#Not saying my own trouble is comparable to the pain of being trapped within an endless cycle of death and revival

[kitkatisacat]

Shiny hunting Giratina in Brilliant Diamond giving me them Champion of Ennui feelings

[nobodyfamousposts]

A Different Purrspective (Original Work)

“Human. There you are.”

Oh. It again. Or is it a her now, given the body it’s in?

To be honest, I hadn’t really cared much at the time about its sex—or if it even had one. I was a little too busy panicking over this thing that just one day up and decided to come after me because...

Actually, I never did get a clear understanding of its motivations. I was a bit too busy trying to protect myself from the FREAKING DEMON!

In my defense, I hadn’t known demons existed until that moment.

In its defense...

Well, it had none.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while now.”

Sigh.

I forced myself away from my cozy nap time to look over at the one disrupting me.

It was...pretty, I suppose. Full cheeks. Long eyelashes. Hair was messy. Its clothing was disheveled. But otherwise it looked good. Something in me felt that a demon shouldn’t be so pretty.

I wasn’t bitter though.

Even if the body it was in used to be mine.

You know those horror movies with the main leads that have to deal with spirits and possession and body snatchers? Yeah. That was me then.

As to be expected in a horror movie, I lost the fight and the...whatever that thing was took my body. And trapped me in its former vessel.

So the orange tabby cat being spoken to on the front porch of a suburban street? Yeah. That’s me now.

The jerk couldn’t even get me in a female cat body.

Though given what I’ve since learned about cats, maybe that was for the best. Ugh.

“Do you have any idea what it took to find you?”

Huh. The weird thing was that it sounded offended. Not sure why it was supposed to be the wounded party here. I was the one whose body was stolen. By IT in the first place.

And then to add insult to injury, it took me to a shelter and left me there. Giving me an evil smirk and laughing all maniacally-like on the way out. Probably figuring I would be euthanized.

It hadn’t expected me to be adopted.

Ms. McGregor. A lovely old woman. She was pretty much the picture of the cat lady. And she took quite good care of me, all things considered. Fresh water. Good cat food. Some treats every so often.

Granted, it was a bit humiliating since I wasn’t supposed to be a cat, but after what had happened, I was willing to take what I could get and live out my days in relative peace and quiet.

...then this asshole had to show up.

“Human, we need to talk.”

Here we go.

“I...acknowledge that some mistakes have been made.”

Oh really?

“And we both have some regrets.”

The one thing I regret about being in a cat’s body right now is that I can’t roll my eyes.

I know it should be possible. I’ve seen the cat videos. But I just...haven’t worked out how to do it myself.

“I...may have been a bit...hasty. In my previous actions.”

You said you’d stalked me for weeks to learn about my life before attacking me and pulling a Freaky Friday. That requires a bit more forethought than you’re giving yourself credit for.

“I was just excited for the chance to experience life as a human.”

Uh huh.

“It was only going to be for a while.”

Ignoring that from what you had gloated at the time, ‘a while’ was going to be however many kitty years I had left. And considering how old this body was when I was forced into it...

“Just...long enough to get the ‘human experience’, you know?”

Guess the ‘experience’ isn’t working out for you, huh?

“But all good things have to end.”

Good for who?

“So I was thinking...” It trailed off, as if expecting me to finish the thought for it.

It waited, watching me long enough for this to get uncomfortable. Then it sighed.

“Perhaps we should switch back?” It asked, trying not to appear too eager.

It was failing. Horribly. But it was trying.

“You can go back to your life and family.” It continued, as if it was trying to sweeten the offer.

It was an offer though. And one I hadn’t expected to get this soon.

Or ever.

But what I expected even less was my own disinterest.

I mean...sure, the entire thing was terrifying when it was happening and I had no idea what was going on. And humiliating to no longer be human afterwards. But it’s been...what. Two months? Three? And so far, things have been pretty good for me.

Yeah, I’ll pass.

“Come on now!” It insisted “Don’t you want to be human again?”

...was it serious?

“You would get to go back to your fulfilling job.”

You mean the 60+ hour work week with no breaks, no paid vacation, and shitty benefits?

“See your family again. Spend time with your siblings and their kids.”

My self-important and egotistical siblings. With their horrible, horrible kids. And their untrained dog.

“And you can return to having a normal life in a healthy human body.”

My most recent labs read some issues. I had gingivitis and a cavity at my last dental exam. And my appointment for operations on those matters both happened to be after my body got snatched.

How did that go, by the way?

It tensed, fists clenching.

“I think I was a bit...unfair. And I would like to rectify that and switch us back.” It bit out. I think its eyes even flashed.

It was the period pain, wasn’t it?

“How do you LIVE with that?!” It shouted, furious and possibly somewhat embarrassed given the red tinge to its face.

Huh. I didn’t know I could turn that color.

“Look, this works out for both of us.” It insisted, gesturing at me. “You can go back to your life and I can go back to not dealing with your life!”

Wow, you make my life sound so grand when you put it that way...

“Really?” It asked, hopefully.

No.

It groaned, running a hand through its hair.

Wow. It doesn’t look washed. Have you not been taking care of my body? That was one of the few things you said I wouldn’t have to worry about after you left me to rot.

“It’s harder than it looked, okay?”

How do you not know how to take care of a human body?

“Hey, even you humans need years of training on how to properly manage yourselves!” It hissed.

Well, sucks to be you, I guess. As a cat, I can just lick myself clean and not have to worry about appearances.

Its nose turned up in disgust.

“How are you okay with this?!”

Well, it sucked when it happened. But you know, we humans are pretty adaptable. Horror movies end after the credits, but odds are that we would just sort of have to get used to it sooner or later.

Did you think I’d just be screaming in horror within my kitty mind forever?

It paused.

“Maybe?”

Wow. That totally makes me want to help you.

“What? No!” It insisted. “I’m trying to help YOU here!”

And how is this helping me?

It...actually seemed to fumble for a moment.

“Aren’t you sick of eating raw meat and cat food? Isn’t it disgusting?”

Eh, it was hard to get used to at first, I’ll admit. But the nice thing about being a cat is that taste isn’t one of the senses high up on the scale of priority. I’ve only got like...a few hundred taste buds now compared to the thousands I had before, so it doesn’t really bother me. I do miss tasting sweet things though. But at least it means I don’t have to worry so much about how bad things taste.

“Aren’t you tired of having to hunt for food? I’ve seen you going after rats and bugs. Clearly you must be starving.”

Nope, the lady here feeds me pretty well. I just take out the mice to help her out.

It wilted. “But...the bugs?”

It’s actually kind of fun to hunt bugs. And they have this nice little crunch to them—

“Okay, okay, okay!” It interrupted quickly.

Was it was because it was grossed out by the conversation or because it secretly liked those things as well?

“Don’t. Just...don’t remind me.”

Huh, how strange for a demon. Honestly, it had been a cat, at least for a little while. It should know these things.

For that matter, it should also know more about humans in general and my life in particular if it had been following me for months.

“Look, let’s just switch back.” It implored. “I’ll stay in kitty form. You can go home and do...whatever with your life.”

I could.

“You can.”

But this is actually the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation in...like...years.

“You can’t be serious.”

YEARS.

“Listen to me you little shit!” It hissed out, its features turning significantly more sinister and...wow. Stop. I don’t think my face is supposed to look like that! “You are going to switch back with me or so help me—”

You’re supposed to be the powerful demon here. You stole my body before. If you really hate it so much, why don’t you just switch us again?

A pause followed. An unsettling long pause.

“I...can’t.” It muttered, unhappily.

Wait.

What?

“I took it by force. Which we can do.” It shrugged. “But no one’s ever just...switched back before! Not without permission.”

Sooo...you need my permission?

“Yes.”

Huh.

Maybe you should have thought of that BEFORE you stole my body, you creep.

“Oh come on!” It shouted. “Please! I can’t take this anymore. Your job is impossible, your family is insufferable, and this body keeps doing...things I don’t like to think about.”

Yeah, it does that.

“What would it take to switch back?” It demanded. “I can’t take it anymore!”

I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic to your needs right now.

“Do you want me to apologize? I’ll apologize!”

Would it be sincere? Or would it just be a manipulation tactic?

It hesitated.

Right. Enough said.

“It could be both!” It insisted.

And we’re done. Excuse me, I think I’ll be going back to my nap now.

“You know,” It said with a dark tone. “I could just kill your family. Then you’d go to prison. How would you like that?”

Hah. Good luck. Before I met you, I was still convinced they were hellspawn themselves.

Not to say that meeting you has actually changed that belief, to be honest. If even you can’t stand them, what does that say?

“I could kill them all and make it look like an accident. So you wouldn’t get in trouble when you returned.” It suggested instead and...wow...was it trying to bribe me now?

Pass.

Knowing them, they’d be worse than any demon. And would take you out before you could do them in.

Nice try, though.

It glared fiercely at me but said nothing further. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was pouting.

Human expressions are one thing I miss. I’d be doing a long sigh right now.

Look.

You’ve lived my life for all of two months and already you can’t hack it. Imagine dealing with that...all of that. For year after year on end. Going to work at a high stress and low reward job. Dealing with people who look down on you regardless of how hard you work. Dealing with family members that either ignore you or act like they’re superior to you. Dealing with their rotten little children that they are incapable of disciplining even as they wreck your belongings for the sheer entertainment of it. Dealing with a body that’s slowly giving out on you regardless of what you do because you have to overwork it just to earn enough to keep it functioning.

And knowing that despite all the hardship, you still have another 30 plus years of that shit to go before you’ll get to enjoy...maybe 10 years of retirement before your body gives out?

Meanwhile, I have maybe another 10 years of kitty relaxation in this life.

Why would I want to give this up?

“Because you aren’t meant to be a cat!” It insisted.

I’m not. But somehow I am.

And whose fault is that?

It was...oh wow. I wasn’t imagining it! It was pouting.

Huh. Apparently it’s a demon that isn’t used to not getting its way.

And arguably, it was a good deal. Most horror movie leads would jump on a deal like this to “right the wrongs” done to them and return to their lives. Anyone would.

But would you look at the time? Gee, buddy. I’d love to help you out, but that sounds like an awful lot of work and there’s a nice patch of sunbeam that’s calling my name.

“Don’t you turn your back on me—”

And you may want to check yourself. People are starting to give you odd looks and you really don’t need folks to recognize you and question why you’re talking to yourself in public.

It glanced around nervously before lowering its voice. “You could try to help, you know!”

Well, I could. But y’know...cat.

It sputtered.

Clearly, it wasn't possible for cats to laugh. Otherwise I would be laughing myself to tears right now.

“I could disrupt this new little life of yours!” It hissed, turning to threats where pleas and bribes had failed. “The only reason you have it so good is because that old hag took pity on you.”

Let’s not forget that if you had your way, I’d have been euthanized by now and this would all be a moot point. So maybe you should be a little more grateful to that ”old hag”.

“So you do care about her.” It smirked. “But she’s old. Frail.”

It hummed, nonchalantly. Then it smirked, knowingly.

“She looks about ready to keel over at any day.”

And what good would it do you if she did? You need me to be willing, apparently, remember? I was already spiteful as hell when I was human. And everyone knows that cats are nothing but spite.

“We can see if you’d still have that attitude after a few months on the streets. After all, there’s always the chance she could have an...accident.”

Not a good idea. You have not seen that woman lug her purse around. I’m pretty sure that lady was a former heavyweight champion. She can carry four bags of cat food at once, she could probably bench press you while she’s at it.

And there’s no way I’d go back to a body after that.

It opened its mouth—my mouth?—into an expression of rage, and looked about ready to scream.

A loud noise cut it off before it could make a sound.

“There you are!”

Glancing over, it was the front door of the house. The screen door had been opened and on the other side stood a short old woman. Her hair was tied back into a bun. Her nose stuck out at a sharp angle, but it framed her wide if somewhat wrinkled face. She wore no glasses, but she was squinting so much that she looked like she could barely see.

That was her. My new “landlord”, so to speak.

“Jennifurr! Dinner’s ready!” 

It took a moment for the thing in my former body to realize she was talking to me. Cat me.

...oh. Did I mention that the Cat Lady had an awesome sense of humor?

Welp, that’s it then. Too bad, so sad. Looks like we’ll have to table this for another day. Maybe next year?

It gave a grunt of annoyance, but backed away. If nothing else, it wasn’t going to cause a scene here. More out of self preservation than anything. But it continued to glare at me, clearly indicating that this was not over.

I ignored it, going straight for the door as McGregor opened it to let me inside.

“There you are, dear! Everything all right?”

Eh, fine.

She placed a bowl with some cut up meat on the kitchen floor for me.

Oo. Chicken!

“Not too many pests, I hope.”

Only the one.

She continued making conversation as she milled about the kitchen. She does that often. Sometimes it even feels like she hears me.

I wasn’t lying. Not entirely, at least.

I miss being human. Parts of it, at least. The internet was great. I miss having hands that can type. And opposable thumbs. I miss my full taste buds. Some other things I can’t be bothered to think of right now.

But getting away from life does kind of help to put things in perspective.

I’ll go back though...eventually. Maybe.

What was that one meme? It seemed most fitting here.

Nope. I don’t wanna adult today.

Today, I will cat.

[mrvltwimagines]

Just Another Day

PLATONIC-ISH COWORKER!SEBASTIAN STAN x READER x (TINY BIT OF) PLATONIC COWORKER!MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER 

SUMMARY: You had gotten too comfortable at your old job where no one noticed anything about you and didn’t think about how hard it would be to hide your ongoing secrets from your new coworkers.

WARNINGS: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Anxiety

WORD COUNT: 4.4k (whew another long one, oopsies!)

You knew with starting a new job that some of your secrets would shine through eventually. You were beyond grateful to have gotten this job, even if it was just retail. You had been struggling financially which had taken a toll on your mental health, so working again and knowing you have consistent paychecks coming your way was relieving.

Compared to your previous job, it only took the first day working at this new company to realize how bad you previously had it and how lucky you were to have landed this one. Your coworkers were all so nice, and while the customers you dealt with continuously acted like they were above you, that was just a part of working in retail.

Your anxiety was heightened during the first few days. You didn’t know anyone and you had to go through the constant motions of introducing yourself to anyone and everyone even though the very last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself. The assistant store manager, Sebastian, was always checking in on you, even going as far as to ask how you were feeling mentally being thrown into such a large environment as the new person. You always responded that you were doing fine, but your anxiety was always creeping around the corner. You struggled with controlling your emotions at your previous job, always feeling so unprofessional and naive to cry or get upset when things got too much so you felt as if you needed to make a pact with yourself to not show as much emotion at this new job. 

You had noticed the pattern of male dominance throughout your new job. A lot of the women worked around the front end, leaving you to be one of the few working the floor with mainly men. You tried not to let your nerves show through each time you had to converse with some of the guys. You knew everyone here was going to be professional, but your guard was still up that one of them could act out.

The feeling of your phone continuously vibrating broke you out of your thoughts as you worked on the task at hand. You knew exactly who it was and fought the urge to roll your eyes, but even when you weren’t with him you didn’t do anything that would get you in trouble if you were in his eyesight. Taking a peek around you, you slyly pulled your phone out of your pocket, reading the texts from your boyfriend, most of them not being important but you knew the rule on texting back. Typing out a quick response with little commentary and answers to each of the texts, you slipped your phone back into your work vest.

“You doing alright over here?” you couldn’t help the small jump your body did out of habit while turning around with your hand over your chest. A small chuckle left Sebastian's mouth as he apologized for sneaking up on you. You could feel the heat rising to your face and neck, embarrassed at the thought of what he just witnessed.

“It’s fine, i’m doing fine,” you replied, nodding your head a bit towards what you were working on as if to prove that you were actually doing something productive, “I should easily be able to finish this all before i’m off today.”

“Oh good, thank you,” he smiled, “Just let me or Matthew know if you’re ever getting too overwhelmed and we’ll back off on giving you so many projects.”

“Oh trust me, compared to what i did at my last job, i am completely happy and not overwhelmed here, but thank you anyways.”

Your conversation lasted a few minutes longer before he had to run off to help out in another part of the store leaving you to get back to your task. 

The day flew by and before you knew it, it was the end of your last shift of your first week. You were overall ecstatic about working again and having such an easy going manager. The entire week went by so fast and luckily hasn’t added any more stress to your already stressful life. 

Waving goodbye to a few of your coworkers, you peeked into Sebastian’s office to see him and Matthew having a conversation. You were about to duck back out, but made eye contact with Matthew and he was quick to halt their conversation, waving you in.

“You heading out for the day?” he asked, a small smile gracing his face. 

Sebastian was the one who initially interviewed you for your job. He brought a comforting presence and was a huge reason why you felt it was a no brainer for you to take the job offer. Everyone else you talked to during the hiring process had nothing but kind things to say about him, and within the past week you understood and agreed with all the compliments that were laid upon him. Matthew was a manager you had met on your first day. You didn’t know what to expect out of him, other than the fact that Sebastian had referred to him as the peace making string bean. You initially laughed at that but upon meeting him, it was an incredibly fitting description. You felt no awkwardness or uncomfortableness around him, and thoroughly enjoyed the times you’ve gotten to work with him over the past week.

“Yeah, i’m sorry, i don’t mean to interrupt, i just wanted to wish you both a good weekend,” you retorted. You hadn’t felt much fear while working around all the men you do, but the possibility that either of them could be annoyed or upset that you just interrupted their conversation stuck in your head.

“No need to apologize, thank you, y/n,” Sebastian cut in, “You go have a great weekend, and we’ll see you bright and early on Monday, yeah?” You nodded, sending one last small wave before heading out of the office and the entire building altogether.  

Your smile faded and your nerves began to pick up on your drive home. You knew better than to talk about your new coworkers with your boyfriend, in fear that he’ll get upset that you spend so much time working with mainly other men. You used to find his jealousy endearing, thinking he was just worried to lose you, but it quickly grew tiring and left you feeling guilty and scared.

Your boyfriend had the tendency to not be able to control his anger. You’d been together for close to four years now, and about halfway through that something snapped in him and changed him for the worst. Any little thing could set him off, and while throwing verbal insults at you was his main technique, he has put his hands on you more than you’d like to admit. You felt so trapped and stupid for still being in love with him. You wanted to blame this all on a rough patch and that he was just stressed out, but it’s been a few years now and you’re worried that this is how it’ll always be. You didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and if you two broke up you didn’t know where you’d even go considering there’s no way you could afford to live on your own.

As you approached and parked near your apartment building, you quickly regain your composure and gave yourself a quick pep talk. You’ve got this, just put a smile on your face and hope he’s in a good mood. This weekend doesn’t have to be horrible.

* * *

By time Monday morning came around, more than half of your body was bruised and your confidence was at an all time low. The words your boyfriend yelled at you swam around in your brain, and the pain of the punches, slaps, and kicks he planted on you were felt over your entire body. He’d never been so ruthless when it came to his beatings before and you knew it was because you didn’t shut up about work and he had figured out about how much you work with other men. You just wanted to share how good things were going, but you should’ve known how fast doing that had the potential to upset him.

He had usually been careful to avoid your face, but this time there was a prominent black eye forming and no amount of makeup would cover it so you made sure you had an excuse to give to anyone who asks what happened. You dreaded the conversations that were bound to happen as you walked into work, your anxiety at an all time high at the thought of facing both Sebastian and Matthew. 

The day started off as good as it was going to get. Every time you bent over or extended your body too far you were reminded of every hit your body took. You felt your anger rising every time you winced or had to deeply exhale. Every time something like this happened you always questioned why you put yourself through it but always come back to the two answers: as horrible as it was, you still loved him. You had such good times together and sometimes he just got angry, and most of the time you could find the blame in yourself for making him angry. Also, you were stuck. Even if you didn’t love him anymore and were actively looking for an escape, you wouldn’t be able to afford anything on your own and you would have nowhere to go.

“Y/n?” You winced at Matthew’s voice behind you. You didn’t want to turn around, but you also knew that you would come off as rude and the last thing you wanted to do was make someone else mad.

“Goodmorning Matthew,” you offered back, slowly turning around to face him. You cringed at the look on his face and quickly avoided eye contact.

“I had a couple people inform me that you had a black eye so I wanted to check for myself and lo and behold you do. Are you okay?” He asks. You wanted to laugh at the question, but instinctually nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, “I was cleaning this weekend and slipped while mopping the kitchen. Fell right onto the corner of my counter,” you chuckled, hoping your lie sounded realistic. He eyed you for a second longer, not seeming to buy your excuse. You could feel your heart rate spike and habitually began playing with your nails. He looked down towards your movements before looking back up to make eye contact with you which you held for a few seconds before choosing to look anywhere but his eyes. You cursed at yourself for being so obvious, but you didn’t know how else to act in this situation.

