, she was going to pass out again.

Marlow looked to Konza, who flicked her wrist at him. With a surprising amount of ease and care, the man placed Lucy back on the floor. Rolling over onto her back, Lucy lay gasping for much needed air. She couldn't tell if her throat was still constricted, or if her lungs were just refusing to work. Though she wasn't coughing up blood or anything, Lucy had a small fear that whatever was in that black mist might have done some damage.

Rolling over after catching what little breath she could, Lucy propped herself up on her hands and knees. One hand instinctively went to her holster once more. Konza's sudden laughter caught her attention. When she looked up, the Manticore girl had an amused look on her face, like Lucy had done something embarrassing.

"Go ahead and try, sweetheart." Her yellow teeth and pale hair stood out in the dark. "Marlow will crush you before you could get one word out, and then he'll destroy all your friends – including the one you have hiding in the trees outside."

Lucy huffed, placing her hand back on the ground in front of her. She was right. Lucy still hadn't mastered the art of summoning spirits through intent alone. Any spirits what were capable of opening the gates themselves could only do so when she was in immediate danger. Unfortunately, this situation did not qualify. The only thing Lucy could do was stall for time, and wait for at least one of her friends to wake up as well. Looking over them, Lucy's heart clenched at the sight of Juvia and Erza. Juvia, who was naturally pale to begin with, looked white as a sheet. Erza wasn't faring much better.

"Don't worry." Marlow replied to her expression. "They'll live."

"For now," Konza hissed, casting a glare to Marlow over her shoulder.

Lucy sat back on her heels, glaring at the two with as much hate as she could muster. "Who are you? What the hell do you want?"

"Ooooh, Fairy's got fight." Konza chuckled. "We are the masters of Ruby Manticore. Yes, both of us are masters. When you have a mage and mercenary guild, you need both a mage and mercenary master. As for what we want? I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

Lucy cocked an eyebrow at the girl, unamused by her playful demeanor. A sudden cough rattled her chest, and she felt something hack up into her throat. Lucy really hoped it wasn't blood as she quickly swallowed it back down. That was when Lucy noticed the large leather tome sticking out of Konza's long black coat. Her eyes widened, heart picking up in pace.

"That." Lucy raised a finger. "Where did you get that?"

Konza's smile fell. "That's none of your business."

"That doesn't belong to you." Lucy wished her voice wasn't so raspy, then she would be able to speak with more conviction. "I know what that is. It shouldn't even exist."

Finally, Konza's smug exterior deteriorated into shock and confusion. Lucy couldn't help but grin, feeling extremely satisfied. Marlow frowned at the two females.

"I was there when he was defeated. So how about you drop the superiority act and tell me where you found Zeref's book?" Lucy snarled.

"Don't you dare speak his name!" Konza shrieked.

The girl howled, one hand lashing out and striking Lucy across the face. Lucy yelped at the harsh sting in her cheek, but managed to stay sitting up right. Straightening her jaw, Lucy looked back up to see Marlow restraining Konza, both of his large hands encompassing her arms. With a grunt, Konza wrenched out of his grasp and spun away from Lucy.

"Punishing you for your arrogance would be a waste of time," the girl huffed. "But I'm beginning to grow tired of waiting. I'm not going to let four months of careful planning go to waste over-"

A sudden cough interrupted the Master. Everyone looked over to see Wendy stagger to prop herself up on her elbows. The young dragon slayer still hadn't regained full awareness, blinking her eyes rapidly as she drew in wheezing breaths. That cruel smile returned to Konza's face, making Lucy shiver.

"Perhaps we should send a message." Konza licked her lips as she switched her gaze back to Lucy. "Isn't that what you do when you take a hostage? Demand for ransom, and send proof of life?"

Marlow stepped forward and grabbed Wendy by her hair, lifting her up much the same as he had done with Lucy. Wendy screamed, kicking her legs weakly. Drawing his halberd, Marlow thrust the sharp tip forward until it just barely floated in front of Wendy's right eye. The girl went absolutely still, tears forming in her eyes. Lucy gritted her teeth, anger rising in her chest. Nobody treated her friends like that! But what could she do? If she tried to summon a spirit, he might hurt Wendy, and the other Fairy Tail mages were still out of it.

"No, no, not an eye, you oaf," Konza sneered, her red rimmed eyes narrowing. "Pick an ear. She doesn't need two of those."

Marlow frowned, but adjusted his weapon to the side of Wendy's head. Wendy whimpered as the sharp edge of the axehead pressed behind the top of her ear. Lucy almost screamed when a small trickle of blood rolled down the side of her jaw to the tip of her chin.

Marlow pulled back suddenly, grunting in confusion as he looked to the floor. In rapid swirls, fractals of ice made their way up his legs and to his waist. When the ice reached his torso, he yelped in alarm, dropping Wendy to the ground. Lucy gasped in relief, following the trail of ice across the floor to where it originated from Gray's splayed fingers. His breathing was about the same as Lucy's, but he righted himself into a crouch with ease. He had been awake and listening the entire time, Lucy realized.

"You guys are really sadistic, you know that?" Gray growled. The ice encasing Marlow stopped just above the man's collarbones, leaving only his head untouched. "If you ever touch any of my friends again, I will kill you."

Konza was shaking with rage, fists balled at her sides and blue eyes wide with anger. Marlow groaned and strained against his icy prison, but Gray's magic was incredibly strong. In a flourish, Konza retrieved the book from her coat and held it out, finger poised along the edge of the cover. With a start, Lucy noticed that the back cover and half the pages were charred black, like it had been lit on fire but not completely burned.