“It looks like it hurts, do you need anything?” He continued. You shook your head no, already knowing you’ve taken enough ibuprofen for the day and even that wasn’t helping too much so you just have to work through the pain.

“I’m fine, promise.”

You could tell by his expression that he was uncomfortable with the conversation and that it clearly wasn’t going the way he wanted it too, but he seemed to let it go for now with a simple “let me know if you need anything, mine and sebastian’s doors are always open” to which you thanked him and turned back around to your task. You could feel his eyes linger on you for a second longer before he walked away. You let out a deep breath, leaning your forehead against the shelf in front of you. You knew you were a horrible liar. You had even practiced for conversations exactly like that and still you sucked at lying. It’s like you couldn’t do anything right.

With one last deep sigh you attempted to get back to work, but your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation over in your head. You thought of all the ways it could’ve gone, and all the other things you could’ve said to seem less suspicious. You cursed at yourself for fucking up yet another thing. 

You avoided eye contact with any other coworkers, and customers after that. Keeping your head down was your best option to not bring any more attention to yourself. Your entire body ached, including the splitting headache that was starting to form from either thinking too hard, or the throbbing that was going on around your eye. Potentially both things at the same time.

You jumped a bit at the sound of your work walkie talkie going off in your pocket.

“Hey y/n, can you come to my office when you get a chance?” The familiar sound of Sebastian's voice rang through the area you stood in. Your heart dropped, the idea of being in a small room with a man not seeming like the best idea, but he was also your boss and you couldn’t just say no.

“Yeah, i’ll be there in just a minute,” you responded, quickly starting to clean up the little mess you had created in your work area before taking your sweet time walking to Sebastian’s office. You know it was ridiculous to even think that he was going to hurt you, but after the weekend you had it was going to take a bit of time to not be uncomfortable around anyone and everyone. 

The sound of both Matthew and Sebastian’s voice rang in your ears as you approached the office. You heard the last bit of what Matthew was saying and instantly had the urge to just run out of the building altogether. 

“I’m telling you Seb, this isn’t a slip-in-the-kitchen black eye, this is a black eye you get when someone punches you. I’m surprised her nose isn’t broken or something.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. You tried to build yourself up, thinking of every excuse you could and practicing every reassuring sentence you could think of that might get them off your back. It wasn’t their business after all, right?

With one last deep breath, you knocked on the cracked open door and slowly stepped through it. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Sebastian and the stern face he held. His eyes scanned your face before unintentionally running down your body as if to look for any other exposed bruises. His face loosened up upon returning back to your frightened gaze.

“Everything okay? Am i in trouble or something?” you asked, looking in between the two men. Your body felt like it was on fire from both the bruises covering it, and the intense gaze you were receiving from both of them. Their gazes softened a bit more at your question as they both shook their heads, shutting down the idea that i was in trouble.

“No, no y/n, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted to check in on you, with this black eye and all. I know Matthew’s already checked in on you, but i just wanted to see how you are doing,” Sebastian spoke up. You looked between the both of them and felt a bit of anger rise at the uncomfortable situation you’ve been put into. You told Matthew you were fine, why couldn’t he have just kept to himself?

“Like i told Matthew earlier, i’m fine, just fell is all,” you retorted, sending a small glance at Matthew hoping he would get the hint that you weren’t too happy about this conversation. 

“Looks like more than a fall,” Sebastian continued to say while standing up to lean against his desk. You unintentionally moved back a bit, not taking much notice of your own actions over your heartbeat being the only thing you could currently hear. Sebastian and Matthew shared a look before Sebastian took a step away from his desk, approaching you a bit more. You flinched and took another step back, accidentally backing right into the doorknob hitting a big bruise that covered your lower back. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as you brought a hand back to cover the spot you had just bumped trying to release some of the pain by rubbing it. 

Sebastian was quick to retreat as he watched you fully flinch away from him. He was more than four feet away from you even when he did take a few steps towards you, but your reaction was enough for him to confirm some of his suspicions. 

“Hey Matthew, do you think we could have the room?” Sebastian asked, getting a curt nod from Matthew as he looked back towards you and offered you a sympathetic smile. Honestly you didn’t want that. You didn’t want anyone's sympathetic or pitiful looks. You deserved everything that happened to you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and instantly felt shameful. You made a pact with yourself to not show weakness and it’s only taken you a week or so and your emotions are already coming through.

You continuously blinked, willing your tears to go away as you scooted away from the door allowing Matthew to leave the room. Sebastian gestured at a chair near him and you hesitated to take it. You knew it would hurt to sit down and that there was no hiding the grimaces, but the look in Sebastian's eyes let you know that he’s already caught on to a lot of what's going on. 

You approached the chair and slowly sat down, trying to hold back how much pain you felt from putting pressure on the bruise on your tailbone and the one on the back of your left thigh.

“Are you safe?” was the first question he asked you, and before you could even think you habitually nodded. You knew it was a lie, and deep down you knew things were just going to get worse. You’d never seen your boyfriend as mad as he was over the weekend. It was like a constant where he’d just see you and see red. You walked on eggshells all weekend, and even before you left for work today you felt as if you weren’t allowed to take up any space. You were the furthest thing from safe. You looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian and instantly regretted it. The tears that you had managed to push back made their way to your eyes quicker than ever and fell before you had the chance to hide them.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered out, covering your face. You were humiliated that all of this was going on. You had gotten away with covering bruises and hiding emotions from all your coworkers at your previous job. The attention you were receiving now made you think maybe everyone you previously worked with were just assholes, but also that you would rather be ignored than be seen how you are right now. 

“y/n... why are you apologizing?” he breathed out, scooting his chair a bit closer to yours.

“I made a pact not to cry and here i am a week in and already crying in front of you.” 

“Well you’re clearly crying about something important so why don’t you tell me about that,” you shook your head, looking up at him for the first time since you started crying. You could feel a sob escaping your mouth before you could push it back down while shaking your head back and forth. 

“I can’t tell you,” you sobbed out.

“Listen, I know your outside life isn’t any of my business, but I also care about every employee in this building and seeing you come in with a black eye and clearly other bruises on your body, I’m just worried.”

You sat there for a second contemplating all of your choices. You could continue to lie and push everything back stating that he was indeed right, your outside life was none of his business, or you could tell him the truth and let him in on one of your deepest secrets. You could feel your head pounding, and you could hear your heartbeat grow erratic. Your tears had momentarily stopped but now your entire body was in panic mode. You couldn’t continue to make eye contact with him and instead chose to look down at your hands in your lap. 

“I’ll lose everything. It’s either this or nothing, Sebastian. I’m fine, i’ve been fine,” you offered up. You weren’t lying, but even what you said felt wrong coming out. how did you end up like this? How stupid are you to let yourself get this deep in the abuse and the relationship altogether?

“Hey, please look at me,” he scooted even closer, his knees nearly touching your own. His voice was soft, almost pleading so you gave in and lifted your head. You weren’t used to being talked so gently to, “Is your partner the one doing this to you?” he grimaced a bit at the question, almost like he felt bad even suggesting that incase he was wrong, but the way his body tensed up at your eyes quickly averting away from him you knew he got his answer.

“He loves me. I just do and say things that he doesn’t like,” you shrugged as if what you just said wasn’t a major problem. Your eyes began to fill with tears again and you let out an annoyed huff, “I’m sorry Sebastian, i really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. There’s nothing you can do to help me. I’ve grown used to the fact that i am stuck in my relationship.”

“y/n please look at me,” he asked again, seemingly satisfied when you complied, “just that sentence alone is enough to scare me. A grown man, hell even a child knows not to hit other people. There’s nothing normal about this situation and you need to get out of it. I’m not going to sit here and say it’ll be smooth sailing and that you’ll instantly be happy once it’s over, but for your own safety and livelihood i need you to know that it’s not your fault that he’s hurting you. There’s nothing you could do or say to justify the pain you’re in right now.”

You wanted to fight him on that but the look on his face told you to not even try. He seemed genuinely upset, distraught even. 

“What am i supposed to do?” you ask, throwing your hands up to gesture your frustration. 

“Do you have anyone else you can stay with?” you shook your head no, informing him that the only reason you moved up here was so your boyfriend could get you away from your loved ones. He grunted at that, rolling his chair back so he was back near his desk. He started to search something on his computer and the looks of a hotel made your eyes go wide.

“I can’t put anything like that on my card. He’ll see it and freak.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to pay for this. I’ll pay for it so it’ll have no trace to your name. So there’s your living situation for a while until we can get you something better. I will also happily help you with getting any of your belongings out of your current place. My close buddy is a police here in town and can also accompany us to ensure your absolute safety because there’s no guarantee without him that i wouldn’t beat the shit out of your boyfriend,” he talked so casually like what he was saying wasn’t changing your entire life. You shook your head not being able to wrap your mind around this true chance to get away from your boyfriend. There’s so many things that could go wrong, would all of this be worth it when there’s always that possibility that your boyfriend could absolutely lose it and want to actually kill you? There’s so many stories out there of partners exactly like your boyfriend that won’t take a break up seriously and come back to stalk, hurt and kill their exes. would you end up just another one of those damaged ex girlfriends?

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before he finally looked away from his computer screen and looked at your frightened face. He would never understand how your mind works through this terrible situation but he so badly wanted to help. 

“Why are you willing to help me so much?” You manage to ask. You look up at him and see something flash over his expression before it goes back to being soft. 

“You’re worth more than you think. You’re sure as hell worth more than being beaten down by scum. I care, i know matthew cares, even the others who brought up your black eye to both of us care. You just haven't been shown affection like that in who knows how long and think i’m doing something crazy here when really i just want you to be safe and happy. it’s what any decent human wants for everyone else.”

For the first time in years you had the urge to hug. You wanted to throw your arms around Sebastian and say a million thank yous, but you didn’t want to overstep.

“Sebastian i just - i don’t know what to say,” you chuckled out through the few tears that slipped out. 

“You don’t have to say anything, let’s just talk over this a bit, i’ll give my friend a call and we’ll get a plan set up.” you nodded as you both stood up. Your legs felt weak and the pain of standing straight up was overwhelming but you sufficed through. 

He watched how you moved and a deep frown covered his face. Your previous thoughts of overstepped evacuated your mind and without thinking you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. It took a second for him to register what was going on, but he was gentle to wrap his arms around your back. You felt tense, but the second he reciprocated the hug your body loosened up and a small sense of happiness floated throughout your entire being. Everything was going to change. You were actually going to do this. There was so much that was going to happen, but for the first time in forever you felt relieved so for now, you were just going to embrace that.

A/N - please let me know if i should do another part to this! I do have more ideas for the storyline that would involve more of a relationship between the reader and sebastian, but i don’t want to do it if no one else wants that hahah

[sun-is-a-square]

First go of posting some writing on this acct! I love c!Dream and I wanted to play around with writing him, so I wrote this drabble because Quackity’s last stream is living in my head rent-free lmao. Not my best writing, but I had fun!

((Also @dreamsclock I sent you an anon saying you inspired me to do some writing and you said to tag you so hi! Thanks for all your godtier writing <3))

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of torture, injuries, cycle of abuse, c!Quackity and c!Sam critical, general dark themes & content

They say that when Pandora’s box was opened, the only thing left inside was hope. People tell the myth as if that were inspiring, special; a promise that despite all the evils in the world, you could always hold on to hope. No one mentions that “hope” was an incomplete translation of the original Greek story. An ironic mockery of the truth. No, what was left in the box of evils was not quite hope, but “deceptive expectation.”

False hope.

How fucking hilarious was it, how morbidly perfect, that this inescapable prison was called Pandora’s Vault. Any strangled threads of hope that could live there were just lies to tell yourself when sleep wouldn’t come. And it was poetic justice, wasn’t it? Disgustingly, torturously perfect.

Dream had grown to accept the punishments from the Warden. By now, he found himself almost looking forward to them as much as he dreaded them. It was hellish—a pickaxe meant for breaking rock could easily splinter bone, ripping open bloody gashes in flesh and muscle, wounds that had to be cauterized in the lava in order to keep from bleeding out. To be broken and beat, defenseless for the first time in his life, it was like living a nightmare. But Dream could live with that.

It was fine if he thought he might choke on his own blood, it was fine if he suffered under the hands of a man who’d been his friend in another life, all of it was /fine/. He was punished for breaking the rules, for causing a ruckus, for the crimes that had brought him here to begin with. At least there was a reason, at least he could somehow twist the suffering to feel justified.

But despite it all, the routine of punishment meant that for just a few moments, Dream wouldn’t be alone. Because hell, it was one thing to be alone because you’d ruined all your friendships and broken all your bonds, but it was another thing /entirely/ to be trapped in a stone box for months on end, without so much as a glimpse of another human face. Even if the Warden only came to punish Dream, even if it was agonizing in so many ways, for a few hours he wouldn’t be drowning in silence.

He couldn’t depend on a visit from Sapnap, or Bad, and especially not George—they first two had come once each, with no sign of George at all. Though he’d never admit it, the way they looked at him—anger, betrayal, guilt, pity—it hurt Dream. Despite all his best efforts to cut off attachments, he was still human. He still loved them, whether he wanted to or not. And he knew it was his own fault, that he could only blame himself, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

But he could depend on being punished. Hell, he could even control it to an extent, acting up and causing trouble if he was that desperate to see another person. And in some ways, it hurt less than having visitors, because there was no pity in the Warden’s eyes. It was cause and effect. It was justice. And deep down a part of Dream was convinced he really did deserved this this, that he’d earned this hollow mockery of living, that this was always how his story had to end.

It’s a lie, a little scrap of false hope that all at least the pain is justified.

Quackity is what proves him wrong.

Dream lays on the floor, forcing himself to breathe. Every breath is shallow, strained, because even the rise and fall of his chest hurts. He shudders, face wet with tears, throat raw from screaming. Only a few months ago he would have never considered himself pathetic enough to let his weaknesses show, but the dam has been torn open with a bloody axe.

“Last chance to tell me about the resurrection book, Dream,” Quackity said, his voice smooth and charismatic; as if he were greeting an old friend, as if he weren’t soaked in blood. He smiles. Cold, impassive. “If you don’t, I’ll be back tomorrow, and we can pick this back up where we left off.”

Dream shuts his eyes, focusing on his breathing, unsure he could still speak even if he wanted to. Even so, he wouldn’t give up the book. He couldn’t tell them how to bring people back to life. It was too important, too powerful, too useful—and it was the only thing keeping him alive. Once other people had the secret, they’d have no use for Dream, no reason not to kill him. He’d already lost his family, his power, his freedom; he couldn’t lose his life too.

(Then again, maybe death would be a mercy compared to this.)

He’s dragged out of the darkness by pain, the wooden hilt of the axe grinding against an open wound. Dream chokes on a sob, shuddering, curling in on himself. If the sound of suffering bothers Quackity, he hides it behind an expert poker’s face. He pulls his axe back, his hostile smile turning to annoyance. “Are you going to say anything or what?”

Dream takes a staggered breath, the taste of blood bitter in his tongue. He forces himself to speak, if only out of fear that silence would drag out the pain. “No,” he says, his voice weak and unsteady. “I won’t... won’t tell.”

Quackity scowls, turning his back on Dream. Once, no one would have dared let their guard down around him, all too aware of how powerful he was. But lying on the floor, bloody, bruised, broken, he was a threat to no one.

And Quackity was saying goodbye, promising to be back tomorrow, but Dream didn’t have the life left in him to beg to be left alone.

His hands were cold—he hadn’t felt cold since being locked in the prison. A symptom of blood loss, Dream realized faintly, letting his eyes fall shut again. He didn’t understand how Quackity had smuggled in those weapons, how he’d been able to slip each blade in past the countless security measures the Warden enforced. It just wasn’t possible.

Not without help.

Not without broken rules.

Not unless Sam /knew./

Dream whimpers, glad to be alone, glad to have no one see how pitiful he’s become. He knew that Sam, /the Warden/, was not his friend. Any bond they’d had died a long time ago, in large part because of Dream’s own actions. But he still trusted Sam, to an extent, believed his former friend acted with good intentions. After all, wasn’t it the duty of a warden to punish the prisoner? Wasn’t it justice?

Sam had broke the prison rules to let Quackity torture Dream. He’d refused to break the rules to let Tommy out, but he had broken them to make Dream suffer.

And this wasn’t punishment. This wasn’t justice, or karma, or anything right. He was already locked up, he was already beat within an inch of his life, he was already paying for his crimes. If it wasn’t payment enough, if they still thought he deserved worse, they should have taken his third life.

Dream felt hot tears running down his cheeks, but he was too weak to wipe his eyes, too broken to hold them back. He’d thought if what he did was for the good of the server, then the ends justified the means; that no matter how much bad he did it could be forgiven if it was meant selflessly. But that depended on the idea that what was good for the server /was/ good.

There was no part of this Hell worth protecting.

This whole server was corrupt and cruel. Wasn’t Dream himself just further proof of that? Another example of a good person turned into a monster? There were no heroes among them. There was no happy ending waiting at the end of the road, not for Dream, not for the server, not for any of them. None of them deserved as much anyway.

A fire sparked in Dream’s chest, feeding on his pain like kindling, roaring like an inferno. It’s burning him alive, a hate so hot and painful it mirrors the agony wracking his body.

He will never tell them how to get the resurrection book. He will never break. Some day, somehow, he’ll escape the vault. Forget power, forget revenge, none of it holds a candle now. It’s not enough, it was /never/ enough. Maybe that was how Wilbur had felt towards the end. Maybe Dream would ask the other man personally.

A world so bleak and cruel had no right to exist. No one came out unscarred, free of corruption or hate. It had to come down. /All of it./ He’d see the whole server burn, purging it of every war, every betrayal, every broken hateful soul. He would live, if only to see to it that all of this would end.

Hell, maybe that was the closest Dream would ever come to redemption.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Bloodstone | Part 9

Summary: You knew all about the ring your grandmother had told you about and yet when the stone fell from it one fateful day, you weren’t truly prepared for its return, nor who it came back with.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: fantasy / romance

Warnings: angst

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

You merely stared back at Namjoon, trying to register if he had actually uttered such a statement. Wasn’t he the one breathing into your ear that he would never leave you just the day before? And now, not only had you woken up in your apartment alone and panicked so much that you had cried all the way to the comic store, the first thing Namjoon said upon seeing you only caused your heartache to deepen.

You never knew love could cut so deep like this.

“Let me explain,” he begged, noticing the heightened despair rolling out from your shaking body in his lap. “I believe Percy existed after the shattering of the stone. From what I’ve read, I’m certain this is how we break free from its hold on us.”

“But you’ll disappear from my world,” you whispered and Namjoon nodded grimly.

“I don’t know how long the timeframe apart will be, but I’m certain after reading the books Yoongi has spread out here that it won’t be the end.”

“It’s such a big risk to take,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don’t want to try.”

“You really don’t have much of a choice, Y/N,” Yoongi spoke up from the doorway, stepping closer. “I’m not sure what he’s suggesting, but if it’s about the shattering of the stone, I think that’s the only way to break free from this trap.”

“There’s no evidence is there that this has worked?” you asked both men, knowing they had each poured their attention over the books before you. You grew hopeful despite the desperate tone. You needed hope. If you couldn’t find even a shred of it in any of this then you knew you wouldn’t be able to agree.

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon and they both shook their heads at the same time. “I mean, I found several anecdotes but every time the shattered stone took place, the human left behind did something tragic or married another instead. There’s been no documented happy ending, no.”

“Yoongi has done some research into the bloodstone outside of this one we know of. Here, why don’t you-”

“I can’t deal with this,” you announced, getting up shakily and distancing yourself. “I can’t talk about this rationally. You’re both suggesting something that could easily mean the end of your existence, Namjoon. You don’t know if you will exist after the stone breaks. And we don’t know for sure if that will even happen so…”

“Stop kidding yourself, Y/N,” Yoongi scolded and you glanced at your best friend through a veil of tears. “There’s enough evidence either way that this won’t end well. Are you going to bury your head in the sand? Maybe with the stone letting Namjoon go free we can hope for the best that he’s out there existing still. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I…” you started, shaking your head. It didn’t matter how you worded it, you felt selfish. You didn’t want anything to change. The stone wasn’t causing Namjoon any harm right now, so why did any of this have to interrupt what you had together? You saw no need for this anxious driven stage in your relationship. You were happy to go back to the moment before you found out what the stone could do.

For a second, as you stared at Namjoon’s saddened expression, you thought of life before him. You hadn’t been suffering then. Sure, you hadn’t felt as enlightened and fulfilled as you did now with his love either. But if it was destined to end, you wished you hadn’t started at all.

“I’m going to go,” you said in a detached tone, turning around dashing out of the store.

You ran to the park you had entered the day before, letting out a bitter breath when you remembered your desperate claims.

There was so much more you wanted to do with Namjoon at your side. Now that was up in the air with his proclamation.

“I forgot how fast you can be when you put your mind to it,” a familiar voice huffed out, and you glanced at Yoongi bent over in front of you, catching his breath. He gave you a wry smile. “Is this your idea of making me exercise other things than my brain and hands over books?”

“I’m not in the mood for your humour, Yoongi.”

“No.” He stood upright and stepped closer. “But I hope you’re in the mood to listen to your longest friend for a moment.”

“Everything’s crumbling around me. I don’t know how to cope with any of it.”

“Is anyone expecting you to? Is anyone asking you to give out all the answers? I can’t even understand the guy yet I can tell he’s trying his best not to leave you either.”

“I wish you could hear him properly,” you lamented with a sigh directed at the heavens. “Then things would be a little easier.”

“I don’t know about that,” Yoongi mused, looking up at the heavens squinting. ��I think if we could communicate better, I might start to like him more.”

You glanced at your friend. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“He kind of stepped up better than I’ve ever tried for you. I want to hate him for that,” he confessed and you merely stared at Yoongi’s uneasy expression, realising he was finally saying something about the feelings you knew he harboured at the back of his heart.

“I’d rather you be the best friend I could ever have. Love is so overrated,” you replied and Yoongi chuckled. “It is! Friendship is superior.”

“Says the girl who walked into my shop smiling like the Cheshire cat yesterday. You suit being in love, Y/N.”

“It’s crazy how different one day can make everything,” you mentioned softly, dropping your head as your emotions built up again. “I’m scared I will never see him again.”

Namjoon decided to wait for you back at the apartment. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to find you himself, but when Yoongi stopped his chase after you and shook his head, Namjoon realised his short appearance in your world meant nothing compared to the lifelong companion you had in Yoongi.

It also gave him further time to contemplate his next steps.

He was scared too. Namjoon knew that was what fuelled your discomfort towards the situation. If he had to exist in another realm than yours then it would be torturous to have tasted just a small portion of his love with you. It hadn’t been enough time.

He wondered if the stone gave each couple a certain amount of days together or if there was a variable in place for each situation. From what he had read, Victoria and Percy had planned both marriage and children within three weeks of knowing one another. The stone probably came with a time limit since the overwhelming emotions accelerated the courtship of each pair compared to usual romance.

It bothered him to be tied to something that took away his control.

Perhaps he would get a chance to love you wholeheartedly without it in his way in the future. Clasping his hands together, he prayed silently for this, hoping the grander divinities would listen out for his plea.

He didn’t want to face the same fate as his father after all this.

Would you cast him aside as Eliza had? Knowing that it didn’t save his father, would you still feel it the better option than the unknown? At least he could live out his remaining lifespan, albeit miserably.

Namjoon would never take another as his bride.

You eventually returned to the apartment, looking destroyed. It seemed even with Yoongi’s best attempts, a depression had taken over your state of mind. Wordlessly, you stared at Namjoon’s half risen posture from the couch at your return before heading down to the bedroom and shutting the door firmly behind you.

He waited on the couch for you to leave the confines of your troubles behind, your quiet movement in the early hours of the morning through the living space alerting him from his unfocused gaze. Blinking several times, he watched as you padded into the kitchen area for a glass of water, his stare unrelenting as you finished in the kitchen and stepped across the room towards him.

With a strangled sob, you crossed the remaining space and fell into his arms, clinging onto him dearly. Namjoon hadn’t been one to cry often over the hundreds of years he had lived. However, with the distraught sounds leaving you, he fell into his own misery, both of you allowing your hearts to mourn what you had.

The knowledge you held now meant there was no return to oblivious bliss anytime soon.

Once the emotions ran their course, you cleared your throat noisily, still curled up within his arms. “Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t let you be poisoned. Eliza didn’t know any better at the time. She thought it was her best option and whilst I don’t hate her for it, I won’t make the same mistake.”

He let out a heavy breath he didn’t even realise he had held. “I couldn’t survive the way my father had.”

“And I won’t be like Victoria either,” you pointed out shakily, finally lifting your head up enough to look at your lover. Giving him a watery smile, you attempted to ease his concerns. “I’ll continue to live. My existence isn’t solely to be consumed with love. I have a lot more to learn and experience.”

“That you do.”

“I don’t want to let go of you anytime soon. But I feel maybe if we address what we’re willing to risk maybe this moment will pass and the sheer amount of pain and fear I feel ridden with will ease.”

Namjoon smiled sadly. “I want the same.”

“As much as it pains me,” you stated, biting at your lip to steady some of your emotions as you placed a hand over his chest, over the stone entirely. “I won’t ever stop loving you. If that love pulls us apart with the shattering of this stone, then know that my heart will leave with you. Please bring it back to me with your return.”

Leaning in to kiss your tear-stained lips gently, Namjoon rested his forehead against yours. “No matter how long it takes me, I will find a way back to you.”

He couldn’t tell if his promise eased you enough or it was from exhaustion, but you soon fell asleep buried into his embrace. Closing his eyes, Namjoon pleaded repetitively to find you once more in this lifetime. Fragments of his previous world flashed before his eyes, his sister calling out his name repeatedly until it felt as if she were in the same room as he was. He snapped his eyes open, aghast to find himself in his studio again, Marian letting out a relieved breath. “About time, brother. Do you know how--”

Her sentence halted when Namjoon threw himself out of the chair he had been slumped onto and moved over to the looking glass upon the wall. Staring into the reflection, he hastily unbuttoned his shirt, feeling at his chest, tears falling from his eyes with how smooth and normal it was.

The stone was now gone.

_________________

Part 10

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[ktheist]

twenty-five

chapters:  24 / 25 / 26

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

The party is in full swing. Men and women dressed in their finest article. Colorful ribbons hang overhead like a rainbow without a sky.

Your first dance was with Taehyung, as tradition required it. But he was whisked away by the daughters of Barons and Marquises as soon as the song ends and you accepted a couple dances from a neighboring noble and your sister. She had arrived as part of the Northern Kingdom’s delegates.

“How does his majesty treat you?” She had spoken in such a direct tone, you almost thought yourself crazy for looking around in case the nearby couples heard.

It was a few heartbeats later that you reminded yourself it was as normal as a pleasantry could get.

“He treats me fairly well, sister.” You schooled an easy smile - but Minju being Minju, spotted the stiff angles and hard set brows in your features almost instantly.

Instead of prodding some more, she had sighed and murmured her surrender, “I’m glad you’re getting along well. I was worried after what happened since you last returned home.”

“Home,” you echoed, the words sounding foreign now, “what a luxurious concept.”

You would have sat down with Minju somewhere in the corner and catch up but the noblemen were faster. They’d swept her away in a blink of an eye. You did search for her after the dance but with the sea of people, having had extend the invitation to the people, you can barely recognize the faces in the room.

In the end, you find yourself in the White Lotus room on the opposite end of the hallway way. The fact that someone else was in the room goes past you like a ghost of a presence. It is only when you hear his familiar velvet voice, do you jump from your spot in fright.

“Not everyone can sneak in on me,” you let your lips curl into a smirk a second later, impressed but not at all unexpected from your knight-turned-ghost.

“To be fair, I was here first, your majesty.” Jungkook states, his voice laced you with a trace of humor.

“I own this place.” You plant your hands on your hips, noticing how a numbing pain spreads through your body from the small touch.

The royal physician said it was normal to experience pain in your lower back and hips in your second to third trimester as your body begin adjusting to the growing life inside you.

“Indeed, along with everything and everyone who lives here,” he stands up from the exquisite sofa imported from ribwit’s, a hundred and thirty two year old mahogany, “you are my master.”

Something in the way he calls you that makes your stomach churn with unrest. You don’t need to look in the mirror to know your face has contorted into tense eyebrows and troubled pout, “you’re your own person, Jungkook.”

The man simply chuckles - as though he knew what you were about to say before you even did.

He lifts a hand, palm facing the ceiling, “may I have the honor of this dance?”

“But there’s no music,” you say but place you hand in his anyway, your other hand making its way to his shoulder while his free hand makes its way you your waist - or where it’s supposed to be.

It started to disappear and meld with your growing stomach. Dresses you own no longer fit you. Everyday, the royal seamstress sends you new clothes to cater to your changing physique.

“Is it true? That you were looking for a second wife for the King?” The question hits the air like a smoke bomb after silence lapses between you whilst you sway to a distant sound of the musical instruments from the ballroom.

 You don’t know why you’re surprised when there’s been rumors circulating around your withdrawn interview for the position.

“I won’t pretend to be clueless of my own actions,” you begin, “but the King had strongly disapproved of it, I can’t force it upon him.”

“But you’ve never had any problem wrapping him around your fingers until now, have you?” His breath hits your face - if you would just crane your neck, you have no doubt that you’ll find his eyes boring into you but you choose to fix your gaze on the silver embroidery of his attire.

It is the question that comes a second later that makes you involuntarily search his eyes in the dark of the night.

“Have you fallen for him?”

You’re the first to stop moving - you know, because his hand shifts with his movement and they halt when he notices your motionless state. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, how could I?” it is a defense but it is as weak as a baby’s hold on a candy.

A noise escapes him, something between a laugh and a scoff as he lets his hand fall away from you and take a step back.

“You let a man who tried to kill you into your bed - like he didn’t burn an entire village down while you watched, helpless.” His words are knives and you’ve find your hand bracing your belly more than it’s held a sword, “he caused you so much pain, your majesty yet you let him hold you like a lover.”

The man in front of you is the splitting image of your knight. The same set of brows, the same set of doe eyes yet they are fiercely and unforgivably fixed on you while his tall frame now seem to tower over you like a looming threat. And perhaps that’s why your heart bursts into flames, palpitating against the cages encasing it within your chest.

“If anything, it was you who pushed me right into the tyrant’s arms,” your blood runs hot, as do your claim as you take a step forward, eyes trained on his brown ones. 

But it is short-lived as tears begin to prick your waterline from the onslaught of emotions that flood into your chest, putting out the fire within, “I-I asked you to run away with me the first night we spent together but you didn’t want to - why didn’t you want to?”

It is apparent from the way his gaze falters and the dulling light in his eyes - that the memories begin to flash in the back of his mind like a play performed over and over again.

“I’m undeserving of such sacrifice, princess.”

You’re not sure if he’d spoken that name consciously. But it still takes you back to the first time you find yourself alone with him - with you trying to hide from your governor and him, possibly on a night walk. Back when you were a princess and her royal knight.

“I couldn’t - I can’t steal you away from the people just when they have a chance at a prosperous life under your reign,” Jungkook shakes his head as though willing the idea of escaping these walls and living a free life - away, “even now, you’ve made so much changes even though they are not the people you were meant to rule.”

There’s a faint taste of blood in your mouth when you release your bottom lip from the confines of your teeth, shoulder line falling as you let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding.

Every word he said bears truth. You wanted a fairer rule - a kinder one compared to your father’s and Taehyung’s father. The latter was not as cruel as the man you grew up looking at with admiration and later learned the abhorrent acts he had committed. Seokjin is a wise King - but if given a choice, you can’t say for certain that you would let him have the throne if he had so much as expressed his desire for it - had you not chosen to marry a rival monarch.

It is your one disposition. Ungodly as it may be.

“You think I’m despicable for being unable to let you go and yet desiring Taehyung all at once.” You wipe a drop of tear from your eyes - but the truth is, you don’t wish to see Jungkook’s expression when you ask that question. No amount of time and bracing could prepare you for when you see his face contort in displeasure or perhaps even disgust-

“No,” a pair of warm hands frame your cheeks, forcing you to look up at the most enchanting cosmos trapped in the eyes of the man you will never have, they’re hazed with something you can’t pinpoint as he closes them, eyebrows knitting together as he rests his forehead on yours, “please forget what I said... after realizing your growing feelings for him... I was scared you wouldn’t need me anymore. ”

“I’m sorry,” the waterworks comes in full force - perhaps it’s the pregnancy. The physician did say you’d feel a series of overwhelming emotions out of the blue almost too often. Or perhaps it’s guilt rearing its ugly head - and rightfully so - for the unguarded pathway to the garden of your heart, “I’m sorry I let him into my heart - I’m sorry I can’t let him walk out of it.”

That night, Jungkook holds you in his arms, drawing little circles on the side of your stomach where you feel the first bump from the growing life within you.

“It’s yours, you see,” your voice is barely above whisper but you know he hears it well, “I’m sure - I started getting the symptoms after the night at the inn.”

He doesn’t say a word, instead he paces a gentle kiss on your head, disallowing you to look up at him and study his expression - whether he’s happy or whether he’s sad, you’ll never know.

“I’ll need some time to process that, your majesty,” his muffles his words into your tresses, but it does not go unheard as a smile makes its way to your lips “even if it isn’t, it’s part of you and that’s all I need to swear I would protect the next heir with my life.”

You stay in his arms for as long as the night allows you to until the music begins to cease - a telltale sign of the guests getting ready to leave for the lantern adorned streets and march down to the lake to light up the lanterns and release them into the night. Taehyung had held your hand instead of the formality of having his arm held by his queen - it would be a lie if you said you were oblivious to the shift in your relationship.

You were no longer just his queen.

[chibimyumi]

Yana and Grelle - Owning Up to Mistakes

Dear everyone,

I have made quite a number of posts on the topic of Grelle’s gender identity so far, but only now did I realise I never addressed a very noteworthy and rare thing.

Fame tends to get to people’s heads, and admitting mistakes becomes seemingly more difficult the greater one’s fame is. We could all agree that Yana achieved considerable fame herself, but something I find admirable about her is that she has always remained very humble and honest. This is a trait that not many famous people are known for. Ughum, *points at a certain author with the initials J.K.R.

When Yana realised that she had fallen into the trap of writing a trope character based on a very harmful stereotype of queer people being uncontrolled psychopaths, she never once attempted to back-peddle, ret-con, or excuse her past decisions. Instead, Yana owned up to her mistakes, and took the time to redo Grelle whatever justice she could within the terrible limitations she had trapped herself in.

Is Grelle a character now entirely free of harmful stereotypes and messages? No, she is not. But has she become a character that is a person, rather than just the embodiment of a list of stereotypes? Yes. Grelle has undergone incredible character growth, and this growth was possible because Yana used a very clever storytelling method. Intermission.

Intermission

Grelle was introduced in the Jack the Ripper Arc, and left the storyline in chapter 12. It was not until chapter 55 again in the Campania Arc that she returned to us. Grelle’s absence was in-story justified as she was still in disciplinary confinement. After her return, she was a different person. Grelle was still very sexually provoking and all-over-the-place, but there was no doubt that she had become way more professional. Regardless of how much she wanted to appeal to Sebastian for example, she still prioritised her job as a reaper over winning Sebas’ favours.

This is in stark contrast with her previous behaviour in the Jack the Ripper Arc. She had the upper hand during the fight with Sebastian, but because of her vanity and preoccupation with Sebas’ charms, Sebastian found a window of time to defeat her. Grelle’s response to Sebastian being an obstacle in the Campania Arc is unthinkable for her had it been 48 chapters earlier. Through this contrast, we see that Grelle was capable of self-reflection and demonstrated greater level of self-control. As a cherry on top was the introduction of Ronald, a junior reaper who looks up to his senior. Ronald is not shy to compliment Grelle’s talents during their brawl against the Undertaker, and he shows us that Grelle is in fact a respected individual who has a friend.

After the Campania Arc, Grelle remains entirely absent until chapter 102, and does not have anything to do until chapter 125. In chapter 125, Grell is reintroduced again as an even more skillful reaper. Here, we get an even better glimpse on Grelle’s social status through Othello, who is friendly, positive and respectful towards her. Among the reapers who are more familiar with Grelle, we now see that only William is disrespectful towards her. Herewith, we can conclude that the disrespect from this one reaper is more of a personal antagonism, and that overall, Grelle must be decent enough (in the workplace at least) to have earned the respect from at least one junior (Ronald) and one senior (Othello).

Because of the great time intervals between Grelle’s appearances in the manga, we - the audience - can see the enormous growth in Grelle’s character in but a few panels, without it feeling like a sudden character-180 that was shoe-horned in by the author in an attempt to ret-con Grelle’s past problematic behaviour.

Origins of Grelle

In this interview with Editor K in light of the Lycoris that Blazes the Earth 2015 musical, Editor K reveals that Yana originally intended to write Jack the Ripper as a woman in order to challenge the long-standing image of Jack being a man. G Fantasy however, urged Yana to design a male character instead, as it would make the manga more palatable considering the demographics of the magazine’s readers. They insisted on Yana designing a foil to the titular black butler, and specifically “a silver-haired beautiful man with the voice actor Sakurai Takahiro in mind, as such a character would be more popular (laughs)”. (Yes, this is the design origin of the Undertaker.)

Yana however, insisted on keeping the female Jack the Ripper, but also gave G Fantasy (what Yana thought to be at the time) a middle ground. An okama, to be paired up with the female Jack the Ripper.

Spiraling Out of Control

As I said previously, except for the one time that Yana described Grelle as ‘a man with a maiden’s heart’, she never once referred to her as a male character. The misconception of Grelle being male is purely and solely the result of mistranslation, which was then reinforced ten-fold by the anime by casting Fukuyama Jun as Grelle, with the instructions to play up ‘the flamboyant gay stereotype’. When the anime was produced however, Yana hardly had any say in the matter. We all know how much the anime differs from the original manga. And along with the greater popularity of the anime, Yana’s say over Grelle spiraled out of control. As diplomatic as Yana is however, she of course never conveyed any explicit dismay. But as this post shows, her silence does not equate to her approval.

Yana Admitting Her Limits

Though Yana tried her best to redo Grelle some justice and undo some insult towards any identities represented by Grelle’s character, the harm of writing a queer character as a psychopathic molester and serial killer had already been done. Yana realised that there was nothing she could do within her own power to undo this harm despite being the goddess of her manga universe.

When the musical ‘Tango on the Campania’ was planned, Yana saw a chance to get a few mistakes rectified.

“Ah, but this time after the completion of the script, I had a request to Grell’s actor Mr. Uehara. “Could you please [play her] as a strong woman”, I said (laughs) In the original comics, Grell does not make an appearance between the Red Butler Arc and the Luxury Liner Arc, and therefore people often think she is useless at her job. So I asked [Mr. Uehara] to please portray her as a career woman in front of her kouhai (younger colleague, aka Ronald)” 【Toboso】

This is but a simple tweet, but it tells us that Yana is aware:

of what people think of Grelle - an incompetent reaper,

that her manga did not manage to adequately portray Grelle as a strong woman,

and that redoing Grelle full justice is beyond her own power.

I personally think it is very admirable how Yana publicly admitted that she made a mistake, and needed a new chance and a new actor to help her in this. And the result is spectacular.

Just by comparing the 2014 and the 2015, 2018 runs of the musical, we can clearly see the difference in Uehara’s portrayal of Grelle. While Uehara portrayed Grelle as the psychopathic gay man and the butt of the joke in 2014, in 2015 and 2018, Uehara!Grelle was largely revamped, and became a troubled woman who went through a lot of psychological pain.

In Conclusion

One does not need to like Grelle as either character or person. One does not need to agree with her as representation, let alone feel comfortable being represented by her. But I think it is important to acknowledge that Grelle’s character reflects Yana’s humble attitude and honesty, as well as her personal growth as a person. Grelle‘s journey mirrors Yana’s journey as a mangaka, after all.

For more on Grelle and the misconception that surrounds her, please click 1.here, 2.here, 3.here, 4.here, 5.here and 6.here. I am pretty sure I missed some posts, but if you are interested in more, please use the ‘#Grelle Sutcliffe’ tag on my blog.

[facesofthefog]

[Punishment & Reward meme: CLOSED] @midnight-radio-host​​

TW: Mentions of physical torture, non-con, adult content, misgendering, victim blaming, bastard being a bastard

By pressing the “read more” you agree that you are over the age of 18, have read the trigger warnings presented above and that you are willing to interact with this work of fiction.

"Have you heard of the blood eagle?" a bodiless voice suddenly spoke from the fog revealing that Jude was not alone in the forest. A strong hand gripped at the survivor's nape and pushed him into the closest tree. The tip of a knife was pushed against his spine, but it did not break skin just yet. "It is a punishment method used by the Vikings. They would make an incision along the spine and break their victims' ribs. Then, they would pull out the broken bones and lungs to stretch them out in the shape of wings. A bloody sacrifice to their god, Odin."