"How dare you threaten me, you welp," Konza growled, glaring at Gray through the thin wisps of her pale hair. "I'll make you apologize with your life. No one can survive a double dose of Hollow!"

Snapping the book open, Konza twisted it so that the pages were facing Gray. At first, it seemed like the paper was blank, edges yellow and torn from the years. Then there was a single spot of black ink that bloomed in the center of the page. Spreading across the paper with black veins in a matter of moments, a stream of a thick, vaporous substance shot from the book. It was not the same kind of mist that they had first encountered – this was targeted, intended for one individual. Lucy cried out, reaching a hand up as the curse flew through the air towards Gray. The man seemed frozen in surprise, simply staring as the dark magic made straight for him.

In a loud crash, the ceiling of the room shattered to pieces as a large object fell through it. When it hit the floor, the impact rocked the room, causing Konza to stumble and drop the book, cutting off the attack just shy of its target. Lucy fell back on her butt trying to get out of the way, snatching up Happy as she did. The little exceed mumbled something and stirred in Lucy's hands. She was too distracted, however, by her shock at seeing the large anchor that had embedded itself into the floor, a thick chain trailing up from it back through the hole in the ceiling and into the sky. But, more importantly, to who was clinging to it.

Wasting no time, Natsu leapt off the anchor towards the nearest person. Konza barely had time to react before Natsu's fist slammed into her cheek. The force of the punch sent her sliding across the floor, where she lay motionless and stunned.

"Konza!" Marlow cried, doubling his efforts to breakout of Gray's ice prison.

Natsu stood straight and blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Looking to the person he had just attacked, the dragon slayer jerked in surprise.

"Shit, I just punched a little girl!" Natsu grimaced.

"It's okay, bonehead," Gray stated as he began standing up. "She's an enemy."

Natsu spun at the sound of Gray's voice, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of his friends. Rushing over to them, he dropped down to his knees beside Lucy. Putting a warm hand on her shoulder, Natsu took in the beaten state of her and the other Fairy Tail mages, who were also starting to come around. Wendy had crawled over to cradle Carla, while Gajeel coughed as he rolled to his stomach. Elfman moaned, slowly rocking his head back and forth. Their raspy breathing filled the quiet of the room. Erza and Juvia seemed to be in even worse condition.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" Natsu looked to Lucy. Her cheek was red from where she had been slapped. "Are you okay?"

"It was a trap," Gray responded. He was kneeling on the floor, Juvia settled in his arms. She was breathing, thankfully, but a large gash on the side of her head was very concerning. "We walked right into it. They've got one of Zeref's books, Natsu."

Natsu's eyebrows knotted together. Searching the room, Natsu's eyes locked onto the closed leather book on the floor. So more than one had survived Zeref's demise? How many more were there? Lost in his thoughts as he was, Natsu didn't notice the deepening look of suspicion on the Ice-Maker's face. This was not the reaction that Gray had expected. He had thought the brother of one of the evillest wizards to ever live hearing that his demons were still around would be a little more…shocked? Before he could say anything about it, Lucy grabbed Natsu's attention.

"How are you here, Natsu?" It was hard to tell whether she was happy or angry.

"Blue Pegasus brought me here on Christina." Natsu jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the anchor. "I knew you were in Juniper Hills, but Hibiki was the one who landed me here. For someone whose calculations are based on probability, he was pretty spot on. They should be joining us shortly."

"You voluntarily chose to ride in that death trap?" Gajeel huffed as he rested on his knees, Lily sitting up in his lap. "You've got some serious guts, Salamander."

Natsu frowned, going pale at the memory. "Actually, I think I lost them somewhere over Fiore as we were going Mach 5." Turning to Lucy, he gave his fiancé a small smile. "Remind me never to do that again."

Everyone looked up as a small tink rang through the air. The slightest, hairline crack had appeared in the ice surrounding Marlow. The large mercenary was gritting his teeth in deep concentration, sweat breaking out on his brow. Natsu shot to his feet, rushing at the man with the intent to knock him out before he could break free. But he wasn't fast enough.

Shattering the ice with a massive swing of his arms, Marlow raised his halberd and brought it down upon Natsu with a roar. Barely dodging the blow, Natsu snuck under the man, where his stomach was completely exposed. The air rushed out of Marlow's lungs as Natsu jammed his fist up under his ribs. But unlike Konza, this Manticore Master knew how to take a hit, and quickly recovered. Swinging his arm, Marlow back-handed Natsu across the face at full force. Natsu was flung across the room like a ragdoll. Landing heavily on the floor, he rolled through the hit and slammed into the wall. Dazed from the impact, Natsu barely had time to look up and see Marlow directly over him, halberd raised for a devastating blow.

Elfman and Wendy cried out as they came at Marlow from the side, kicking and punching as they took him by surprise. Marlow grunted as he slid across the floor, keeping his feet under him. One hand nursed his side, a broken rib making him pause.

"We can't stay and fight," Wendy said to Natsu, voice raspy. "Erza and Juvia are in critical condition. We've already taken out the rest of the guild, so we should retreat while we can."

"As if I would make it that easy."

Konza had regained herself in the skirmish, her cheek swollen and bruised. She was kneeling on the floor with a lopsided grin on her face. On the floor in front of her was another leather bound book opened to its center. Natsu's eyes widened, the etherious pulsing with his heart. Instead of a demon or a mist manifesting from the pages, a single pulse of energy emanated from the book. It passed harmlessly through the Manticores and the Fairies, continuing on through the passageway behind Lucy and through the rest of the dark guild. When it hit Natsu, a sharp pain shot through his chest, causing him to gasp and clutch as his heart.