The blade was moved down from the nape to the hips over the spine cutting through layers of material with ease. It was only through a godly intervention that it did not damage any. After all, it was not what the being in power wanted. They planned to scare the poor survivor and take off his clothes. Nothing more. Yet.

"I was thinking; if I would do it to you, my sweet angel, you would have wings of your own" the Entity sounded excited about this revelation and the tip of the knife returned to Jude's back, cold metal against warm flesh. "But the problem is that red does not fit you. Whilst yes, it would look nice on your pale skin, your wings would have to be perfectly white."

With that, the knife disappeared, and the Entity moved in closer, pressing his hips against the survivor's bare back. He rested his hands on the bark on either side of the survivor’s sides, trapping Jude between the cold body and equally cold tree. No longer holding onto the back of the other's neck, he allowed Jude some freedom of movement. Only a tiny bit, that would permit the survivor to push back away from the tree which would, in turn, lead to their bodies connecting further. 

"You are one of my favourites, Jude" the older purred with delight into his ear. "But you have trouble with following the rules. I told you the woods are a dangerous place. You keep on venturing in by yourself. A man can get the wrong idea. Are you actively seeking me out, my darling?" 

His cold hand moved towards his victim’s hip, under the damaged material and up to one of the survivor's breasts. An exaggerated gasp left him, as he gave a cautious squeeze. 

"Naughty boy!" he sounded appalled, yet it was all just an act. He knew everything about Jude and his past. There was nothing that could be hidden from him. "Or should I rather say girl, Elizabeth?"

A satisfied grin spilled onto his face, whilst the survivor tried to fight back. Jude's elbow almost connected with the body behind him, but red strings stopped his arm mere inches from his target. Even if he fought against his bonds, the strings were stronger and forced his wrists together before wrapping around the closest branch to keep him in place. The tension forced the survivor’s body into an upright position and made him stand on the tips of his toes.

"Come on baby girl, where are your manners? Fighting is not lady-like. What would your mother say if she saw this?" 

Jude was not allowed to answer. More strings of red formed a signature convenient gag that filled his lips and prevented any words from spilling. The only sounds which interested the Entity were either moans of pleasure or screams of pain. He wondered which would fall from the other’s lips first.

Whilst the radio host may have expected pain, torture, the blade’s return, it was a kiss he received instead. The cool soft lips gently connected with his nape and palms continued to wander, exploring the body they never had a chance to touch before, not in such a way at least, and the Entity loved every single inch of the bare skin.

“I am going to fuck you” he whispered into Jude’s ear as if it was a secret. “And you are going to love every second of it.”

The Entity licked at the male’s neck and sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He could not help it. He craved for the body shivering before him and the frustration of having to wait forced the bite, the mark. It was not the same as the last time. There was no flesh torn, there was no blood either, but the outline of teeth was visible. Mine, passed his mind as he watched Jude.

The palm moved lower to Jude’s belt. There was nothing that could stop the Entity. Nobody to walk in on them and convince the being to not undress the survivor further. No words that the other could speak to prevent what was going to happen. Even trying to kick the Entity would not work, as more string would keep him securely in place. And so, the trousers pooled at his ankles together with the underwear. The Entity licked at his fingers and the cool hand returned to Jude’s stomach, but it only did so to slide down towards the pubic bone and continue further in between his thighs.

At the same time, his free hand fell over Jude’s eyes and his lips returned to the survivor's nape. The spit caused slight tingles as soon as it connected with the skin, comparable to a soft electric current. He sucked and licked at the side of the neck, pushing Jude’s head towards his shoulder for easier access. His hand slick from his spit slowly rubbed up the radio host's clit before moving down to repeat the motion. 

"I will make a real woman out of you. Maybe even take you as my bride" he whispered sweet promises into Jude’s ear, taking a short pause from marking him with hickeys. "I bet you would plead for me to do it if you could speak, but I don't need your words to know what you want. I know you so well, my sweet little angel." 

Tasting his skin was pleasurable, but not satisfactory. The entity wanted to experience more from his new lover, which forced him to hook his finger into Jude before bringing it to his mouth. He licked and sucked on it with a pleasured hum, the need for more only growing stronger. The hand on Jude’s eyes was replaced with a thick red ribbon, taking away his ability to see for longer, as the being turned him around so both could face each other. 

"So beautiful, so sweet. You are simply perfect, my dear. I cannot get enough of you. I want to experience more of your body. I can, can't I?"

Even if he asked for consent, he did not wait for a reply which would not come regardless. So certain that Jude would want him, he did not even consider the chance of hearing a" no". Kneeling, he stared for a short while at what was offered and breathed a warm breath into Jude’s crotch. 

"So tempting" he moaned out and kissed the thigh. "Everything about you. You, coming here, being such a pretty sight, tasting so sweet. All of this was your plan, was it not, Elizabeth?" 

Unable to wait any longer, he rid the survivor of the confines around his feet in the form of shoes and hanging clothing. This allowed him to perch Jude’s leg on his shoulder and lick carefully at the exposed crotch. His tongue curling up with each stroke and his eyes closing to focus fully on the task. Slow torturous licks came one after another, the Entity having all the time in the world. Every so often the tip of his tongue would push harder onto the sensitive nub, forcing the hood to reveal more of Jude’s clit out for teasing. 

Suddenly the licking stopped. To the blindfolded victim, it might have felt as if the Entity gave up, but then the being sucked the flesh on the inside of Jude’s thighs causing red bruises to appear. Each mark was followed by a gentle kiss and a hum of appreciation. To the Entity, they looked like beautiful roses on a bed of snow and they showed that Jude belonged only to him. That he alone could please his little angel. He knew the survivor's body, knew what the other wanted, he could increase Jude’s sensitivity to touch and was willing to make use of it all. Who would make you feel better than I can, fell through his mind. 

There was a movement from the kneeling body, his arm shifting ever so slightly as the Entity's thumb spread Jude’s swollen lip and the skilled tongue entered the moist cavity tasting the juices within. It was quickly replaced with a finger, then two, as his mouth returned to the other's clit. He sucked ever so gently, but whenever he pushed his tongue against it, it was done with more force, fingers thrusting in and out in time to the movements of his mouth. 

It did not take long for the body to react. There was even no need to become more forceful, as the soft flesh contracted against the long fingers and the restricted body convulsed. He slipped his fingers free and lapped up the overflowing juices as if they were the only liquid he had in his mouth for days. His hand held onto the leg preventing the radio host from escaping his current position. The Entity was not done with him just yet, making use of the oversensitive body. The sounds passing through the tight gag were beyond divine and he was not ready to lose it just yet. Not until the body tensed for the second time.

"It seems you are enjoying yourself, my sweet Jude" he purred and kissed the thigh again before setting the leg back on the ground. The ribbon fell from the survivor's eyes and the strings loosened ever so slightly, still keeping him upright, but letting his soles touch the ground. The Entity stood up and kissed him through the gag, whispering soft praises of how well the other behaved, what a good boy he was. How he was sorry for having to treat him that way. That it was only because he cared and did not want Jude getting hurt. He pushed their bodies close and the survivor could feel the bulge rub against his leg. "But do not worry, we are not done just yet." 

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 133: Dewey Wins

“But...I’m hurt.”

I started reviewing the Week of Sardonyx in late 2017. It was slow going thanks to grad school and student teaching and licensing tests and my job (boy do I not miss those days), but I’d clawed my way through Cry for Help in October and Keystone Motel on the first Sunday of November. In those reviews, I wrote at length about how this was the most devastating arc of the series, a massive argument spanning multiple episodes with no easy answers.

Then the Friday after my Keystone Motel post was uploaded, Cartoon Network dropped the Breakup Arc on us all at once, and I had to make some edits.

There’s no official name for the span of episodes between Dewey Wins and Kevin Party, but considering it features not one but two breakups, with only one reconciliation by the end, I think my nickname is apt. Just under a fifth of Season 5 is devoted to six consecutive episodes designed to make us miserable, and on top of being an outstanding sequel to the Week of Sardonyx, it’s the best precursor we’ve got to adolescent trials of Steven Universe Future. 

The Week of Sardonyx is strengthened by numerous previous episodes where Pearl does bad things without consequence, making it something of a shock when her actions are finally addressed. In a similar way, we’ve been taught from Log Date 7 15 2 and Kindergarten Kid and The New Crystal Gems that emotionally draining arcs are followed by cooldown episodes, and Dewey Wins sounds like the name of a fun adventure with our goofy mayor. There’s no situation where the Breakup Arc would be a pleasant affair, but the pattern adds an extra layer of angst as our anticipated relief period ends up more stressful than the arc we needed relief from.

But not every big arc gets a cooldown. Our very first, ending with Jailbreak, is followed by one of the Breakup Arc’s major prequels: Full Disclosure, an episode about missed phone calls and the importance of keeping friends in the loop regarding space adventures. The ghosted party is flipped, as Connie now refuses to talk to Steven, and watching his struggle gives an even greater appreciation for Connie’s own turmoil (not just from Full Disclosure, but Steven’s reckless self-sacrifice).

We know something’s wrong from the moment we see her, in a way that’s different from Greg and the Gems’ wide-eyed concern. Her discomfort manifests just as it did in Mindful Education: a downcast expression and curt demeanor made more apparent by Steven’s cheery chattiness. But because she’s the only one of them that has truly taken the lessons of that episode to heart, she soon expresses her feelings outright (after a brutal “Of course I’m happy to see you”—Grace Rolek only needs one scene to be the episode’s MVP). Her complaints are all valid: this is not the first time she’s been left on Earth, and her sense that Steven isn’t taking her seriously is confirmed when he can’t even take her seriously within the conversation. She’s as direct as she can be, but when Steven refuses to acknowledge her pain, her anger takes over and she shuts him out. Lion’s side-eye is icing on the cake.

My biggest issue with Dewey Wins, however, is Steven. I’m torn, because it’s easy to justify his behavior throughout the episode as a result of recent trauma and the relief at surviving such a harrowing experience (and, later, the same sleeplessness that made him snap in Rose’s Room and Warp Tour). It makes sense that his martyr complex is intensified by his experience with Lars, that he falls back on helping others at the cost of his own well-being on instinct. But his flippant dismissal of Connie’s emotions still feels off, especially because it comes with a heretofore unseen swagger about his own heroism. She pours her heart out, making it clear that she wants to keep being Jam Buds but he’s making it really difficult, but every word goes right over his head. This is a version of Steven that somehow doesn’t get that “hurt” can refer to emotions instead of physical damage.

Throughout the episode, but particularly in this opening scene, Steven feels exaggerated for the sake of honing Connie’s argument. Perhaps it’s necessary, considering how easy it is in first viewing to see his sacrifice as noble rather than selfish; we need to see a more extreme version of his behavior to understand that going it alone was a bad move, or else Connie’s arguments seem small against the scale of the stakes. It’s further complicated by the fact that Steven’s sacrifice was noble, even if it was selfish at the same time. This isn’t a case where Steven is fully right or fully wrong, so it’s bound to be confusing to hear that his traditionally heroic move wasn’t as great as he (or we) first thought.

So yeah, I get why Steven is acting this way for the sake of the show. And, again, I can find reasons to explain his sudden emotional idiocy, making it leagues better than a true Annoying Steven episode. But it still comes across as clumsy to me; I can see the wheels turning to move the plot along in a way that’s normally hidden better on this show. His final monologue where he realizes that Connie felt the way he feels about Dewey abandoning the race feels like something from another show, a show that’s way more on-the-nose than Steven Universe is at its best. It was probably the right move, because as much as I can’t stand it when media is patronizing to young audiences, this lesson is complex enough that it’s worth a little clunkiness to ensure that the message gets through to smaller viewers. But compared to the elegance of our recent space adventure, Dewey Wins sacrifices polish for clarity when we usually get both.

But enough about what doesn’t work for me, because so much of this episode works for me. Even if his behavior feels forced, Steven provides seamless in-universe exposition recapping his space adventure. His follow-up conversation with Sadie has the same kind of douchey detachment that he shows Connie, but in a way that’s far more consistent with his character: dismissing Connie’s emotions is out of left field for him, but it makes plenty of sense that he’d see Lars as “okay” despite being trapped in space, considering the alternative was a very real death. And, of course, there’s the matter of the episode’s actual hero.

Nanefua Pizza has been my everything since Beach Party, and it’s thrilling to see her gain more prominence in the tail end of the series. Her beef with Mayor Dewey has been running since Political Power, the Dewey episode that established all the flaws that drive him out of office in Dewey Wins. Then, she responded by rallying rioters to tip over his truck, but now she takes a more civic-minded approach to effect real change. Still, she’s driven by the same anger at Dewey, and can only become a true force for good when she gains a new appreciation for his struggles.

While the correlation between Dewey and Steven is obvious well before Steven straight-up says there’s a correlation (a moment that’s made easier to swallow when Dewey points out he has no context for Steven’s friend troubles), the general conflict between Nanefua and Bill(iam) is a more fascinating study on blame. At first, both candidates believe in the power of blame, with Nanefua laying all the city’s troubles on Dewey’s inaction and Dewey arguing that taking the heat is his greatest strength: in his mind, there’s not much he can actually do about the cosmic misfortunes that befall Beach City, but giving its citizens somebody to blame gives them a sense of control that’s necessary in a chaotic world. And both of these viewpoints can be found in Steven’s self-image.

Steven, like Nanefua, is quick to lay blame when anything goes wrong. But Steven, like Dewey, sees the absorption of blame as a virtue. So he loops between those two positions, looking for someone to blame at the drop of a hat and only finding himself. The ensuing guilt make him want to fix the problems of others to atone, rather than focus on the underlying cause of his own issues, and if that sounds familiar it’s because Steven Universe Future is entirely about how important it is to break this loop.

But obsessing over fixing things is also how Pearl tries to solve her argument with Garnet in the Week of Sardonyx: she focuses on finding Peridot instead of doing anything about her own actions until she has no choice but to talk things out. And, as I said back in my Friend Ship post, it evokes something Pearl once said about humans (which it turns out applies to Gems): 

“They want to blame all the world's problems on some single enemy they can fight, instead of a complex network of interrelated forces beyond anyone's control.”

When was this said? In Keep Beach City Weird, in regards to Ronaldo. The same Ronaldo who poured gas on the fire in Full Disclosure by presenting the idea that heroes are aloof and keep their friends at a distance. So in a way, the Breakup Arc can be chalked up to ignoring the good Ronaldo lesson but taking the bad Ronaldo lesson to heart. But more on him in Gemcation.

Steven’s turmoil lends a somber edge to Nanefua’s powerful change of heart, where she rejects her past choice to blame Dewey. She apologizes for her own part in pointing fingers, because blame is a lousy substitute for getting things done, and forgives him for not being perfect. She pitches the act of helping as a community effort, rather than something that any one person must do alone; she remembers that the lyrics are “we can be strong in the real way.” She’s giving Steven all of the answers well before Steven Universe Future shows how much his guilt loop will continue to plague him, but he isn’t ready to listen yet, and leaves the debate dejected instead of empowered. (Considering Jenny’s appeal to taking breaks during trying times in Joy Ride, and an adventure with Kiki about not spreading yourself too thin on behalf of others in Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service, this is the third time a Pizza woman’s fantastic advice has gone ignored by our hero.)

Even Dewey seems better off than Steven, accepting defeat by acknowledging that Nanefua would make a better mayor. And he’s right! She sets up actual services to account for alien threats, services that end up changing the universe in a way Dewey’s brand of keeping the peace never could. He may need a new job (Sadie foreshadows both his fate and her own imminent career change in one fell swoop), but there’s a sense of calm as he passes the torch after a full episode of Joel Hodgson’s hammy anxiety.

I appreciate that Dewey is allowed some points in his favor even as he flubs his way out of office. Yes, he should be more thoughtful and attentive: his vow to find a new donut shop kid when presented with news that Lars is trapped in space is even broader than Steven’s reaction to Connie’s pain, but the mayor has always ridiculous so I don’t mind at all. Yes, he should try and do something to address the concerns of his citizens beyond saying everything will be fine. But it’s not lost on the show that it isn’t easy running a town that’s a lightning rod for alien encounters, so Dewey remains sympathetic even if his ineptitude must be addressed. After all, if he’s gonna stand in for Steven in a metaphor that’s clear enough to be monologued about, it’s important to point out that it’s okay when you fail against impossible odds. Neither Dewey nor Steven can do everything on their own, no matter how much power they wield.

Steven might skip a few crucial lessons of Dewey Wins, but he at least learns one. Perhaps in an earlier season, that would be enough to mend fences with Connie. But time makes you bolder, children get older, and she’s getting older too. She’s been more than patient with being treated like an afterthought, so the moment she’s had enough is bound to be a big one. Thus, we end with a cliffhanger, one that pulls Steven into the same landslide that’s surely consuming the rest of the town after his kidnapping. The Barrigas are missing a son, and Sadie’s missing a romantic friend. Bill Dewey is no longer Mayor Dewey, and Nanefua has a whole new set of obstacles to face. Greg and the Gems have their son back, but his kidnapping was traumatic for them as well, and Connie gets that trauma on top of her stated complaints. And Steven had learned two lessons instead of one: it’s important to take your friends seriously, and timing is everything.

It’s gonna be a rough week.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I do like it, really. But Steven’s behavior takes it down a few notches, regardless of my ability to find ways to explain it. Great episodes don’t require the audience to seek ways to justify a character’s weird behavior. There’s more good than bad here, but I’d be lying if I said I loved Dewey Wins.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Lars’s Head

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

I Am My Mom

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Dewey Wins

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

(No official promo art for most of the Breakup Arc, given the way they were released, but I can’t be too mad when we get brilliance like this from ajora.)

[drunkin-kong-donic]

Zavazz: A GUIDE

HEY, so I promised I’d make a ‘tutorial’ on the new OTP that’s swept me by storm since others seem to want to get into it too. This is a helpful guide diving into Zavok x Zazz and why i like it! Two of the Deadly Six from the game Sonic Lost World. If you’re here, you are already interested in what these two murder zeets can offer. So I’m not going to get into how underrated the zeti are. That will be for another time, so I won’t get into the zeti’s lore very much in this guide because I’m assuming anyone reading this already know the basics. Anyway, LET’S INTRODUCE the two of them. I predict this is going to get kind of long, so the rest will be under the cut. I’ll be using mostly canon evidence for the ship’s dynamics in this thread. I’ll make one that incorporates more of my headcanons later down the road otherwise this would be even LONGER than it already is. Note that this OTP ain’t exactly your sunshine and daisies kind of ship. They’re both evil and sadists so keep that in mind, and if that ain’t your cup of tea there are plenty of other OTPs the sonic fandom has to offer. Now then, without further ado...

Zavok, is a 148 year old zeti and current leader of the Deadly Six, who live on the hidden world of the Lost Hex. 

and Zazz, is 127 year old zeti that presides over the Windy Hill Zone on the Lost Hex, the first area Sonic enters in the beginning of the game which makes Zazz the first boss.

So let’s get right into it shall we? If you aren’t aware of the plot in Sonic Lost World, basically Eggman invades this hidden mini-world that is floating in the atmosphere called The Lost Hex that Sonic and Tails happen to crash land on after Eggman shoots them out of the sky. Eggman has enslaved the natives there (the zeti) to do his bidding which a mystical shell called the Cacophonic Conch and set them to collect animals for his robots and destroy Sonic. 

After Sonic starts showing his presence on the Lost Hex, Eggman tells Zavok to take care of him before he can start messing with his plans.  And before Zavok can even go beyond contemplating what to do or which of the Deadly Six to send out, Zazz jumps at the chance to volunteer. Now this is where we get into the meat and bones of Zavazz. Because we see it from Zazz’s first appearance and it continues throughout the rest of the game and other media that features Zazz.  And that is that Zazz will do absolutely anything for a chance to impress Zavok. And Zavok KNOWS THIS.

Look at how Zazz’s expression changes during the course of this exchange with Zavok when he’s being complimented by his leader. Going from ‘aw yeah im ready to kick some Sonic ass’

Straight to genuine excitement like a puppy dog who did something good. 

Now, Zavok is a total bastard, and this shouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise. He’s a villain after all, and he is EVIL, as are the rest of the zeti. And Zavok is shown countless times manipulating and using the other Deadly Six (besides Master Zik) for his own gain. And for Zazz, it’s mostly using him as battle fodder to gain information on his enemies so he can better learn on how to defeat them. This is seen more than once, as Zavok boosts Zazz’s confidence by showering him in compliments and then sending him off into death traps which Zazz eagerly jumps into. (anything to please the boss) It’s in Sonic Lost World AND in Sonic Runners, a mobile app that had several Zazz Raid Events.

A quick summary of the Sonic Runners 2nd Zazz Raid event (which you can watch yourself here)  Is that Zazz is trying to get back at Sonic and his friends for defeating him during the first Raid event. And after each time you defeat him, he goes and consoles each member of the Deadly Six to get advice on ways to get more powerful, thus upping the difficulty of his boss fights every time you face him as a player. It’s actually really cool because it had cutscenes of all the Deadly Six interacting with one another! And they’re all so good. But when I was watching it, I noticed the stark difference between the way Zazz behaved around the other zeti compared to Zavok. When he was talking to Zomom, Zeena, Zor, and even Master Zik, he was his usual chompin’-at-the-bit, ready-to-let-lose-and-kill ragey self. Even with Master Zik, who was trying to get Zazz to calm the fuck down and meditate. (seriously, he ends up absorbing the power of the power rings by punching them LOL) 

I don’t want to clog up this thread with screenshots, but I’ll post the transcript below between Zavok and Zazz, in which Zavok convinces Zazz that he’d please him more to die for him in battle than to run away from the fight which Zazz eagerly agrees to after getting gassed up by Zavok. 

Zazz: "I don't believe it! I just... I just don't believe it! All these power ups, and I still can't beat that rodent!"

Zavok: “Sonic seems to be giving you some trouble, Zazz...”

Zazz: "He ain't givin' me trouble, it's just... I can't seem to beat him, that's all."

Zavok: "Really, Zazz? That little hedgehog is too much for you...?"

Zazz: "No! It's not that! It's just... Next time! I'll get him next time!" 

Zavok: "You know that we consider defeat to be unacceptable, Zazz... But there's no shame in being wiped out in battle."

Zavok: “The only shame is in running away! Hiding from reality! Refusing to fight on!"

Zazz: "Fightin' on, huh... But... It's just..."

Zavok: "I know how determined you are to win, Zazz... I wouldn't have you in the Deadly Six otherwise..."

Zavok: "Now come on... Show me. Show me your determination... Show me how much you want to win..."

Zazz: "HyaaaAAARGH! Yeah... Yeah, this is it! I'd forgotten about this feelin'!"

Zazz: "Hyaaah hah hah! That was my problem all along! I didn't want to win bad enough! Well now that's changed - now I want it really bad!"

Zazz: "I'm gonna show you what I'm really made of, Sonic! I'm gonna drag you down to the very depths of hell!"

Also note that Zazz is his most powerful after his exchange with Zavok. :) But even so, right after Zavok has the following exchange with Master Zik. Once again showing that Zavok will have no problem sending off Zazz into a fight he know’s he’s going to lose.  Zik: "Are you sure it was wise, telling him all that, Zavok? I mean, it doesn't matter how much he wants it. He's not going to beat Sonic..."

Zavok: "I am well aware of that, Master Zik. I know poor Zazz doesn't stand a chance..."

Zavok: "However, he WILL allow us to collect all sorts of useful data that may lead to us beating the rodent one day."

Zavok: "After all, the Deadly Six always win in the end, don't we..." Zik: "Yes. And success is our only source of pride... Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." 

Zavok: "Heh heh... Sonic may think he's got the better of us, but we're just biding our time. When the Deadly Six finally strike, that rat is done for!"

I can see how this seems like Zavok doesn’t give a single shit about Zazz or what happens to him, but evidence within context states that even though Zavok’s aware that Zazz can’t stand up against Sonic, he knows that he’ll be fine in the end because Zazz can handle it. After all, Zazz seems to be indifferent to pain. 

Because it’s curious to note that out of all the Deadly Six, Zazz is the only one during boss fights in Lost World that won’t run away or return to his mech once he’s knocked down. (Excluding zomom who’s cornered rather than confronted) Instead he rushes at Sonic full force, uninhibited by the fear of getting the crap kicked outta him.  However, saying this, it’s also interesting to notice that despite Zazz having no qualm to physical injury. He does indeed have a fear of disappointing Zavok and getting beat by him instead which you can see from the quote  "The boss is gonna beat me!"—Zazz after being defeated for the last time. (taken from Zazz’s wiki page) Now, there’s no evidence that Zavok actually does this. In fact, I tend to lean more towards that it’s just self-inflicted fear that Zazz has if Zavok ever finds out because that would disappoint Zavok. And that would just be the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to him. But I could be wrong, after all the zeti are extremely sadistic creatures and take pleasure in inflicting all kinds of violence. I’m just not sure if they do it to each other.

And I'm like 90% sure Zazz the only one who has dialogue referring to Zavok when Sonic is fighting him. So as scatterbrained as Zazz is, he’s still worried and has in mind about what Zavok’s and the others are gonna think. Zazz’s desperation for impressing Zavok is well... Impressive, and he actually seems to be the only zeti in the Deadly Six obsessed with the notion of it. After accidentally capturing Tails instead of Sonic, Zavok berates the others for a hot second. And I noticed that Zazz is the only one who visibly cringes from being yelled at by Zavok. (it’s very slight, but you can also notice him reel his tongue in as an added reaction)

HOWEVER, despite Zavok being a total bastard most of the time, (don’t forget! he’s evil!) I can also prove that he isn’t entirely heartless. Zavok has shown many times within the games to care about the Deadly Six above anything else. (I’d say the only thing he’d put above his fellow zeti is himself and whatever ulterior motives he has hidden up his sleeve.) The first thing he commands the Deadly Six to do after breaking free from Eggman’s control is revenge. After this, he spends the rest of the game fucking with Sonic and Eggman before ultimately trying to destroy the entire world. All because Eggman and Sonic thought they could fuck with his Deadly Six.   

Also back to Zavazz dynamics; Zazz ONLY cares about impressing Zavok. When under the command of Eggman, Eggman was openly berating their performance and how disappointed he was in them being unable to defeat Sonic, and the only thing Zazz does is yawn. So even with another ‘boss’, Zazz only cares about Zavok’s approval and is loyal only to him. 

Even this small little detail, when Zavok is standing up for himself and the other Deadly Six, Zazz is shown behind the safety of Zavok making faces at Eggman. (this screenshot is from the japanese dub since Zazz actually makes little noises during this cutscene and makes his teasing more evident)

Anyway, I really do think that Zazz is Zavok’s right hand, yes man, and is most definitely his most loyal member of the Deadly Six. (This excludes Master Zik, since he’s the former leader of the Deadly Six and is in a semi-retirement phase and kinda acts as advisor for the bunch of them) Zazz is the only one who doesn’t need to be convinced to follow orders and is even seen with Zavok in the Frozen Factory Zone when they’re gloating to Sonic and Eggman about destroying their world, 

even laughing together after Zavok steps back and allows Zazz to have some fun tormenting them too.

Zavok loves carnage and destruction, relishing in others having the same nature as well. He’s a lot more cool headed than Eggman and other villains, showing respect to those who impress him with their viciousness. This is very evident in his dialogue from Team Sonic Racing, where he frequently seems to compliment other racers when they attack him. Here are a few as examples:

“Vicious, Amy... I approve!” 

“You’re a savage competitor, Blaze.”

In Lost World he states he would respect Sonic if he didn’t hate him so much, given the frustration of trying to defeat him the entire game.

"Tenacious little hedgehog. I'd respect you if I didn't hate you so much."—Zavok taunting Sonic during Sky Road Zone 4.

Also if you defeat him in boxing in the Mario & Sonic 2016 Rio Games he actually shows the player a decent amount of respect for being stronger, welcoming the challenge.

Speaking of the Mario & Sonic Olympics and other Sonic spinoff games that feature the zeti, Zavok and Zazz are ALWAYS together. Thus proving more that Zazz is totally Zavok’s first go-to in terms of the other zeti. They are BOTH the only zeti featured in Rio 2016, the mobile app Sonic Forces Speed Battle as the Kings of Carnage, and now the new Mario & Sonic Olympics 2020 Tokyo Games.

And shown in the Mario & Sonic Olympics 2020 Tokyo trivia section, Zavok cannonly sees and trusts Zazz as a brave and powerful warrior.

This also leads me into my next point, which are Zavok’s feelings towards Zazz since we mostly just covered Zazz’s side of the sweet sweet Zavazz.

Now, Zavok is a villain, and like all villains, he’s tied with an incredible ego even if he doesn’t outwardly show it as often as someone like Eggman would. 

Zavok admires Zazz because he is always just so eager to jump at a chance to fight whenever Zavok wants him to, and Zazz just generally wanting to do anything for him. A RIDE OR DIE...LITERALLY. I think Zazz being so eager to please him DEFINITELY strokes that ego in him, even if he’s not aware. Like getting blind loyalty and determination from Zazz compared to the other Deadly’s Six general lack of interest definitely allows Zavok to take more notice in Zazz. And it's probably what would attract him the most to Zazz and why he keeps going back to him. Zazz has Zavok’s respect, and it’s so mutual it hurts. Not only that, but Zazz is the most intense zeti out of all of them in terms of ferality, wrecking violence, and havoc. It is stated that even by zeti standards, Zazz is “the meanest and most psychopathic of his entire race”,[3][6]  And Zavok is someone who revels in destruction and savagery, admiring it in general even when it isn’t from himself. So, to have the most destructive and violent of the zeti at his complete command? Zazz lives to destroy, and he’s basically Zavok’s attack dog. What wouldn’t he love about that.  I also think that Zavok finds Zazz entirely endearing, and trusts him the most out of the rest of the Deadly Six. Zavok could be rough with him if he wanted to, and he knows that Zazz would be able to handle it no problem, given their size and strength differences. And you know Zazz would love any bit of attention Zavok shows towards him.  Now, I’m starting to get into headcanon territory so I’ll end this thread here. I think I covered everything. And if not, guess I’ll have to make a part two. I didn’t even get into the comics, so we’ll see what happens. THANK YOU FOR READING THIS ALL IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, it makes me incredibly happy that ya’ll have shown interest in this sleeper of an OTP. Now go enjoy some Zavazz! 

[keeperofhounds]

Lost & Found (Chapter Eight)

Special thanks to my beta reader @rachelbethhines and special thanks to Varian66 on Discord for their part in developing this story.

We all know how the original story started. We all know how it ended too. Let’s see an alternate take if Eugene were to have been adopted rather than being alone for most of his life.

When the water rushed through the cave entrance Flynn and Rapunzel frantically tried to break out of their cave prison. Rapunzel banged the wall with her frying pan desperate for a way out, but as one would expect from such an action it was pointless. They had been through too much for it all to end like this.

Flynn was no better taking deep breaths to dive towards the pitch-black floor in an attempt to find an exit. As the water filled their space the man's attempts become more desperate as the breathing room decreases. Flynn throws himself against the stone walls trying to break down the walls when that didn’t work he tried to force his way out with his hands.

A sharp pain traveled along his palm, clutching his hand Flynn saw a deep gash along the middle of his palm. He turned to Rapunzel watching her continued banging, grasping her bag Flynn rummaged through it hoping to find the glowing vials. Only the items weren’t there, they must have been thrown along with the alchemy spheres.

The thief still held out hope. He had been through too much through his adventures as Flynn Rider, broken into impossible treasures. His life couldn’t end like this, there are still waiting for him to come home. There are still things he left unsaid. Funny that it only took him being trapped in a flooding cave and facing certain death for Flynn to realize all that.

Diving one last time, Flynn gasped, “It’s no use, I can’t see anything.”

There was a calmness inside Flynn as he absorbed the situation. This hadn’t crossed Rapunzel's mind however as she attempted her own dive. Flynn stopped her, grabbing her by the middle of her waist and pulling her up before she could properly dive. Not that he could blame her drowning was a terrible way to go.

He brushed her hair from her face, at one point the bands holding her hair had come loose, “Hey, there’s no point, it’s pitch black down there.”

Rapunzel's eyes widened at those words, it really was going to end like this. She pressed her hand against her forehead, shutting her eyes, “This all my fault, she was right I never should have done this. I’m sorry Flynn. I’m so sorry Flynn.”

Flynn could hear the utter heartbreak in her voice. It was the complete opposite of the girl he was used too, it felt wrong. Rapunzel wasn’t supposed to be crying in shame, she should be running around with her dumb frog maybe hitting ruffians with her frying pan. Although thinking about his life up until this point, Flynn knew that it was a long time coming. 

He had plenty of chances to turn his life around. It's not like he couldn’t have stopped at any time. Look at him now though being pressured into stealing a kidnapped girls crown and running from guards in his own home. Causing trouble is fun but not when there’s no safe place to go back to.

Flynn looked at the crying girl beside him. If they were going to die anyway then it was best to be honest, “Eugene.”

Rapunzel sniffed, “What?”

“My real name is Eugene. You might as well know.”

The blond smiled at the admission. This was the first time anyone trusted her with a secret. Usually, she was the one keeping secrets from her mother, hiding Pascal from her prying eyes, but being told a secret was something else.

She clutched the loose hair, “I have magic hair that glows when I sing.”

“What?” Eugene said, wondering if he had heard right.

That’s when Rapunzel was hit with a burst of inspiration, her eyes widened as the meaning of her words hit her. In hindsight she always had a way to brighten up the dark cave, “I have magic hair that glows when I sing!”

Rapunzel started to sing rushing through the lyrics as the water was reaching toward the cave ceiling. When everyone was submerged she was half worried that it was too late, that the song wouldn’t take any effect. When her hair glowed illuminating the bleek cave hope grew in Rapunzel’s heart with every strand that glew. She ignored Eugene’s shocked reaction and looked for a way out.

It is at that moment she noticed the loose strands of hair being pulled away, not unlike water being pulled down a drain. Water was leaving through that hidden space within the cave which meant not all hope was lost. Sharing a look Rapunzel and Eugene worked on moving the stones pushing and pulling with all their strength. It was hard work especially since they had such a limited supply of air in their lungs.

When the wall finally gave way after what seemed like hours the current dumped the group into a river with a surge of water. Luckily for them, the river wasn’t so deep which allowed them to regain their bearings and waddle towards the riverbank. Exhausted and wet Rapunzel and Eugene dragged themselves out of the water very much glad to have escaped a watery demise.

“We made it!” Rapunzel gasped, with Pascal gripping tightly on her shoulders.

“Her hair glows,” Eugene muttered, the shock of the recent events catching up to him.

“We’re alive!” Rapunzel rushed away from the riverbank gathering up her long golden hair. It was unfortunate that bands didn’t survive the trip, likely washed away with the currents but she was glad her hair was free at this time. She couldn’t imagine having it tied while wet.

Eugene was still trying to process what had happened, clutching his hand in pain. This didn’t just happen he had been to many places during his travels as Flynn Rider and not once had he ever seen this. Bandits sure. Kings, why not? Girls with glowing hair, not so much.

Rapunzel stared at Eugene clutching at his injured hand. He got hurt trying to save them and now that he knew the truth about her hair, there was nothing stopping her from giving him the entire truth.

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

“So you’re being strangely cryptic as you wrap your magic hair around my injured hand,” Eugene said, wincing in pain caused by the action.

After leaving the river behind the group found a clearing in the woods where they could rest the night away. Eugene with the help of Rapunzel gathered wood and kindle to make a fire to keep warm and dry of their soaked clothes. It was only after drying off that Rapunzel had instructed Eugene to give her his hand.

Rapunzel winced in sympathy at Eugene's pain, “Sorry… just don’t, don’t freak out.” She was very much hoping that this kindness would be a mistake.

The thief watched the blond close her eyes and started singing her song. The light traveled from the roots of her hair towards the tips. If anyone had told him such a thing was possible he would have laughed, only this was all real. It was no laughing matter.

When the light traveled along the hair wrapped on his hands, he felt it. He felt the warmth enveloping his injured palm like a sunbeam warm and refreshing. He felt the pain fade away as the stinging of the injury subsided. Just like magic. Eugene despite Rapunzel's words was freaking out. When the song finished he stared at his healed palm in shock narrowly screaming in shock. It was only Rapunzel’s attempt to keep him calm that stopped him from screaming loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear him.

“I’m not freaking out are you freaking out? No, I’m just very interested in your hair and the magical qualities that it possesses. How long has it been doing that exactly?”

Rapunzel let out a timid laugh, things were going better than she expected, “Forever, I guess…” Then her expression turned somber, “Mother says that when I was a baby people tried to cut it, they wanted to take it for themselves…”

The blond brushed her hair to the side showing off a strand of brown hair, very different from the rest, “but once it's cut it turns brown, loses its power… a gift like that it has to be protected. That’s why Mother never let me… that’s why I never left…”

For some reason she couldn’t voice those final words, it wasn’t so bad. Mother took great care of her bringing little pieces of the outside world to occupy her time. Who can forget Pascal too, it was great playing hide and seek all around the tower. Thinking about all that time spent in the tower makes it seem very bleak and lonely when compared to her time outside.

Eugene must have sensed her difficulty, because he finished the thought, “You never left that tower.” He stared at her with a new understanding, “And you’re still going to go back?”

“No…” Rapunzel winced, “yes,” The blond buried her face in her hands, she didn’t really know what she wanted anymore, “it’s complicated.”

The thief could only watch her feeling only pity for her. Eugene couldn’t imagine living like that only having a frog as a friend and being locked away. It wasn’t a life worth living, although he couldn’t help but voice one question. “Then why don’t you just get rid of it?”

Rapunzel could only stare at him as if he had asked the silliest question she had ever heard. Instead of letting that get to him, he continued with his thought. “Well from what you said and everything we’ve done it doesn’t look like you want to go back. If you want to stay outside then maybe it would be better if there was no more magic hair to steal?”

“What are you saying? My hair is a gift it needs to be protected.” Rapunzel said, jumping from her log clearly agitated.   “Okay, okay it’s just a thought,” Eugene said, throwing up his hands in surrender. Maybe he didn’t really understand what was going on in Rapunzel’s life and it was her decision whether or not to keep the magic hair. It’s just that what was the point of having magic hair if you’re just going to lock yourself away in a tower? It didn’t look or sound like anyone is benefitting from the arrangement. Eugene did not voice these thoughts, however not wanting to further upset Rapunzel.

Ignorant of his thoughts Rapunzel calmed down after hearing his words and sat back down on the log. There was a tense silence, this time broken by Rapunzel, “So, Eugene?”

He welcomed the distraction, “Yeah well, I’m going to spare you the details of Eugene of Old Corona.” He stole a look from Rapunzel who waited for an explanation, “There was this book, one of the first things I ever got, the Tales of Flynnigan Rider.” He said waving his hand dramatically, “I used to read it to my little brother all the time, we’d out our favorite parts and goof off. Good times.” 

Thinking about those times made Eugene’s mouth go dry. It really was so simple back then, just some kids playing around and having fun. He honestly didn’t think he was missing those times, guess he was wrong.

“Was Flynn a thief too?”

“No actually he had enough money to do whatever he wanted. He could do anything, be anything and for a kid like me it was the dream.”

Rapunzel stayed silent thinking over what Eugene had said. In a way, she could understand what he was talking about. You just couldn’t help dreaming of things. “So you have a brother?”

Eugene smiled, “Yep, he’d always follow me around calling us Team Awesome, honestly the trouble he would get into.”

The blond watched Eugene as he talked about his little brother. The way he talked about this brother was full of fondness with some exasperation. It made her wonder how Mother sounded like if she would ever talk about her to other people would she have the same tone in her voice? Rapunzel hoped so, it sounds nice having people think of you even when you’re apart.

“It sounds like you really love your family a lot,” Rapunzel stated, how can she not notice with the way Eugene was talking about his life before becoming Flynn Rider. “Why did you leave then?” Eugene stared at the fire thinking back to why he left. Ran away thinking about it now. “Things changed blonde and not for the better some things happened and I didn’t deal with it in the best of ways. I didn’t leave in the best of terms with my dad, but thinking about the past now it seems silly after everything that’s happened. I guess having a near-death experience puts a few things in perspective when it comes to family.”

“Like what?” Rapunzel asked, leaning forward. Hearing all this she could never imagine being able to get away with treating her own Mother in such a manner. 

She watched Eugene stand up looking at the fire, he had a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, “That you don’t want the last thing you ever did with the people you care about to be fighting. Maybe sometimes it’s best to just let some things go.”    

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 150

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 02 - “Full Throttle Passion, Cure Rouge!” Date watched: 2 October 2019 Original air date: 11 February 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/xjAlUBg Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Ah, man, what a good episode. We learn a bit more about Nozmi and Rin’s bond, about Coco’s past, and about the villains. Plus there’s some great character beats. It’s still kind of a dense episode like last time but since it’s not introducing everything there’s some room to enjoy the moment. Let’s start!