Lucy and Happy sat in confusion, wondering just what that pulse should have done. They were answered by a far off noise, echoes of shouts and cries coming through the hallway that lead to the main guild hall. Lucy looked over her shoulder, a sense of dread overcoming her. Gray cursed, hugging Juvia closer to him.

"We need to get out of here," Elfman shouted as he ran over and gathered Erza. "Before this entire damn guild comes crashing down on us!"

Sure enough, Lucy could already see the clamoring bodies of the rest of the members of Ruby Manticore come sprinting down the hall. But something was different about them – they weren't the same uncertain people that had greeted Erza, Gajeel, and Gray. They were ferocious, more beastly somehow as they advanced without fear. Everyone shot to their feet, Gray hoisting up Juvia bridal style. Lucy stepped forward and picked up the book that Konza had dropped. The leather was soft to the touch, the handwriting on the cover unpleasantly familiar. Natsu stepped in front of Lucy and Happy, falling into a fighting stance as he waited for the inevitable clash.

"Fear not, dear friends!"

A rope ladder dropped down from the same hole the anchor had, carrying with it Ichiya and the heart throbs of Blue Pegasus.

"We will hold off the foes while you all escape!" Hibiki proclaimed. "Take the wounded up to the ship, we'll be able to treat them! Alzac has already been collected."

Konza stared at the newcomers, hands tightening around the book in her hands. "No, no, no! This is all wrong!"

"Happy, get Lucy out of here now!" Natsu shouted to the exceed as he turned away from the oncoming horde of mages and mercs. The men of blue Pegasus rushed at them with more bravery than Natsu thought they were capable of. Instead, he settled his glare on the Manticore girl across the room.

"No, I'm not going to leave you, not like this!" Lucy stepped up next to him. Curse her raspy voice and watery breaths.

"I'll be fine, Lucy. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Natsu." Lucy wasn't intending to sound mean, but the slight crack in her voice betrayed her worry. Natsu looked to the girl, to his best friend, and grinned.

"When do I ever? I'll be okay. Now go."

Gray handed Juvia over to Gajeel. "Take care of her. I can't run away while the man that did this is still breathing."

Gajeel took the rain woman's limp form and nodded at the Ice-Make mage. Swinging her over his shoulder, Gajeel and Lily climbed up the rope ladder below Elfman and Erza. As more and more Ruby Manticore members swarmed into the small room, the rope ladder pulled away back to the sky. Wendy and Lucy, carried by Carla and Happy, followed it. Lucy cast one last look down to Natsu before she exited.

Stepping up beside his companion, Gray focused on Marlow. The mercenary narrowed his eyes at the two Fairies, stepping in front of Konza protectively. The young girl was seething in frustration, grinding her yellow teeth as she clutched the book to her chest.

"I can't use my magic, Gray," Natsu said without looking at the other man. "But don't think for an instant that I'm asking for your help."

Gray coughed, but there was a small laugh behind it. "So I'm going to be doing all the heavy lifting, as usual. Is that what you're saying?"

Natsu smirked. But he had to admit, it was going to be hard to resist the urge to use his flames to blow these guys to smithereens. He would just have to manage – the risk was too great.

"Marlow, we're leaving," Konza hissed, tucking the book into her coat. The other master looked at her over his shoulder, nodding. Swinging his weapon in a mighty arc, Marlow blasted a hole through the wall behind them. Gray and Natsu dashed forward as Konza retreated out into the forest. Blocking their path, Marlow grunted as he quickly swept his halberd at the two men. Both of them leapt through the air to dodge, fists shooting up simultaneously to nail him under the jaw. Marlow didn't stand a chance against their combo attack. Falling backwards, the mercenary's eyes rolled up, catching the form of Konza dashing through the trees without looking back before he lost consciousness.

Natsu and Gray gave chase, a small crowd of dark guild members that managed to get past Ichiya and his men following them, but they were too slow. As the girl retreated farther and farther into the woods, the two men found it hard to keep up. Konza was incredibly fast, and the idea of catching her became out of the question. Natsu would have already thrown a fireball at her by now if he could, which only frustrated him more. Luckily, Gray was thinking something along the same lines. With a raspy shout, Gray flung a ball of ice magic ahead of him. It soared past Konza and exploded against the trunk of a tree. Rapidly spreading across the landscape, the girl lost her footing and fell forward, sliding on her stomach over the frozen ground.

"Gotcha!" Natsu grinned as he and Gray quickly caught up with her. Gray's labored breathing caused concern in the back of Natsu's mind.

Konza had a wild look her eyes, similar to one an animal might wear when they knew they had been cornered. Spinning around on her elbows, Konza scrambled backwards, away from the advancing mages. Small tears of fear formed in her eyes. In a last ditch attempt to escape, Konza shot her hand up as the two men approached her.

"Glass Make Scythe!"

Neither Natsu nor Gray were prepared. There was a shimmer in the air, then a large, crystal clear cutter with a wicked blade came swinging sideways at them both. It was too late for them to dodge. Natsu squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

The sound of slicing flesh reached Natsu's ears, but he felt nothing. Opening his eyes, his heart nearly stopped at the sight of Gray dropping to his knees on the ground in front of Natsu. He had taken the full brunt of the blow, a large wound cutting under his arm and across his torso just below his pectorals quickly drenched his stomach in blood. Gray's eyes were wide, his husky breaths coming rapidly. The scythe shattered into a million pieces, like it had never been.