The Plot

Nozomi can’t wait to tell Rin about becoming a superhero but Rin thinks she’s just playing around and is a little concerned at how spacey she’s being. Nozomi continues to insist that she’s telling the truth as they wait for class when Coco, in his human form, walks in, introduces himself as Kokoda Kouji, and announces he’ll be their homeroom teacher for a while.

(Notably, his family name basically amounts to “It’s Coco”, or you can derive “Coco” from the first syllable of each name)

After class, Nozomi drags him outside, and he explains that he wanted to stay close to her for the sake of Precure. Rin overhears this and asks what’s going on, so Coco explains to both of them about his homeland which has been devastated by the Nightmare Corporation, and how he needs the Dream Collet to restore it. Rin is understandably skeptical, but after Coco accidentally transforms back into his true form in front of her, she begins to believe his story. Nozomi asks her to become a Precure with her but Rin declines.

At the same time as this is happening, we get to see Nightmare headquarters for the first time: a giant, spooky skyscraper. Girinma announces to his boss that he’s found the Dream Collet but it slipped through his hands. The boss, Bunbee, mocks him and tells him that he needs to find the Collet for the sake of their boss, Despariah. 

Back in the classroom, Komachi and Karen come looking for Nozomi to ask her what happened in the library the other day, but Rin tells them she isn’t around. Later Rin flashes back to a time when she and Nozomi were young children, and Nozomi got hurt. Her worry is that Nozomi is impulsive and will hurt herself without Rin’s help. Nozomi also recounts the event to Coco, explaining that with Rin’s help she was able to forget the pain and keep moving forward. Coco segues this into an explanation that his best friend is trapped in the Dream Collet, and they need all 5 Precures gathered to release him, as well as to gather all 55 Pinkies to make a wish and restore the Palmier Kingdom. A Pinky happens to show up right there, but Girinma has been antagonizing Rin, chasing her to where the pair are, and Rin begs Nozomi to stay out of this Precure business, it’s too dangerous and she’ll get more than just hurt. Nozomi, however, is confident now, and tells Rin to watch her as she fights for Coco’s dream. She transforms into Cure Dream and begins to fight Girinma,

At the same time, Urara is sitting on a bench, practicing her lines: “I don’t want to put my friend in danger.” At that moment, a red butterfly flies past her, and her curiosity gets the better of her, so she follows it.

On the battlefield, Girinma has turned a lamppost into a Kowaina and uses it to grab Dream while taunting Rin for being scared, as he says that this is what happens to the fearless. Rin flashes back to her childhood again, this time she and Nozomi were walking down the street at night when a large bird flew in front of them and spooked Rin. Nozomi wishes the fear away and helps Rin stand up and keep walking. Rin says that of course she’s scared of the monsters, but what she’s most afraid of is losing Nozomi, her best friend, and she wants to do anything to help her now! At that moment, the butterfly appears and lands on Rin’s wrist, transforming into another Pinky Catch and allowing Rin to transform into Cure Rouge! Rouge battles Girinma, insisting that she and Nozomi have always been together, and will be together forever, and then launches her special attack at him: Precure Rouge Fire. This takes the form of a butterfly trailing a rope of fire, and it knocks Girinma into the Kowaina, freeing Nozomi and allowing her to use her finisher to destroy it.

Girinma retreats, the girls reconcile, and Rin says being Precure was too dangerous to let Nozomi do it alone. The Pinky is still around and Coco instructs Nozomi in how to catch it in great detail.

DX Pinky Catch in stores now, only ¥2000

As the two girls and Coco celebrate their victory, we see that Urara was spying on them from behind some bushes, and she asks out loud to herself “What’s a ‘Precure’?” DUN DUN DUN.

The Analysis

Rin is my favorite character in Yes 5, which is why she’s my avatar while I work through this series. This episode really demonstrates what I like about her: she’s very down-to-earth, kind of snarky, and gives Nozomi a lot of crap, but it’s because she truly cares about her and Nozomi isn’t exactly a clear thinker. She worries about her friend, and worries that she’s overstepped herself. Rin was surprised to see how Nozomi had matured without her realizing it, because she met Coco and found something to work towards, but she was still getting into trouble, so when Rin saw the extent of the danger she was in, she couldn’t do anything but to save her friend. Remember this down the road.

This is our first proper introduction to the Nightmare Corporation in their natural setting. Unlike the ANCIENT EVIL of the last three seasons, Nightmare is just a business, and their business model includes opportunities for advancement and presumably higher pay. Instead of being destroyed, failure means termination. Their secret base isn’t a cave in an alternate dimension, it’s a conference room in an office building, and the board is made of a bunch of people with Kowaina masks on.

Since the major theme presented so far is finding and chasing your dreams, having an oppressive corporation as the villain faction makes an interesting foil and a very interesting commentary on Japanese society, where conformity is everything and corporate employees are often expected to work brutally long hours at the detriment of their health.

We get to see just how much of a dreamer Nozomi really is in this episode. As soon as Coco says he wanted to watch over her at school, she blushes and assumes he means he wants to date her, which she’s certainly amenable to. Then, in a gag that results in him falling on top of her in a compromising position, she blushes deeply before pushing him off and declaring that she has a very specific plan for her first kiss: under a Christmas tree with her boyfriend. (remember this!)

Another good gag is that Urara has a penchant for reading scripts that tie in quite nicely to whatever is happening at that time. In episode 1 she reads “You have to find your own path yourself!” right as Nozomi is running by wondering what she should do with her life, and in this episode she says “I don’t want to put my friend in danger” at precisely the moment Rin is thinking that about Nozomi. I don’t remember this gag from my previous viewings of the show so I’ll be eager to see how frequently it happens. 

Speaking of her, I really like how they keep the other cures-to-be involved in the show before they actually get to transform. Urara is usually sitting alone, practicing her lines when someone or something comes along that grabs her attention. This is how she wound up spying on Nozomi and Rin’s fight, and will play into her becoming a cure. Komachi and Karen are also fun. They were baffled by the magically restoring library the previous day and want to ask Nozomi for an explanation. Their slightly different reactions betray their personalities: Karen is concerned about the wellbeing of the school and students with unexplained phenomena occurring, while Komachi views supernatural events as an exciting change of pace. Karen calls her “curious” for that, but Komachi says she prefers the term “inquisitive”. She’s similar to Honoka in that regard. Anyway, since it’s still a few episodes before either of them gets to transform, I’m glad that the writers thought up a natural way to have them around and incorporate them into the story, which makes it more natural when they do finally get to go. There have been shows that basically introduced the new cure the same week as her first transformation, not counting pinks for obvious reasons, so going back and seeing a show where they laid the groundwork is retroactively refreshing.

It’s interesting to me that despite being nearly 20 years old the first time I watched Yes 5, I didn’t really recognize how blatant the product placement was. The Dream Collet is clearly a toy, although unlike some artifacts from the previous seasons it at least looks like it could reasonably be a sacred artifact from a mystical civilization. The Pinky Catches are fairly small toys compared to the phones of the last three shows, being essentially large digital watches, or wrist-mounted v-pets. I always thought the fact that you have to open the glass cover to transform was a little weird but it’s not the end of the world. What really gets me, in the sense of “how did I not realize they were peddling toys”, is the bit at the end where Coco gives Nozomi a very detailed lesson on how to catch a Pinky, which for all intents and purposes is just opening the lid to the watch, shaking her wrist around, and then closing the lid. I assume there were some interactive elements in the toy where you could play with the captured Pinky but I don’t really know. Within the show, opening the lid gives Coco an instrument to lure the Pinky over to the Precure catching it. For Nozomi, this episode, it’s a bell. I don’t remember if it changes by cure or by Pinky or what so we’ll find out together.

Catching 55 Pinkies constitutes our Macguffin quest of the year, but since there are so many of them, each individual one isn’t a major event like the Prism Stones, Heartiels, or getting seven Miracle Drops and I’m pretty sure a lot of them get caught offscreen after a while. So far they’ve done a good job of not making it seem like the Pinkies are the be-all end-all of the plot.

I would be remiss if I neglected to mention that Rin’s seiyuu is Takeuchi Junko, who notably voiced Kenta in Splash Star immediately preceding this, but is probably most notable for being the voice of Naruto. Rin’s voice is a little higher pitched than in those other roles, which I assume is closer to Takeuchi’s natural speaking voice.

Additionally, Girinma is voiced by legendary seiyuu Nobuyuki Hiyama. His list of credits is extraordinarily long but he’s recognizable for his high-pitched voice. Notable other parts include Freezen in the second Max Heart film, Viral in Gurren Lagann, and Ikkaku in Bleach. Something I like about Girinma that I almost forgot to discuss is how he sounds very sly and confident when speaking to the girls, but pitiful when facing Bunbee. He stammers a lot in the office because he’s afraid. Also, his name is derived from kamakiri, the word for a praying mantis. Now you know!

Also there was a funny Kamen Rider reference near the beginning and that pleases my toku-loving heart.

I do want to talk about the music, and the clothes: both school uniforms and Precure outfits, but I will save those for a later post. Next time, things are going to get lively and lemon-scented as Urara takes center stage. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 kettei!

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

In Sickness and In Hell - Chapter 5

Well here it is. The final chapter to this wee fic. Thank you all for your patience with this. I'm so glad I managed to get this finished. 

Special thanks to @lurkingwhump for your encouragement and friendship these last few months.

I hope you enjoy. All mistakes belong to my 7 week old baby. He has eaten my brain 😂

It had already been a couple of hours since Jane had been taken to surgery and Kurt couldn't stop looking at his watch. He had been ushered into the public lounge to wait, and he was finding himself slowly losing his reserve. 

It could be any minute that someone would come and update him, and he couldn't help glancing towards the door. He frowned, tapping his finger on his knee.

He sighed. 

No news was good news. 

Right?

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An hour later, Kurt looked up to see Doctor Southon standing in the doorway. Kurt jumped to his feet, approaching the doctor.

"How is she?" he almost shouted.

"She's in recovery." the doctor replied, gesturing for Kurt to sit back down. The doctor sat beside him. "The surgery went well. We were able to clear the blocked duct, as well as remove her gallbladder without any complications."

Kurt hung his head in relief.

"Thank God." he murmured. "When can I see her?" 

"She has had a bit of trouble coming out of the anesthetic, so we have kept her in recovery a little longer than expected." Doctor Southon replied.

“What do you mean trouble?" Kurt asked, panic starting to set in a little. If he was being rational, he would have been able to see that the doctor didn't seem overly concerned, so he shouldn't worry, but the rational part of his brain seemed to have shut off since she had been admitted. 

"She has just had a bit more trouble staying conscious than we would like, but-" the doctor said, raising a hand when he saw Kurt was about to interrupt. "- I believe that is to be expected. Her body has been under an incredible amount of stress from this illness. She is exhausted."

Kurt nodded at that. That made sense. 

"We are just keeping her in recovery a bit longer so we can monitor her a bit more closely. We've had to give her oxygen as her sp02 kept dropping. Again that is fairly normal. Could be the medication, could be the exhaustion. For now we are just keeping an eye on her."

Kurt nodded again. 

"Thank you doc." he said, shaking his hand.

Doctor Southon smiled.

"Someone will notify you when she's back in her room." he said, before leaving Kurt alone again. 

Kurt hung his head. He had hoped that after the doctor came to update him, he would be able to go and see his wife. His patience was starting to wear thin. 

Over the next hour or so, Kurt filled his time updating the team on Jane's condition. They were all being incredibly supportive, each offering to come and sit with him until he was allowed to see her. 

He almost said yes, but selfishly decided against it. When she did wake, he wanted her all to himself. 

Finally, just as Kurt was about to lose his cool completely, a nurse came by, telling him Jane was back in her room. He had to take a deep breath and compose himself, otherwise he would have sprinted down the corridor.

He got to Jane's room and paused, looking at her from the doorway. She looked small in the bed, especially since they had bundled her up in layers of warmed blankets. The oxygen cannula was still in her nose and her face was incredibly pale. All in all she looked pretty rough, but for the first time in a couple of days, her face wasn't pinched in pain. 

She opened her eyes groggily, catching Kurt's eye.

"Hey." she whispered softly.

"Hey yourself." he replied, offering her a small smile. He strode towards her, leaning over to softly give her a kiss on the temple. "How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a seat beside her bed and taking her hand in his own.

"I'm ok." she breathed. "Tired." She sighed, closing her eyes again. 

Kurt reached out, brushing her hair off her forehead.

"Sleep." he whispered gently. "You'll feel better when you wake."

Jane complied, nodding off almost instantly. Kurt smiled softly, kissing the back of her hand. 

"Thank you for being ok." he whispered, before settling back into the chair to keep vigil over his sleeping wife. 

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Jane's health progressed well from there. Apart from some initial nausea, she was right on track with her recovery. Her post op pain was quite bad, but as she had explained to Kurt, it was nothing compared to the Pancreatitis itself. She was due to be released from the hospital that day, and she couldn't wait. She was starting to feel claustrophobic within the hospital walls. 

Kurt had already helped her into a pair of comfortable sweats and one of his hoodies, and she was sitting on her bed, waiting for her discharge papers.

She huffed, when yet another nurse walked past her room. 

Kurt chuckled at her impatience.

She frowned at him. "What?"

"Nothing." he said grinning. At her annoyed look he continued. "I'm just so happy to have my impatient, stubborn wife back." 

Jane rolled her eyes.

"How long does it take to bring me back some paperwork?" she grumbled. 

He didn't answer, opting to just reach out and kiss the back of her hand. 

The nurse chose that moment to enter the room, pushing a wheelchair up to Jane's bed. 

Jane sighed. Darn hospital policy. Not that she would have been able to walk that far anyway. She allowed Kurt to help her off the bed, into the waiting chair. She screwed up her face, clutching at her belly as the movement pulled her stitches. 

"You ok?" Kurt asked, concern evident in his voice.

Jane nodded, breathing through her nose.

The nurse handed over the folder containing her paperwork to Jane.

"Your script for antibiotics and painkillers is in there as well." the nurse explained. "They've also given you a script for anti nausea pills should you need them."

Jane nodded her thanks.

"Any problems, come straight back."

"Don't you worry about that." Kurt replied, giving Jane a pointed look. She replied by rolling her eyes at him again. 

"Take care." the nurse said, giving them a genuine smile. 

"Thank you." Jane said, her voice already husky from the exhaustion of getting dressed. She would be lying if she said she wasn't ready to crawl into her own bed and sleep for a week. 

"Ready?" Kurt asked, grabbing her bag.

"Ready." Jane replied. Kurt moved behind her, pushing her towards their freedom. 

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Jane fell asleep on the way home. Kurt sighed, not wanting to wake her, but also wanting to get her to bed where he knew she would rest more soundly. He reached over and stroked her cheek gently.

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

"Sorry baby." he said softly. "We're home."

She gave him a small relieved smile. 

"Home." she repeated, savoring the feeling.

"Let's get you upstairs." Kurt suggested, turning the ignition off. He got out of the car, walking round to help her. She winced at the movement, getting out of the car slowly, before leaning heavily on him. 

By the time they reached their apartment, she was exhausted, a light sweat forming on her brow.

Kurt directed her to the couch, helping her sit back into the pillows. He grabbed the throw off the back of the couch, draping it over her.

"You hungry?" he asked, moving towards the kitchen.

Jane shook her head softly. Her appetite hadn't come back yet. They had her on a light liquid diet for the time being. She was allowed to move onto bland food later in the week. 

"Ok." Kurt replied softly. He knew not to push her with her eating. The last time had resulted in her vomiting up everything she had managed to consume. "I'm gonna go grab the bags and your shower chair." He said grabbing his keys. "You need anything?"

Jane smiled softly and shook her head.

"Kurt you'll be gone less than five minutes. I'll be ok."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, before thinking better of it and walking out of the apartment.

Jane stared after him, still smiling.

As promised he had barely left her side while she was in the hospital. He had been so worried about her, Jane had had to call Reade to force Kurt to go home and at least have a shower and a decent meal. 

She would be lying if she said she wasn't completely and utterly thankful that he had stayed with her. She had been so scared being trapped in the hospital again. The four walls seemed to close around her when Kurt wasn't there.

Her postoperative pain had been intense, even with high doses of painkillers. Kurt had stayed beside her all night, holding her hand and whispering soothing words of comfort in her ear.

She relaxed back into the pillows, closing her eyes and thinking about how lucky she was to have him. 

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Kurt arrived back in the apartment to find Jane dozing. He put the bags in the bedroom and put the stool in the shower. 

He moved back into the living room, kissing her softly on the forehead. 

She opened her eyes slowly, sighing in content. 

"You feel like a shower?" he asked, sitting on the coffee table beside her. He watched her eyes light up at the idea, making him chuckle softly. "Why don't I go and turn it on for you?"

She smiled.

"Thank you." she said gratefully.

Kurt made his way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and finding her a clean towel. When the water was hot, he moved back into the lounge to help her to the bathroom, sitting her on the closed toilet lid.

"You need any help?" he asked, checking the temperature of the shower.

She shook her head.

"I'll be ok."

"Ok." he replied kissing her on the forehead. "Call out if you need me."

"I will." she replied softly. Truth be told, as grateful as she was that Kurt hadn't left her side, she was looking forward to having a moment alone. Even if that was just to have a shower. She slowly needed to be able to gain her independence back.

She took a breath, preparing herself for the onslaught of pain that came with removing her shirt. Luckily Kurt's hoodies were too big for her, so it was easy enough to slip her left arm out and pull it over her head without having to raise her right arm. 

Once undressed, she got up weakly from the toilet and made her way to the shower, sinking onto the stool slowly. She groaned in relief as the hot water started soaking into her tired muscles. She sat there under the spray for a few minutes, before busying herself washing away the smell of hospital and sickness from her body. 

Once thoroughly cleaned, she turned the shower off and went to stand, when a wave of dizziness assaulted her. She sat back down, feeling nauseous and woozy.

"Kurt?" she called weakly.

He was there in a moment, almost as if he was standing outside the bathroom door, waiting incase she needed him.

"What happened? Are you ok?" he asked, taking in her pale complexion.

"I'm ok. Just dizzy." she replied, squeezing her eyes shut. "I think I may have had the water a little too hot." 

"Ok, let's just take it slow." he suggested, holding his hand out. She accepted his hand and slowly stood back up, leaning against him as she swayed. "Come on, let's get you dressed and into bed."

She nodded in agreement, sitting back on the toilet lid as he grabbed her towel. 

Once she was dried and redressed in a light shirt and sleeping shorts, she allowed Kurt to help her down the hallway to their bedroom. 

She almost cried in relief as she sunk down into her own pillow. She had missed the comfort of her own bed so much. She felt her eyes grow heavy and closed them, nuzzling down into the comforter.

She heard Kurt move away, only to return moments later.

"Better take your painkillers before you sleep."

Jane almost groaned in annoyance. She had just managed to get comfortable and now she had to move. But she knew if she didn't take her medication now, she would pay for it later.

She sat up gingerly, before taking the glass of water Kurt was offering, and her pills. She handed the water back to Kurt and slowly lay back down.

"Get some rest baby." Kurt whispered gently, kissing her softly on the temple.

"Stay." she mumbled, sleep nearly upon her.

Kurt complied, moving to his side of the bed and laying down on top of the comforter. He moved in behind her wrapping her securely in his arms and started stroking the side of her head. He listened to her breathing even out before he relaxed into his own pillow beside her, still hugging her from behind. 

For the first time in over a week he felt like he could breathe again. She had made it through yet another life threatening ordeal. She had a long road to complete recovery, but as usual he would be there every step of the way.

Kurt let his own body settle, slowly drifting off with her safely in his arms. Finally they were both able to get some much needed, and much deserved rest. 

[taki118]

Why theres no diffference in Awakenings Anders & DA2 Anders

A common thing I see in DA fandom when it comes to Anders is

”I liked him in Awakenings but in DA2 he’s just an ass” ”I don’t get how awakenings Anders could possibly be DA2 Anders” ”They may as well have had a new character this isn’t my Anders” ”They took all his charm away he’s so preachy”

And that could not be further from the truth. The two Anders are the same character in fact I’ve made a little quiz showing just how similar their dialogue is, check it out Anders quiz

But maybe you still don’t believe me or maybe you think that’s not enough. Well let’s get through this point by point, starting with

Anders has always been an ass

And not always the fun I’m gonna rib you cause I love you type. He straight up says to an elf Warden that sure elves have it bad but not as bad as mages. (A sentiment he keeps into DA2) Anders has always had trouble empathizing with plights that he had not experienced himself. And even if he does, he always frames it in such a way that comes off like whatever he experienced was worse.

Examples are

- He can’t understand why Merrill and Velanna care more about the plight of elves rather than mages as they are mages themselves

- He equates being a slave as being as bad a being a mage (or sometimes less awful than being a mage)

- He compares Nathaniel’s family drama to being like a mage in a way that belittles his pain

And honestly, it’s this poor personality trait of his that makes me think “this is why no one listens to you” cause let’s be real, if someone came up to you and tried to sway you to their cause by telling you that your pain and experiences are NOTHING compared to theirs you probably would be so offended you’d leave.

There is a very simple reason for this of course Anders experienced a great deal of abuse at the hands of Templar’s for decades. From psychical pain to mental torture and it’s heavily implied he experienced sexual abuse (either on him or he bore witness to it being inflicted on others). Being trapped within the circle so long Anders simply could not see how people with the ability to leave could possibly have it worse than a mage. Or even how people could ignore what was to him obvious injustice.

This frustration of his pain not being recognized only grew as the years went on for Anders so of course by DA2 his callousness in his words would increase.

Anders always hated the Templar’s & the Chantry

I don’t think anyone would argue with me that Anders didn’t hate Templar’s in awakenings only that they didn’t think him capable of you know blowing up a religious institution and sending a city into civil war. (Aside from that being the very reason a writer would do that) There is a reason Anders shifts from “just looking out for myself” to “wanting a better lot for all mages.” And that’s Justice. Anders says as much himself in DA2

“When I see Templar’s now, things that have always outraged me, but could never do anything about...he comes out. “

See how he speaks in the past tense here, he’s confirming what Justice had always felt of him in Awakenings while they were separate, that Anders always wanted to help other mages he just hadn’t the power to do so.

Now not only does Anders feel he has the power to not fear Templar’s he’s also got this very loud voice in his head telling him his actions are justified, that his thinking is right and everything else is a distraction.

So once more it makes logical sense that someone who once only wanted to avoid Templar’s would now be trying to lead a revolution. Justice not only gave him the power to feel he could but amplified his own drive, that was always there, to do so.

Anders is just not funny or charming anymore? Not really

He is still plenty funny in DA2 at least until Act 3 where he’s just done with Kirkwall’s politics.

But here’s the thing about Anders humor and charisma in awakenings it’s a front. It’s a way for him to avoid talking about things, to avoid thinking about things.

What are you talking about injustices? Haha I’m just a witty apostate trying to live my life no need to worry about me

What abuses at the hands of Templar’s? Nah I’ll just poke fun at them and hit on the hot one they don’t mean anything to me.

I mean when you really press him as the warden this front of apostate who’s above it all crumbles away and he sounds just like the Anders we come to find in DA2. It’s for this reason I believe, Justice or not, Anders would always have grown into this person. He’s simply older and better able to contextualize what happened to him and what that meant to him.

The sense of humor and charm is still there he’s just dropped the front, he’s stopped using these traits as a defense mechanism. He’s done pretending to be ok.

And when you get down to it, taking out Justice from the equation, that’s all that’s really changed for Anders. He’s simply done, he’s done pretending he doesn’t care, he’s done acting like he’s ok, he’s done watching these things happen, he’s done being ignored.

The seeds of the man Anders would become are planted in Awakenings and the hints of the man he was can still be seen in DA2.

To say it doesn’t make sense that witty, funny, charming Awakenings Anders couldn’t possibly become DA2 Anders is ignoring the fact it’s always been there just below the surface.

[violetsmoak]

Appetence [9/?]

AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #cemetery #haunting

First Chapter

Author’s Note: More dialogue from Under the Red Hood, just moved around a bit and tweaked to suit the situation. 

________________________________________________________________

Bruce stares at him in silence for a long while and then seems to shake himself.

“No,” he says at last. “It…can't be.”

But his tone is less certain.

“Can be and is. ‘There are more things in heaven and earth’ and all that jazz,” Jason quips. “But I know you. I can’t just talk about collecting first editions with Alfred or going to races with you or Dick teaching me to train surf. Someone could be using telepathy to lift that from your mind, right? Nah, you’ll be wantin’ proof, so here—”

“Here.” Jason crouches and takes off his gloves, picking up the discarded Batarang from earlier and whips it expertly at Bruce, who catches it without anything changing in the exposed part of his face. “My blood’s already on that. Fingerprints, too. Maybe even some skin-cells if you cut me deep enough.”

“It won’t make me believe.”

But there’s doubt in his voice, and he pockets the blade anyhow.

“Yeah, it will,” Jason replies. “You’re Mr. Logic and Science. It’ll tell you exactly who I am—or rather, it’ll confirm exactly who you know I am.”

Bruce’s jaw works furiously.

“How…how did this happen to you?” he asks softly, cautious. “Were you—was there a Lazarus Pit involved?”

“Not as far as I know. If there was, don’t you think your baby mama would have taunted you with it by now? She always liked to fuck with your head.”

Bruce tenses.

“Oh, yeah, I got the full 411 on what’s been happening since I 'ran down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible',” Jason says irreverently. “Mazel tov, but the way. Is it too late to send an arrangement of blue balloons?”

No response.

“What’s that bring the total up to now, anyway? Three? Four? When exactly did collecting orphans become a compulsion for you, chum?”

Jason sneers that last word, and yet something about it seems to physically jar both man and Bat. The cowl is off then as if somehow, Bruce can no longer trust the lenses of the cowl and needs his own eyes.

Jason’s irritation wavers for a moment, replaced with a lump in his throat as his own gaze roves over the man’s face with a hunger of their own, tempered by disbelief.

Bruce looks older. He could still pass for at least a decade younger than his actual age, but the look in his eyes speaks of a lifetime of fighting. There are wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, grey flecks around his temples and a few more scars than Jason remembers. Skin stretches just a little bit thinner over his cheekbones and jaw.

His eyes are sharp as ever, cataloging every detail of Jason, no doubt comparing it to his last memories of the boy he was.

The boy that’s dead.

Bruce tentatively moves forward, and Jason’s instinct is to take a step backward, to avoid letting the other man into his personal space. He has no interest in Round Two or the prick of a needle leading to him waking up in a cell in the cave hours from now.

But then his eye catches on two figures watching the proceedings from several feet away, and he’s so surprised he forgets about Bruce for a minute.

Martha Wayne is polished and put-together, the only indication of anything amiss being the broken string of pearls hanging from her neck and the blossoming red stain at her breast. Thomas Wayne looks exactly like every picture Jason’s ever seen of him, Bruce’s spitting image but somehow…lighter. The wound that killed him is hidden beneath a thick overcoat, but trails of blood dripping down to stain his white gloves is telling.

For a moment they are a perfect portrait, and then in another blink, they flicker, clutching at their wounds. In another, they lie on the ground gasping and reaching for each other, trapped in their death echo. And then they’re back to standing, watching Bruce with pained expressions on their faces.

Guess the family plot’s a bit closer than I thought it was.

Any further ruminations on their semi-invisible audience vanish when arms encircle Jason, and it should be a reflex to pull away, to knock the grasp away. Self-preservation and all.

And yet, he knows these arms, knows the smell of cologne and the specific brand of Kevlar in a way that bypasses every bit of training he’s ever had, which causes him to remain perfectly still as Batman—Bruce, Dad—holds him tightly to him.

For whatever reason—an impossibly rare break from his usual paranoia, perhaps—Bruce doesn’t dose him with any kind of sedative or go for a nerve-strike.

He just…

Holds him.

Jason’s back is beginning to ache from how straight he’s trying to keep it, and at last, he can’t take it anymore and pulls back. Puts several steps between them so that he can regain his equilibrium.

Bruce takes a step back as well as if remembering himself. He lapses back into his tense but alert stance, but his eyes are suspiciously bright in the moonlight.

“When?” he asks eventually.

“By all accounts about six months after I died.” Bruce’s expression becomes calculating, even as he continues to study Jason. “Wouldn’t happen to have any idea how that could’ve happened, could you? John and I never figured it out, and you have all those fun League resources.”

Bruce recoils almost imperceptibly.  

“John?” he repeats, eyes flicking over Jason again. His nose twitches and then his brows draw together. “Constantine.”

It should not surprise Jason that Bruce makes the connection so fast.

“Got it in one.”

“He would have said. He’d have contacted me—”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Jason interrupts. “Because he didn’t know. Not until weeks after he found me. And by the time I remembered everything, I didn’t want him to. Say what you want about his morals, he stays out of other people’s personal business.”

Bruce ignores the dig.

“Why?” Bruce croaks instead. “Why didn’t you come home?”

“Didn’t think there was anything for me to come back to. Figured you’d be happier with me gone. I mean, you hauled a new kid into the thick of it within like three months, so obviously I wasn’t that hard to replace.”

“It didn’t happen that way.”

“I owe you a broken jaw for that, by the way. After I died, no one else should’ve worn that cape.”

“And now?” Bruce challenges. “All this time, you’ve been alive. You’ve avoided Gotham. But you choose to return now. And do things like this.” He gestures at the graveyard. “This crime—violating others’ final resting places—human remains, for god’s sake, Jason! If you wanted to get my attention, there are easier ways!”

Jason’s jaw drops a bit, and he feels his hackles rise.

And there it is.

“Are you serious right now?” he snaps. “You think this is about you?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow as if to say it’s exactly what he thinks, and Jason bursts out laughing. There’s a bitter edge to it, and the older man flinches for some reason.

“Damn, I knew you were conceited, but this just takes the cake,” Jason snorts. “Contrary to popular belief, not everything that goes on in Gotham is about Bruce Wayne. Or Batman.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“Bullshit! This is my fucking job,” Jason snaps.

“Desecrating graves.”

“Helping people move on. Stopping people from getting hurt. Put that thinking cap of yours on, ‘detective’. Why the hell do you think Constantine took me in in the first place?”

The way his eyes narrow at the challenge, considering their surroundings and the gear Jason is wearing, the tools and the specifics of what he was doing and what he’s just said. And then understanding flashes across his face.

“You’re an occultist.

“Ding-ding-ding! Right again. Guess dying and coming back from the dead leaves a guy predisposed to certain, huh? Unless I’ve always been this way and just never knew. I doubt it, though. You’ve analyzed my blood a hundred times and you never mentioned any metahuman or magic genes. And I never saw dead people before I was, you know, dead.”

That causes a wince.

“You know I was in Arkham, for a while?” Jason asks conversationally. “For like half a year. Bet you visited the place a lot, considering the revolving door of nutcases. You were probably standing on the same floor as me a dozen times and didn’t even know it.”

Bruce tries to disguise the pain that flashes across his face at that direct hit, but Jason sees it nonetheless.

“The mentally ill are of no interest to Batman, though, right? Not unless they’re criminally insane.”

“I know…I know I failed you, Jason…I tried to save you. Whatever it is that’s happening to you now—I’ll keep trying to save you, and if I had had even an inkling that you were still alive—”

“Is that what you think I’m pissed off about?” Jason demands. “You letting me die? I don’t know what clouds your judgment worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. I forgave you for not saving me, Bruce—forgave you years before I forgave my own flesh and blood. But why…why…” His voice breaks a little here, “the hell is that pasty-faced pile of human excrement still alive?”

Bruce’s expression becomes like stone. “Joker.”

“The Joker. Yeah, B, him. If you’d just killed the fucker years ago—whether anything happened to me or not—you know what hell you would have saved the world?” Jason snaps. “But no. Punching that piece of shit’s ticket’s just one of a long list of sane acts you still refuse to commit.”

“I can’t cross that line,” Bruce says tightly.

“But I can,” Jason says. “And I will. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last five years, death comes to those who deserve death, B. It’s probably why I clocked out early. I wasn’t exactly the golden boy like Dickiebird, was I?”

“Jason, no—”

“But that’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it. Someone somewhere must have even decided I deserved a chance to make up for it because here I am.” Jason spreads his arms wide. “And I’m going to make up for it. Lot of dead people out there that need to be avenged. And a lot of monsters out there, standing in the way.”

“Monsters like Felipe Garzonas?” Bruce challenges.

The name hastens memories of a woman’s lifeless body hanging from a ceiling and a man’s sneering, triumphant smile.

Jason clenches his fists.

“If they get in my way, sure,” he replies. “In another life, maybe I’d even make it my mission. To take out the scum you refuse to. But these days, I’m on a different playing field, and the stakes a higher than some rapist that fell out a window.”

“If you’re saying you intend to go after the Joker—I can’t let you.”

Jason almost chokes in rage and disbelief. “Why the hell not?!”

“Because I won’t have my son become a murderer for him.”

“Didn’t you hear, old man? Your son died a long time ago. I’m a completely different person now, and you’re a few years too late. I’ve killed a lot of people and slept like a baby right after because those fuckers deserved it.” Jason clenches his fists, recalling the torn and mutilated bodies murderers that would never be caught by traditional means—legal or vigilante. Capping monsters like that was a civic duty. “Lot of people don’t get any kind of justice once they’re gone, and I’m it.”

“Jason, that’s not your call to make.”

“Says the man who dresses up as a bat and fights crime,” Jason shoots back. “All of your adult life, you’ve fought to save Gotham. Save her from herself, but you never ever understood her. You’ve never seen what I see now.” He casts his eyes around the graveyard, at the torn remnants of humanity in their various stages of self-torture. “She’s evil. Poisoned by the dead that clog her foundations—that have been piling up here since the first nutjob spilled blood in her earth. You have to fight her where she lives, B, and it’s not just the rooftops at night.”

“That might be so,” Bruce allows. “But it’s one thing to seek justice on behalf of the dead…if that’s what you intend to do. But going after a human being, even one as depraved as the Joker—"

“How can you still call him a human being?! Even ignoring what he’s done in the past—blindly, stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he’s filled—” He points toward the various specters in the distance, who Bruce can’t see but who scream and cry and laugh hysterically through the smiling rictus that is the Joker’s signature, to the dying echoes of Thomas and Martha Wayne, “—the thousands who have suffered, the friends he’s crippled—” He remembers Tim’s expression and makes an educated guess, “—the family he’s tortured.”

Bruce’s wince is the confirmation he needs.

“I thought that him killing me, that I’d be the last person you ever let him hurt,” Jason admits in a soft voice, his rage quieting behind pain and sadness. “If it had been you he beat to a bloody mess...if it had been you that he left in agony...if he had taken you—I would have done nothing but search the planet for the pathetic pile of evil, death-worshipping garbage and sent him off to hell!"

“You don’t understand…I don’t think you’ve ever understood…”

“What? Your moral code just won’t allow for it? It’s too hard to cross that line?”

“It’d be too damned easy!” Bruce snaps.

There would be a ringing silence between them if not for the ghostly moans in the night.

“All I have ever wanted to do is kill him,” Bruce continues, eyes blazing. “For years, a day hasn’t gone by where I haven’t imagined taking him and spending an entire month putting him through the most horrendous, mind-boggling forms of torture. All of it building to an end with him broken, butchered and maimed…pleading—screaming—in the worse kind of agony as he careens into a monstrous death.” He grows quieter here. “I want him dead—maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down into that place, I’ll never come back.”

Jason takes several seconds to parse all of that, examining the reasons and justifications that are so different than what he expected, before registering the problem with that.

“Why?”

Bruce blinks. “What?”

“You wouldn’t feel guilty killing a cockroach, or wiping out a bacterium that could destroy millions,” Jason points out. “And that’s what he is. All he exists to do is destroy. It’s not like Cobblepot or Crane or Dent or Nygma. Much as I always thought they all deserve the death penalty, there’s something in them that at least resembles having been human at some point. The Joker has never—will never—be human. You can’t judge filth like that by human standards.”

But he can already see by the obstinate set of Bruce’s jaw that he is unmoved by this argument.

“I can’t, Jason,” he says. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“Then don’t. Just don’t get in the way when someone else tries to do it.”

“Someone being you? I can’t let that happen either. I won’t let you sully yourself over the likes of him—”

“He killed me!” Jason roars. “I was sullied the second he brought out the crowbar. If anyone on this planet has a right—has a duty—to be the chlorine in that maniac’s gene pool, it’s me!”

“Jason—!”

“He took me away from you!”

The words echo, not as sharp or reprimanding as Jason meant, but laced with a vulnerability he hasn’t allowed himself to show since before he died.

He needs to take a few moments to breathe, to gulp down the sob that’s threatening the back of his throat, hysterical and pained and scared the way he hasn’t been in years.

“He took everything,” Jason concludes. “He took my life. He took my future. But worst of all, he took me from the first person I ever really believed gave a shit about me. And that…that’s just me. How many other kids got to die gasping for breath, waiting for their fathers to rescue them?”

And for a split second, Bruce’s entire façade shatters and he looks—lost. Frightened. Agonized.

“Jason…” he says after a beat, more broken than Batman has any right to sound. “Just…come home. We’ll figure this out—all of it. Together.”

And Jason…he’s tempted.

But he came back to Gotham for a reason, and it wasn’t to mend relations with anyone.

“And when the Joker breaks out again?” Jason asks quietly. “When he hunts you and everyone you care about down and puts you through another round of mental and physical torture? When you have to bury another kid? Or two? Or Alfred? Will 'figure this out together' mean you’ll step aside and do what needs to be done? Or are you just going to cart him back to Arkham?”

There is nothing but silence at this, but Jason already has his answer.

He exhales, shoulders slumping a bit.

As tempting as it would be to fall back into what he lost—as tempting as it would be to be Jason Todd-Wayne again in some way—this is something he can’t compromise on.

And he learned from the best that the only way to keep from compromising is to establish clear, immovable boundaries. And if that’s impossible, then burn down whatever bridges might traverse them.

“The manor was never my home, any more than it was yours,” Jason says dully at last. “Those streets you patrol every night, the people on them—people the Joker’s going to keep killing—that’s home. And if you’re not going to defend it, I am.”

Bruce appears to hear what he isn’t saying, and that seems to take the fight out of him. As if he understands that no amount of arguing is going to change either of their stances today, if ever. Instead, he straightens his back and looms into his most imposing Batman stance and pulls the cowl back on.

“I won’t tolerate criminal conspiracy in Gotham. Occult or otherwise.”

“Tough shit,” Jason shoots back. “This is my town. Probably more than it’s yours since I actually came up on these streets.”

“If that’s how you want it to be, that’s your choice. But if you cause any disturbances of that nature—if I catch you desecrating any more graves—if you go anywhere near the Joker—I will bring you in.”

“That threat would be more effective if I couldn’t rattle off the names of every cape in town, and you know it.”

“I never said you’d be going to jail.”

And Jason knows that this will lead to another fight, one he’ll no doubt lose—

Except there’s an explosion in the distance.

They both look up reflexively, watching Gotham’s skyline illuminate with electric blue light.

“Looks like the office is calling,” Jason points out. “My money’s on Freeze. He never did like the summertime.”

Bruce’s jaw clenches, eyes flitting from Jason to the city.

“Can’t let the bad guys get away, old man. Mission before family, right? The way it’s always been?” He turns, keeping Bruce in his periphery. “I’m going home. I’d give you the address, but I’m pretty sure you’ll find it on your own anyway. Wouldn’t want to give you the impression that you’re welcome there.”

“Jason…”

“Maybe we can do this again sometime like normal human beings,” he continues. “But I swear to everything hellish and holy, if you drag me back to the cave for interrogation or lock me up, I will get out. And I will make the rest of your life a living hell. Until then, fuck off. You don’t get to talk to me unless you decide to do something about the clown.”

He turns away, casting a frown at Thomas and Martha Wayne’s shades, wondering if he should say anything to Bruce about them just now.

He decides against it.

It’s a whole other rabbit hole to get pulled down.

Instead, he tips a salute as he walks away. “Say hello to the pretty bird for me. Kid keeps his word. Didn’t think that was possible for anyone in the Family.”

⁂⁂⁂

To Be Continued

________________________________________________________________

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Sapphire Road: Chapter 1 [Nerdshipping]

Story Summary: After being captured by the Shadow Magus, Seto and Hermione end up trapped in the Shadow Realm, where the only way out is to beat the Dark Priest’s mysterious Penalty Game. 

Notes: This is a side off-shoot of a future point in OLSSM. This is not OLSSM canon.

//Bold + Italic// [assuming tumblr doesn’t wreck the formatting]: Shadow Magus dialogue.

~~*~~

The plan was simple: head deep into the mysterious tomb holding the final broken piece of the sword housing the Shadow Magus’s soul before said Shadow Magus or the Death Eaters could get hold of it.