"Gray!" Natsu called out as he dropped next to Gray, letting his friend limply lean back against him. Konza, being ignored, flew to her feet and shot off into forest, living to fight another day.

"Shit, Gray, why the hell did you do that?!" Natsu sputtered as he removed his long jacket and pressed it to Gray's stomach. The cut had just barely missed the cross-shaped scar on Gray's hip – the one that matched Natsu's own almost identically on his other hip.

"Gotta make sure Lucy has a groom for her wedding, right?" Gray's voice trembled, no doubt in an incredible amount of pain. But he still managed to smile at Natsu. "She would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

Natsu gaped at Gray, slightly annoyed, but mostly touched by Gray's selfless behavior. Of all the people in Natsu's life, Gray was the only one who had repeatedly thrown himself in harm's way to protect him. What's more was that Natsu had repeatedly done the same for him. If that wasn't friendship - or even another form of love - then he didn't know what was. Natsu tried to smile back at him.

"Can't have a wedding without a best man, either."

Gray looked up at Natsu, unsure if Natsu was saying what he thought he was saying. "Are you finally asking me to be your best man?"

Natsu rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess I am. Whadda ya say?"

Gray smiled, his eyes growing heavy from blood loss. He barely managed to give his answer before he passed out.

"Hell no."

Natsu huffed a single laugh, knowing what Gray's real answer was. His ears pricked suddenly, the sounds of the Ruby Manticore members that had been following them growing louder. Natsu cursed under his breath; there was no time to come up with a plan. One thing he needed to do for certain was stop Gray's bleeding, and seeing as he didn't have healing magic or a first aid kit, that left only one option – he would have to cauterize the wound.

He had no choice, Natsu thought as he shook his head. He would have to use his magic. With a sigh, Natsu removed the jacket from Gray's abdomen. If he was going to risk using it at all, he decided, then he might as well go all out. It only took a few seconds for Natsu to seal the wound shut. Gray was far from being okay, but at least he wouldn't bleed to death. Tying off his jacket around the wound by the sleeves, Natsu quickly dragged Gray's body over to a tree where he would be at least partially hidden. When the dragon slayer stood back up, the first of the enemies had spotted him through the trees.

"Come and get me, you bastards!" Natsu yelled as he broke into a run.

Natsu's heart pounded with anxiety as he led the crowd of angry people away from Gray. His flames were holding for now, so at least this way he could get some distance between him and his friend before… well, before he lost it. All the things that could possibly go wrong rushed through Natsu's head as fire sparked to life on his skin and in his hair. When he felt he had gone far enough, Natsu spun and firmly planted himself to face the oncoming battle. As his fists flared with bright orange fire, Natsu gulped and readied himself. The dark energy behing his heart shuddered, waiting.

Natsu desperately hoped things wouldn't go wrong.

#fairy tail #ftfanfic #i am become #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #nalu #E.N.D.#zeref dragneel #my story

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fighttowinfanfic · 8 years

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Fight to Win - Gorilla Grodd Vs Winston

The apex of intelligence will be decided when these two apes of wrath throw down!

Just a few steps behind us on the evolutionary ladder, the noble gorilla resembles the human in spirit and intelligence, some to an extent that even eclipses us.

Gorilla Grodd, the conqueror from Gorilla City

And Winston, Overwatch’s crack scientist

I’m Tommy the Bomb-Y, and it’s my pleasure to pit fiction’s champions against one another, in a

FIGHT

WIN

Hidden within the lush greens of Africa is Gorilla City, populated with a populace of gorillas with intellects that put most humans to shame.

The technological advancements of Gorilla City created a neigh utopia. But even in paradise, there are those two greedy to leave well enough alone. The would-be conqueror of Gorilla City would wreak havoc more than once, written in infamy as Gorilla Grodd.

Name: Gorilla Grodd Age: Not documented Height: 6’6” (198 cm) Weight: 600 lbs. (272 kg) Race: Gorilla Homeland: Gorilla City, Africa Alias: N/A High Ranking Member of the Legion of Doom Arrogant and cruel, Grodd believes gorillas to be the superior race, and for that matter, that he is the superior gorilla. With that in mind, there’s no end to the superheroes he will maul, shoot, and mind control to achieve world domination.

Grodd is a genius, even relative to the ingenuity of a Gorilla City denizen. He’s been able to mind control entire populations to his very whim using his various devices of his own creation. He often carries a pulse blaster into battle, one that can make impressive dents in a spaceship modified by Lex Luthor, intended to survive the deepest reaches of space.

But what Grodd carries in brains, he equally does in brawn, too. He can casually throw around an eighteen ton police cruiser, can throw scrap metal with enough force to knock a helicopter out of the air, and even knocked out the son of Darkseid, Kalibak. Despite fancying himself an intellectual, Grodd has no qualms getting his hands dirty, relying on underhanded tricks and unconventional weaponry such as rocks to win.

Once, in battle with the Flash, Grodd endured a whopping three hundred punches from the Scarlet Speedster. Studies have found that elite level fighters can throw punches with up to 776 pounds of force. To endure 3,000 punches from the Flash would mean Grodd tanked 2,328,000 pounds of force, and was perfectly capable of punching right back after the fact. There was also the time Grodd got on the bad side of the Joker, who riddled the ape with bullets and sent him falling down a ravine, an encounter Grodd managed to survive.

As impressive as all of his power and bulk is, Grodd’s true greatest weapon comes in the form of his mental powers. Grodd can cause immense pain just by telepathic onslaught. He can hypnotize and mind control foes, create illusions realistic enough to fool the Flash, and even inflict the moods of others. He was able to, from a distance, cause the Justice League to quarrel to an extent that they’d separate, and was even able to calm a rioting, warring group of supervillains to passivism.

Grodd’s intelligence and talent for strategy earns him a place as a prominent foe of the Justice League, often working closely with the likes of Lex Luthor and Sinestro. He’s created supervillain teams such as the Injustice Gang and even assembled massive forces for the likes of the Legion of Doom. There’s no denying his incredible charisma and power as a leader.

Grodd is the apex of strength and wit, and his greatest weakness is that he knows it. He can be massively arrogant, and it’s cost him more than once. His sadistic desire to mentally torture Lex Luthor allowed his foe to turn the tables on him, and someone as clever as the Flash would be able to take advantage of his pride. But with all the strength of an ape and then some, coupled with one of the most brilliant minds in the DC Universe, there isn’t much that can stop Gorilla Grodd from going ape.

When technological marvels of the future turn out to be a little more than we can handle, you can count on the noble heroes of Overwatch to save the day…

...or at least you could once. Controversy and a confusion of the priorities of the public eventually caused Overwatch to fall, leaving many of its former agents without a purpose. The Overwatch members would be closely watched to make sure they never indulge in vigilante justice again. But a true hero never stays still in the face of danger, and when duty called, so did Winston.

Name: Winston Age: 29 Height: 7’3” (220 cm) Weight: Not documented Race: Gorilla Homeland: Horizon Lunar Colony Alias: N/A Scientist of Overwatch Raised by scientists on the Horizon Lunar Colony, Winston was encouraged to shoot for the stars and follow his dreams. With that in mind, it’s no surprise that it was Winston who initiated the risky Overwatch recall when he felt their work wasn’t done. The hulking but kindhearted gorilla proves that heroes come in all shapes and sizes.

Winston’s preferred weapon is his Tesla Cannon, which fires a steady stream of electricity that if uninterrupted, can continuously deal impressive damage; enough to dissipate Reaper in battle. Although the range is short and can be easily disrupted, but it homes in on opponents automatically if within a close enough range.

Winston wears a have set of armor that can endure an impressive storm of bullets. He’s a Tank hero after all, meaning he’s specifically designed to soak up big chunks of damage for those that can’t afford to. Not even dropping a ten ton laser cannon on top of him can put Winston down for good.

Winston’s armor also comes suited with a jetpack, which Winston can use to jump incredibly long distances. He’ll use his descent from these lunges as a crushing physical attack, otherwise, the jet pack provides a useful, evasive tool for getting out of sticky situations quickly.

Winston has also perfected a Barrier Projector, which throws up a shield that will protect Winston from any degree of damage for a limited time. And while nothing can get in to hurt Winston, that doesn’t mean nothing can leave. Winston can carry on fire from behind the wall of energy himself.

Although a careful and gentle soul, it’s said that the devil himself hides when a good man goes to war. Winston’s ultimate ability is Primal Rage; if provoked into anger, Winston will enter a state that makes him many times stronger than before, able to fling around Talon Agents as if they were nothing, and devastate other characters’ life bars with mere melee attacks.

Winston’s Primal Rage is extremely limited, though, and once it’s gone, it takes time or specific circumstances to bring it back. To boot, Winston is a broad, slow target. Again, this is by design of being a Tank, but he can only endure for so long. But Winston (so long as he has his glasses) will keep his eyes on the prize, namely the safety of the people and a bundle of bananas.

So, who will reign as king of the chrome jungle? Let’s not waste a second more!

Location: Winston’s lab

DJ Funky Freeman’s music choice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWP9GLO5ffY&t=59s

Winston left smears of peanut butter from his fingers on his keyboard as he entered long lines of code, improving on the previous disruptor shield model and hoping this would be the one that perfected the formula. “And now...for a test.” Winston, with great anticipation, flicked the switch on his latest attempt at a shield projector. The gadget hummed and rattled, before wailing an earsplitting beep and bursting into flames. Winston’s hopeful smile faded. “Back to the drawing board…” The familiar voice of Winston’s AI, surrounding him in his lab at all times, Athena, echoed. “An intruder has been detected.” Winston’s eyebrows raised. “What?!” The scientist swung off of his tire swing seat and down onto the floor of his lab. He followed an a metallic pounding sound from the opposite side of the entrance door of his headquarters. “Who’s there?!” Winston barked, slamming his fists on the floor. As if on cue, the doors burst open, toppled over by the sheer force of the figure waiting behind them. When the intruder stepped into light, Winston recognized him as another gorilla. “Who are you?” Winston growled again, immediately identifying this gorilla as an enemy. “How rude.” The new ape said. “I only came to present a proposition.” “Proposition?” Winston retorted. “I highly doubt the invasion of my lab was necessary, if your proposition is as minor as you claim it is.” “I am called Gorilla Grodd.” The intruder introduced before motioning to the door he had knocked over. “And despite your...shoddy security system, your research in mechanics impress me.” Winston took a single step back. He did not care for how Grodd was speaking to him, and was prepared to run back to his computer if need be. He’d call for help, Tracer, Mercy, and the others. They’d deal with this suspicious stranger. “Don’t seem so nervous.” Grodd insisted. “I only desire to make you my acolyte.” “Not interested.” Winston snorted back. “So quick to answer.” Grodd casually chuckled. “You don’t want to be at my side for a new era? When gorillas such as you and I rule, surely you’ll want a front row seat when those human neanderthals bow to us!” Winston slammed his fist. “I can’t say I can allow myself to condone anything you just described.” Grodd rolled his eyes, before popping his knuckles against his hands. “Shameful.” Grodd shook his head. “You see, I came here to either gain an ally...or exterminate a vermin. And I suppose the former option has just ceased to be.” Winston adjusted his glasses, before raising a single fist, prepared for his rival. FIGHT! The two apes let out roars of anger as they pounded on the ground, using the leverage of the own arms to throw themselves at one another. Their monstrous fists collided, shaking everything inside the lab and knocking over everything that stood. The hot breath of both apes draped down the combatants’ necks. Winston, his fist caught inside Grodd’s, overpowered his opponent’s arm, thrusting it forward and slamming Grodd’s own fist into his face. Winston did so twice more until blood gushed from Grodd’s face. The gorilla conqueror let out a roar of pain as he was knocked backwards by the prior blow. “I gave you a chance to walk away!” Winston asserted. “Now you’ve frustrated me!” Grodd beat his own chest aggressively, before rushing back at Winston. Grodd this time swung his fist with incredible force. The blow connected with Grodd’s chin, sending him flying upward. “I tried to be nice!” Grodd insisted, while Winston careened through the air. The bespectacled ape collided with his own tire swing, hanging from the ceiling. Grodd began swinging back and forth on the swing with his new found momentum before jumping off and landing on the corridor across. Winston turned around. He saw Grodd, still below, angrily swinging his arms about. Without a moment’s notice, Grodd watched his foe turn around and leap out of sight. “Coward!” Grodd gripped some of the hanging electrical wires that the quaking battle knocked over, climbing up to the corridor above. By the time he made his way onto the hard, steel floor, Winston was out of sight. “Did you really think you’d be any more safe up here?” Grodd grumbled. “Significantly so, yes.” Winston’s voice shot from the dark corner of the lab. Illuminating the scientist was the discharge of his own weapon, the Tesla Cannon. The bolts of lightning danced across the floor and latched onto Grodd, who let out a shout of pain. “I beg your pardon for stepping away...but, you said you were impressed by my machinery, which is why I thought you’d like a closer look at my Tesla Cannon.” Winston carried on, applying several volts of electricity to his foe. Grodd suffered through the voltage, backing away as he groaned in pain. Grodd backed into the railings of the catwalks they stood on, before he tipped over the edge. The sinister ape landed on the cold floor with a heavy thud. Winston jumped down, his Tesla Cannon still in his grip. “There’s plenty more where that came from!” Winston reloaded his cannon, the generator spinning quickly to create the electricity necessitated. Grodd returned to his feet, shaking off the previous assault’s damage. “If you want to compare toys…” Grodd pulled his own blaster from its holster. “I’ll happily oblige.” Winston’s eyes shot to the one handed ray gun. So small...how much of a punch can it possibly pack? Grodd pointed his weapon to Winston, pulling the trigger. From its barrel, a flash of white hot plasma energy shot at Winston, who quickly lunged out of the way. The blast blew out a massive chunk of the plaster walls, kicking up a huge cloud of smoke. “Apparently...quite large.” Winston quickly reached for one of his discarded attempts at a shield projector. Please work… Winston threw down the gadget, which flashed blue in front of Grodd. The shield hummed and shook...before a bright blue forcefield stood between the two apes. “Child’s play.” Grodd commented, firing his ray gun at the shield, to no avail. The plasma energy rose to smoke in the hair, leaving Winston unharmed on the other side. “No firepower can come into my domain with this invention of mine in play,” Winston rested his hand on his Tesla Cannon. “Yours, on the other hand…” Winston fired off his cannon, sending yet another stream of electricity at Grodd, who endured another full shock. Winston heartedly smiled, taking Grodd’s moment of vulnerability to run off, hoping to achieve distance so he can continue firing his Tesla Cannon. This did not go unnoticed by Grodd, who shot his own weapon in Winston’s direction, only creating massive crater in the laboratory floors, while Winston dodged the shot. “You can’t run forever, you stain on evolution!” Grodd scowled, carrying on fire with his blaster. Winston ran, assisted by his free arm, racing out of the way of each blast of energy Grodd allowed to fire off. “Hold STILL.” Grodd snarled. Winston assumed this to be an empty exclamation of anger, before Grodd’s voice echoed in his head. ”Hold STILL.” Without any effort of his own, Winston felt himself paralyzed in place. “Just the way I like my prey.” Grodd pointed his rifle, firing at Winston point blank, sending him flying backwards. Winston crashed into a pile of jagged lab equipment behind him. Grodd approached, blowing the smoke off that rose off his weapon. “Was that…” Winston wheezed. “Telepathy.” Grodd tapped his forehead. “The superior are often bestowed such gifts.” Winston gripped the Tesla Cannon. Despite his wounds and bruises, he swung his heavy weapon, whipping Grodd across the face. Blood sprayed from Grodd’s face once more, as the blow sent him stepping back. Winston lifted the Tesla Cannon, but Grodd was quick to regain his composure. “You insolent WHELP!” Grodd roared, bearing his jagged teeth. Winston felt the familiar sensation of Grodd’s mental powers, only this wave felt about ten times stronger. Winston felt his finger involuntarily forced off the trigger of his weapon. Sweat rolled down his face as he tried to resist Grodd’s telepathic onslaught. Grodd smiled, lifting a single hand. Like a puppet on a cluster of strings, Winston felt his body forced to throw his Tesla Cannon behind him. “Good boy.” Grodd let out a deep, insidious laugh. “Now, to repay you for your...valiant battle efforts.” Grodd lifted his arm, swinging it quickly, causing Winston to, in turn lift his own and, caused by Grodd’s fell swoops, punch himself in the stomach with great force. Winston grunted in great pain, while Grodd laughed, continuing to swing his arm, sending the telepathic signals that forced Winston to slam his own fist into his stomach, and soon after, his face. Grodd’s sustained smile of sinister pleasure exploded into an outright guffaw of sadistic pleasure. “If you won’t work alongside my cause, then I’ll crunch you between my teeth like an insect plucked from my own fur!” Grodd forced Winston’s own arm into his face once more. This blow sent Winton’s glasses flying off of his face and to the floor. “Glasses?” Grodd inspected. “You’re so inferior, you rely on man’s creation for the mere act of sight?” The staggered Grodd struggled to speak. “Don’t...you...dare!” Grodd picked up Winston’s glasses, held them in front of his rival’s face, and with a flex of a single finger, broke them in half. “Now…” Winston’s clenched his eyes shut. “You’ve DONE IT!” When Winston’s eyes reopened, nothing sat within them but a bright, hot rage. Winston’s entire body turned red with sheer rage. Winston pounded his fists on his armored chest as his body surrounded itself with kinetic energy. “What the devil?!” Grodd’s jaw dropped at the sight. The evil ape lifted his rifle again, firing at Winston, but this time the blast bounded off of the energized ape. “GRODD!” Winston roared as he jumped at his enemy, punching his opponent in the face. Grodd experienced a pain more intense than any previously in the fight. Grodd attempted to throw a punch himself, but Winston caught the blow, and returned another punch with his opposite hand. Winston roared in rage as he gripped Grodd’s fur, lifting him high in the air. “PUT...ME...DOWN!” Grodd exclaimed. Winston roared, shaking the entire laboratory before tossing Grodd several feet across it. Grodd, his face buried in one hand, attempted to return to his feet, but Winston was closing in, still bright red with incredible rage. Once he was a few feet away, Winston planted his fists firmly in the floor, swinging his legs outward and directly into the exhausted Grodd. The towering gorilla rolled over several piles of failed experiments and lab supplies, crashing violently into the wall. Winston beat his chest triumphantly, roaring and yelling, spit flying from his lips. Grodd could hardly feel his own legs as he pulled himself out of the mess he was knocked into. Winston had assumed Grodd was down for the count, the mere sight of his adversary still moving was enough to refuel his rage once more. Winston opened his jaws to release yet another scream, one that caused Grodd’s fur to billow in the air produced. “Oh HUSH you!” Grodd yelled back, his eyes turning blood red as, on command, Winston calmly shut his mouth. The same head shaking, telepathic ripples traveled through the air and into Winston, who sighed in pain as his head was picked through by Grodd’s mindwaves. Winston’s fur began to lose it’s red hue, and the kinetic energy surrounding him faded as well. “Now...stay!” Grodd’s telepathic command shot into Winston, who felt his body numb as his assailant desired. “It’s no wonder such a feeble mind would take so much effort to help the humans.” Grodd chuckled, as he turned his back on the fully paralyzed Winston, who could only moan in his place, desperate to move. “...Oh, I nearly forgot.” Grodd turned around, wrapping his hand around the back of Winston’s neck. With a single yank, Winston was pulled up, and then slammed, face first, into the steel lab floor. Grodd picked Winston pack up, crashing him down once more. After a final, third slam into the ground, Grodd pulled Winston back up, readjusting him up straight, and sent his fist into his bruised and broken face. Grodd watched Winston hit the floor, the scientists’ head turned around one hundred and eighty degrees. KO Grodd stood back up straight, wiping the blood off of his fist with a hankey he retrieved from his holster. “Join the rest of your kind,” Grodd spat at his downed foe. “In the waste basket of evolutionary progress.”

((victory circle theme: www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5-DObCnk4o )) Winston was no pushover, and his technology and arsenal gave Grodd a run for his money for sure, but Grodd’s powers more than compensated for any shortcomings he had. Both could survive being pelted by deadly gunfire, but Grodd one ups the feat with his fall that immediately followed his own encounter, and his lack of clear armor at the time, contrasting Winston, speaks more strongly to his endurance. Grodd was also far too strong for Winston to handle. Winston’s best shot was to rely on his Primal Rage, but Grodd was able to make the Justice League bicker to a point of splitting up entirely by sending negative, mood enhancing brain waves. Considering Winston’s strength and primal rage are fueled directly by his anger, there’s no reason Grodd couldn’t have immediately thrown of Winston’s biggest trump card. Grodd even had Winston outwitted. Grodd could build a secret base around a spacial anamoly, while Winston struggled to creator a functioning teleportation device. Winston’s jet pack gave him control over the battlefield, but Grodd regularly spars with the Flash. Even in a close quarters fight, Winston couldn’t overpower Grodd, and had no way of countering his telepathic onslaughts. Somewhat straightforwardly, Grodd’s tenacity and powers cement him as top banana. The winner...is Gorilla Grodd.

Next time on Fight to Win...

Doctor Wily is next to battle! His opponent, however, shall remain a mystery for just a little while longer. You’ll have to keep your eyes on this blog to see who he shall be matching wits with!

#Fight To Win Fanfic #Gorilla Grodd #winston #DC comics #Overwatch

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sleepymarmot · 4 years

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The Untamed liveblog, eps. 39-45

And now, today’s portion.

I thought I understood what was going on, but now I am confused again.

When is this flashback happening, when did Xiao Xinchen finally recognize Xue Yang? Song Lan's body is still fresh on the ground, but in the previous flashback they walked away, and he clearly didn't realize what happened immediately.

Also I don't understand the timeline. Xue Yang killed Chang Ping in revenge for Xiao Xinchen, did I get that right? So why did it happen 16 years ago, before Xue Yang met Xinchen in Yi City or could get his sword?

So what happens to Xinchen's (comatose, presumably?) body? Just lie forever in that coffin, untouched by time?

After the previous episode I assumed Xue Yang arranged WWX's resurrection and was the black-clad figure and the source of demonic infection in episode 1. Is that correct? This episode didn't elaborate.

Confused again. Whose body was in the coffin under magical suppression?

Hell yeah I think the Yuan reveal is about to happen

"Late night talks", huh? At least Xichen didn't play dumb and pretend he doesn't know who this is about, which is what I feared.

"He doesn't have any traces of having practiced this spell on his body." And you would know all about his body, wouldn't you. What a TMI thing to say in front of your little brother! This conversation keeps getting more and more scandalous.

Jokes aside, is the subtext intentional? "Late night talks" can't be simply a product of mistranslation or my dirty mind! It's not even that I particularly wanted this to happen, this relationship in the flashback looked to me like a simple mentor/protege with only a potential for something more. Oh, and it's worrying because only virgins survive in this show. Look at Yanli, she got laid and died only a year later!

Oh, don't tell me the series will end with Xichen nobly sacrificing his life for the Big Bad he believes to be good! (The only worse option: purposefully abandoning his morals for love.) On the other hand, the parallel with LWJ deciding to trust WWX despite what the entire world was telling him...

Oh good, Xichen didn't suddenly become an idiot and actually recognized WWX, I was starting to worry

Jesus, all of that was only one episode?!

WHY ARE YOU TWO TRYING TO HAVE A SECRET DATE RIGHT NEXT ROOM TO THE KIDS YOU'RE SUPERVISING

why do you keep asking how LWJ recognized you? You were dressed in your usual outfit and used your usual techniques? How could anyone who knew you even a bit not recognize you?!

oh I'm loving the Tension(tm) in the scenes with JC and JGY at the entrance

Glad WWX is not the most embarrassing person at this party!

God I don't think I ever realized that Ling knew the real Mo Xuanyu and he treated WWX as the person he already knew and disliked. Should I rewatch all their scenes together?!

Aww, helping his nephew to win a fight!

"My uncle always tells me to not fight, but you are encouraging me to do so." Oh lmao

"When you grow older, you'll find that the number of people you want to beat up will increase. At that time, you'll have no choice but to be on good terms with those people. So while you're still young, you should give those people you hate a good beating." Absolutely crying at this piece of wisdom

I love how the present-day show is a buddy comedy about paranormal investigators (who are in love)

What?? Am I hearing this right, is the affair actual canon?? They can acknowledge that homosexuality exists in this series??? Only if it's "disgusting to the point of vomiting", I guess...

Wait, what? Who's Ah Song? Did I completely misunderstand where the conversation was going?

"Ah Su, I really didn't have a second path to walk back then. Originally, I was going to hide this forever from you, not let you know about this matter. But this plan has been completely destroyed by the person who told you." Well I guess I misunderstood.

Yikes, an entire torture chamber?

Is Guangyao playing dumb or is he truly not familiar with the concept "people don't like it when someone is being a bloodthirsty, sadistic lil bitch"?

Oh, so WWX can't wield his sword normally, but can via the paper man?

"It uses a person’s full spiritual consciousness as the price to heal an extremely injured person." Oh my god is THIS how Jiang Cheng learns the truth lmao

Lovely detail: LWJ pauses playing an unfamiliar song to turn the page of the sheet music

I didn't realize WWX's reputation wounded him so much he doesn't even want to learn the truth anymore

How many times per episode can you play the main song? How are the characters in-universe not sick of it yet?

Oh really, the settlement in Yiling was one of the worst times in your life?

I can't believe they're still delaying the Yuan reveal. If this doesn't happen while he's literally in the same place WWX raised him...

Wow, I had nothing to say the entire episode! I must be getting tired. WWX doing a Poirot speech is always nice to see, I guess. Also shout out to JGY for trying to murder EVERYONE except his boyfriend, that was a pretty bold move.

Can't believe Wen Ning figured it out before WWX...

I don't understand why WWX and LWJ don't discuss their child? Is WWX really still out of the loop? Why is LWJ refusing to explain anything?

Oh shit! Are we finally about to see the Sanrens?

Well, if there's something I REALLY didn't expect from the show, then it's rape and necrophilia on screen. Oh cool, and incest too.

Welp. Am I just tired, or did the show become kinda boring after the revelations about JGY and the emotional scenes Xichen had about him? The plot slowed to a crawl, everyone stands around, discusses JGY's numerous crimes, and refuses to discuss Suzhui's parentage. Or WWX’s lack of spirit ability -- seriously, are you telling me neither his brother nor his soulmate have figured it out yet?!

Also I resent (though am not surprised at all) that sex is only brought up in the context of sex crimes to make a villain look more depraved. Well congratulations, you win, I like him less now!

At least I wasn't completely delusional -- that the letter WAS about sex. I just wasn’t thinking of the right taboo. My bad for assuming anything gay could be allowed to be canon, even as a villainous trait!

I keep waiting for some clever plot twist that isn’t likely to come and shake up the plot. I resent the writers for going with “it was a mistake to help someone visibly abused; he probably made it up for attention anyway; but even if he didn’t, he deserved it”, and a part of me keeps hoping this will be subverted, even if the rational part of my brain knows it’s not going to happen.

#the untamed #blah blah blah

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