Hermione and Yugi, thanks to their course in Ancient Runes, and studying up after the year at Hogwarts ended, were able to read the cleaner hieroglyphs etched onto the walls, with Priest Set able to be a fallback for the trickier translations. The Millennium Ring served as their compass, and the dark spirit within lent his knowledge in tomb raiding in avoiding the manmade traps scattered about.

Find the fragment, get the hell out, and destroy it before the Shadow could regain its full powers. Simple.

What they didn’t expect was the absolute labyrinth beneath the desert surface. The initial stairway down into the tomb led into a main chamber, which then branched off into an absolute maze of passages, each leading into different rooms housing various collections of objects.

Ryou led them slowly through room after room, with Yami Bakura spirited out ahead. Their wands were their only light source as they delved deeper underground...until finally, the path practically hidden behind a partially-collapsed wall led them into a wide treasure room where among the small bags of coins and statues of jackals was the heart of the Shadow Magus’s sword.

“This was too easy,” said Ron, as Yugi delicately picked up the broken fragment from the floor of the tomb. “Not the journey, but...you know. Kinda thought we would find the Shadow Magus guy here too.”

“Take the victory while it lasts,” Seto muttered. “I, for one, am glad he’s not here.”

“It’s weird though,” said Hermione, almost curiously, “With all the trouble surrounding that thing, I half expected it to be on some shiny pedestal or something.”

“Me too,” said Harry.

Ryou looked at the fragment nervously. “Does that really house the Shadow’s soul? It hardly looks like much of anything.”

“I guess it does,” said Yugi. He placed the piece into his bag and swung it around over his shoulder. “We can examine it later. Let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t think we’ll run into those same traps all over again, do you?” asked Ron as they slowly filed through the narrow hallway and up towards the main chambers in the tomb.

Yami Bakura phased out of the Millennium Ring and examined the walls closely. “We tripped them ahead of time before. Unless they are able to reset themselves, we should be safe.”

Ryou nodded. “The Spirit thinks we should be fine. But…if you’d like we can go ahead.”

Hermione cast another silent Lumos and looked back at the room they had just exited. “It’s strange…there’s no indication anywhere of who was buried here. And we didn’t even come across a sarcophagus at all.”

“Maybe this isn’t anyone’s tomb,” said Ron. “Maybe it’s just someone’s collection of stuff.”

Hermione frowned. “I’ve read that belongings were left with the deceased, so they could use them in the next life. What would be the point of setting aside a bunch of objects all alone – and even a broken one, like that sword piece?”

“Maybe whoever was supposed to be left here didn’t get the chance,” said Harry.

Seto lit the end of his own wand and aimed it ahead at the path. “Or maybe whoever stuck the sword piece in here realized what it was and was trying to keep it from being found.”

Yugi nodded. “With the number of traps that we found, that makes sense. Without the Spirit of the Ring’s help, we would never have managed all the way down here on our own. Someone tried really hard to keep it from discovery.”

“And we’ll have to thank you,” said a voice from on ahead. Harry whirled around, wand raised. A trio of Death Eaters stood at the entrance of the tomb, appearing as no more than blank shapes against the harsh daylight. “You made our task so much simpler.”

~~*~~

Seto’s eyes opened slowly to a dimly lit treasure chamber in the center of the tomb. He had to blink a few times to get the muddled fog out of his head and looked around to get his bearings, frowning.

This didn’t make any sense. This was the very room that housed the Shadow Magus’s final sword fragment. They had already left this room; Yugi had the fragment in his possession now, and they were on their way out of the tomb…

He narrowed his eyes, thinking back. Death Eaters. As far as he knew though, after the group ran back inside and split up when the Death Eaters gave chase, he had given his pursuer the slip through the labyrinth and wasn’t anywhere near the main center chamber. …So how did he wind up back here again?

//Well, well…//

Seto was on his feet in an instant. He knew that voice all too well. And honestly, at this point, he shouldn’t have been so surprised that the Shadow waited this long to make an appearance.

The Shadow Magus appeared in the center of the room only moments after his cackle sounded throughout, as two Death Eaters flanked the passage heading out. He immediately raised a clawed hand as chains sprouted from the nearest wall and locked around Seto’s wrists.

Seto immediately pulled at them, scowling. There was only enough slack to make a step or two away from the wall. He turned back and glared at the Shadow Magus. “This is getting old.”

//I would get used to this, Seto Kaiba//, the Shadow Magus rasped. //You will not be leaving my company for quite some time//.

Seto rolled his eyes. “You know you weren’t the first person to tell me that, and that didn’t stop me from getting out then either.”

//I recall well the mess you made in the Dark Lord’s home, and this time, I’ve made assurances that you will not slip away. But if you feel that your bonds are escapable, by all means. I’m sure my minions will enjoy your futile struggles//.

Seto huffed and examined the manacles again. He was too busy trying to pull them out before, but now noticed an almost purplish hue emitting from them, all the way down to the tether magically mounted in the wall. So they came from the Shadow Realm, not a conjured creation by the Death Eaters. Great. That meant he definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

Not right away, at least. And definitely not without a Millennium Item to counter the Shadow Magus’s magic.

Speaking of which….

“You’ve been in my head again.”

//Considering your initial disdain for Priest Set, it amazes me how consistently you are put out when I rid you of him//.

“Maybe I just don’t want you running wild through my head again.”

The Shadow Magus chuckled. //Well. The Millennium Rod is safe in my care now. You needn’t worry about it anymore.//

…That didn’t sound encouraging.

Seto crossed his arms. If he was going to be stuck for the moment, he might as well try and get something out of it. “…So what is it that you want from me this time? It can’t be anything related to the past or to Set, because you went down that rabbit hole the last time and it didn’t take you anywhere.”

//All in due time//, the Magus said, turning slightly to the two Death Eaters. They each nodded once and disappeared back down the corridor leading out of the chamber. //We’re waiting for someone.//

Seto raised an eyebrow. The odds of it being someone in his favor was slim. “Who?”

The Millennium Eye on the Shadow Magus’s mask flared. //Someone is rather impatient today//.

“I don’t like having my time wasted.”

//I would make myself comfortable if I were you. In your current position, you have nothing but time. The Shadow Magus started striding forward. As it stands, your fight against the wizards is nothing compared to what I have in store//.

Seto gave the chain around his left wrist a half-hearted yank again. “…I thought you were working with the Death Eaters. Last I checked you were Vol—You-Know-Who’s stooge.”

He had to mentally correct himself. They just made it out of Malfoy Manor. Knowing now the curse put on the mad wizard’s name, he was going to have to watch what he said. The last thing he needed right now was another painful team-up session with both the Magus and Voldemort.

The first round last winter was bad enough.

The instant the words left his mouth, however, the Shadow Magus was on him. A clawed hand snatched hold of his collar and hoisted him up with ease as far as the chains allowed. //I am no one’s stooge, boy. Your wizard foe dabbled in forces he didn’t understand. He could have had the world at his knees and instead chose petty chaos//.

With a quick fling of his arm, he threw Seto back into the wall and loomed over him. //I have waited thousands of years for this. Nothing will be left to chance. There will be no escape for you or the Pharaoh. I may not have the final piece of my sword and soul – yet – but I am still far stronger now than during our last meeting. You would be wise to fear for your fate//.

“If you think I’m just going to stand here and watch idly while you cause more havoc, then you’re sorely mistaken,” Seto shot back, “You think that Yugi or the Pharaoh isn’t going to barge in here to play ‘Save the Day’ like last time? By now they all probably have figured out what’s happened to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re on their way now.”

//I have no doubts about that//, and Seto couldn’t help but pale slightly at the absolute giddiness that resounded in the Shadow Magus’s hoarse voice. //In fact, I welcome it. After all, we both have something to trade.//

“Yugi isn’t going to give up the sword piece,” said Seto defiantly, though he knew deep down that wouldn’t be the case. “He knows what’s at stake.”

//Despite you just saying he would – ah, ‘Save the Day’? No, you are not leaving my clutches. I have something else that they will want in exchange for the remainder of my soul//.

That statement, doubled by the fact that the Shadow Magus said beforehand that they were waiting for someone, left a bad feeling in the back of Seto’s mind. More Death Eaters? Unlikely, he thought, though – knowing the Shadow long-remembered his flights for freedom during his capture last year, it couldn’t be ruled out.

Voldemort himself? Oh, he hoped not. As far as he knew, the rest of the group was still somewhere in the tomb. And they had narrowly made it out of Malfoy Manor two weeks ago. Eventually, Harry was going to run out of lucky breaks. If Voldemort found them here, odds are they would all end up dead – or worse.

So unless the Shadow Magus was referring to someone completely new, it had to mean that he was seeking out the rest of them. Surely the Shadow was mainly looking for Yugi and the Pharaoh, since they had the sword piece.

Or…at least they did. Who knows what happened when they all split up.

//Not very talkative anymore, I see//.

Seto shrugged and yanked at his chains again, and again to no avail. “Debating how much force it’ll take to pull these out of the wall.”

The Shadow Magus chuckled. //So intent on that futile task, are we? Those will not come out unless I wish it.//

“Whatever,” Seto snapped. “It’s only a matter of time before I’m –”

He trailed off, eyebrow raised. The Shadow Magus had abruptly looked up towards the chamber ceiling and appeared to be ignoring him. He glanced up to see what the Magus was so fixated on, but he couldn’t see it.

It was like Crookshanks watching a shadow on the wall. Only Crookshanks was at least cute.

What the heck was he staring at?

//HONESTLY//, the Shadow Magus raged. He clenched his fists together, creating a purplish mist around them. //MUST I DO EVERYTHING MYSELF?//

The Shadow Magus slowly turned to look at Seto, the Millennium Eye shining rather bright. //Don’t go anywhere//, he taunted.

And with that, he vanished from the room, leaving Seto completely alone.

With a sideways glance towards the empty passage leading out and up into the labyrinth, Seto started wrenching his arms out as far as possible, trying to loosen the mount in the wall. Shadow Realm magic be damned. There had to be way to get these things off and he really didn’t want to be around when the Shadow Magus came back.

He already survived one torturous session with him, along with the extended recovery in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. But, just because he made it through once didn’t mean it was an experience he wanted to repeat.

Seto paused as hurried footsteps sounded back through the corridor. Were the Death Eaters coming back? If that were the case, he really didn’t want them to see him trying to get out. The cranky Shadow Magus was enough and wanted a hard pass on the magical torture. And knowing how wrapped these particular Death Eaters seemed to be around the Shadow Magus’s claws, he didn’t doubt for an instant that they would have a way to tattle back to the Shadow that he was making a bid for freedom.

The echoes became louder and Seto sagged against the wall, somewhat relieved. One set of footsteps, running rather quickly. The Death Eaters traveled in pairs, so odds are it wasn’t them. And the Magus didn’t walk. He glided around and disappeared in and out of places at whim. He had no reason to run.

A fairly loud thud sounded somewhere nearby, and then Hermione darted into the room, wand out.

“S-Seto?”

Seto’s eyes quickly went to the passageway. “What are you doing here?”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped as she stopped to catch her breath. “We were looking for you when you didn’t appear with the others.” Her gaze fell on the chains. “What happened?”

Seto huffed loudly and waved a hand. “Oh, you know. Gave a few Death Eaters laps around this maze only to get nabbed by a Shadow Realm demon.” He glared up at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head, eyes closed. “These days? Just another day in my life.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s get you out of here.” She held her wand out towards his wrists, and tapped the manacles.

Nothing happened.

Hermione frowned. “That should have worked.”

“The Shadow Magus created it, so I’m not surprised that it didn’t,” said Seto bitterly. “His sick fascination with me gets more disturbing by the minute.”

“Well, I’ll have these off in a moment,” said Hermione. “There are a few more spells I can think of…but I’ve never cast them before. Only referenced.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the shrunken beaded bag.

Seto raised an eyebrow. “…Is now really the time?”

She gave him a pointed look. “I can double-check the spells properly, or I could accidentally sever your entire arm. Your choice.”

Seto scowled but waved her on, watching as she knelt down and stretched half of her arm into the bag before pulling out two rather large volumes. “What made you run all the way back here?” he asked as she practically tossed one of them into his hands.

“Honestly? I got lost,” said Hermione, quickly flipping through the pages of her own book. “I was hoping to find Ryou so he could use his Ring as a compass, but I found the Death Eaters instead.”

She gave another quick look around the room. “Did they leave you all alone?”

“It’s not as if I could go anywhere,” Seto said. He stopped turning pages about halfway through and turned the book around to face her. “That one.”

Hermione got to her feet and studied the casting instructions. “It doesn’t look too difficult.”

“Good. Let’s get it over with before the Shadow Magus comes back.”

She gave a quick look back at the corridor before waving her wand in the open air, mimicking the arc movement. “Where did he go?”

“Who knows,” said Seto, “He got mad at something and took off. But this is the last place you should be when he comes back….”

Hermione sighed noisily. “I’m not going to just leave you here. One of these spells has to work.”

“Maybe on regular iron, but these were created from Shadow Magic. Not quite the same.”

“I have to try,” said Hermione, “I think it’ll be safer if I do this at the base, that way I don’t hit you inadvertently. Stretch it out – yes, like that, and hold still.”

The blue sparks that emitted from her wand were impressive, but to their dismay, nothing else came of it. After two more attempts, her shoulders slumped and she reached for the books again.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Seto shifted and looked past her. A purplish mist was starting to roll across the floor. That couldn’t be a good sign…

“Hermione you need to go.”

“No – I’m about there….”

“Hermione,” he said, more urgently, and placed both hands on her shoulders to get her to look up at him. “He’s on his way back. You need to leave.”

Without looking away, she put one of her hands on top of his. “No,” she said, her voice laced with desperation. “Please, I can’t – I won’t leave you to fend for yourself.”

“I can handle the Shadow,” Seto said, and he knew the instant he said the words that she didn’t believe him. “But you –”

//Well, well…isn’t this precious….//

Hermione quickly turned around and gasped. This was the first time she had even seen the Shadow, although now it looked more like a monster than a dark blob with only a visible Millennium Eye. Melding together almost all of the lost sword fragments made him nearly corporeal. Despite hearing his description from Yugi and Seto on more than one occasion, it was something else to see the Shadow Magus in person. He had a hulking figure, which was definitely helped by his bulky robes. Add that to his unusually tall height and wild reddish hair fanning behind him, and it was a rather freaky sight.

It didn’t help that his entire face was covered by that mask (without even eyeholes) and his hands were larger than most people’s.

Looking at him was unnerving, but Hermione swallowed and raised her wand arm. “Let him go, Shadow Magus!”

//So demanding. And we haven’t even been introduced…//

Hermione glared. “I know who you are, and I won’t let you hurt him again.”

//HAH! As if you have any say in the matter. Your feeble magic stands –//

He missed the quick flick of her wrist, but not the jet of red light that went zooming for his face, hitting his mask with a blow that echoed through the chamber.

The Shadow Magus roared, staggering back, and raised a hand to his face. A large crack ran down the right side of the mask, opposite the Millennium Eye, but not deep enough to shatter the thing apart, and it still sat securely on his head.

“That was a warning,” said Hermione fiercely.

The Eye flared as the Shadow Magus straightened back up again, grinning from underneath the mask. //Very good, little witch. But two can play at this game…//

In a flash, he was gone.

Hermione lowered her wand arm slightly, looking around wildly. “W-where did he – ah!”

In a swift motion, the Shadow Magus appeared directly behind her, grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her up into the air with ease, as if she weighed nothing.

//How cute – the princess trying to save the knight//, said the Shadow Magus, leaning his head toward hers as she struggled to get out of his grip. He dug his claws into her forearm, into the still-healing ‘Mudblood’ branding. //But it seems today is not your day to play savior//.

She gasped as he squeezed harder, and his other hand plucked her wand away. //I admire your bravery to stand up to me, but it is a wasted effort. You are like the peons given to me by your wizard enemy. Without your little sticks, you are nothing.//

Seto surged forward angrily as Hermione winced and reached out with her free hand to try and pry the Shadow off. “Let her go!”

The Shadow laughed and turned around. //You are in no position to give me demands. As it stands, I have you both where I want you.// The purplish mist had completely overtaken the floor as the Shadow Magus gave Hermione a hard shake, dislodging her attempt to pull him off of her.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Seto snapped. “You already had me to barter. You don’t need Hermione.”

//You are a difficult one to collect, Seto Kaiba. Now that I have you, without the interference from the wizards, you will not be leaving my side. I have worked too hard to have my plans ruined at the last moment//.

With a swift flick of his wrist, he threw her into Seto, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Hermione sat up, leaning back against Seto as she clutched at her bleeding arm. “And what would those be?”

//Total destruction//.

Seto couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Another lunatic bent on world domination. Get in line.”

//The Pharaoh will soon make the journey to recover his memories. And there is something I need locked away with them. In order to get it, precautions must be taken.//

The Shadow crouched down right in front of them. //I cannot have Priest Set regaining his memories and ruining the centuries of planning I have done. Therefore I cannot have you getting in my way.// He turned his head towards Hermione as the Millennium Eye flared again. //Unlike that fool in Britain, I don’t intend to part with and hide the fragments of my soul. Your friends will no doubt do whatever it will take for your return. How unfortunate for them.//

“…You’re not going to trade me for the sword piece?” said Hermione.

//Not quite//. The Shadow Magus straightened up and loomed over them. //I have been watching you for some time. It is clear to me that the only reason your friends have survived their little soul-hunting quests is because you two make it so. You are the organizers, the strategists. Without you, they are lost.//

“That’s not true,” said Hermione, “Harry and Ron – they’ll be alright without me. They’ve managed before.”

//Have they//, said the Shadow Magus flatly. //Without any help left behind? Who was it that protected your little tents during the winter? Or brewed the shape-shifting potion that gave you entry to the magical government?// His head shifted ever so slightly in Seto’s direction.// And who made sure that there was a place to escape, a contingency, in case your plans went wrong?//

“How do you know about any of that?”

The Shadow Magus laughed. //Just because I am not seen does not mean I am not lurking in the Shadows. Why do you think your first escape was so easy? I have been keeping my Eye on all of you. And this time, nothing will interfere//.  

Hermione glanced briefly at Seto before leveling a hard glare on the Shadow. “You can’t expect us to just sit here as you hurt our friends. “

//I imagine you two to be too enthralled in your Penalty Game to worry about what your friends are up to.//

“What Penalty Game?” said Seto, “Isn’t that something that usually comes after losing a Shadow Game? Last I checked, we haven’t played anything.”

The Shadow’s lip curled upwards from underneath his mask. //Because no one waged war with your little colorful parchments? No//. He gestured around at the room. The purple mist now coated the walls, leaving almost all traces of the chamber behind. //You all became participants in my little game the moment you stepped into this tomb. The Pharaoh may have won the first battle by finding the sword piece before I could, but I have quite the consolation prize before me. And if the Pharaoh wishes to have you returned, he will have to surrender the fragment.//

The Shadow took a step forward as his hands started to glow. //I am not so naïve to think that you won’t find a way to return to your friends, or that they will not devise a plan for your recovery. Therefore, your Penalty Game will leave your minds wandering the little prison I’ve devised for you, and your bodies nothing but discarded shells for your friends to find. If they find you.//

The reddish-purple aura around his hands flared out, and the mist suddenly vanished completely, leaving the three of them back in the room. Or, a room. The small bits of treasure that were originally piled in the corner were gone. So was the doorway leading out and up in the upper labyrinth level.

The Shadow Magus was back in the center of the room again. He snapped his fingers once and the chains around Seto’s wrists vanished, and he watched, amused, as Seto would have made to lunge at him, if not for Hermione clutching at his upper arm to hold him back. How cute.

“What is this place?” Hermione asked. “We…we’re not back where we were before….”

The Shadow Magus tilted his head. //Seeing as you two never get the opportunity to play ‘The Hero’, instead of trapping you within the depths of your minds’ darkest thoughts and fears, I thought I would give you an adventure of your own…//

He raised a hand and a door appeared behind him.

Despite it looking like Set’s door from their soul corridor, it gave Seto immediate flashbacks to the Battle City detour through Noah’s virtual world. Nothing good could be on the other side of that, especially if they were in the middle of the Shadow Realm.

“What’s through there?”

//Your Penalty Game. A rather simple one at that. You two will have a quest to complete. Do so, and you will wake again.//

“That sounds too easy,” said Seto. What was the point of getting them out of the way if the Shadow Magus was going to give them the escape route? “What’s the catch?”

//Your very souls are here in this realm. Should you fail in your mission, you will remain permanently trapped here, and only my magic can alter the state of this place, so there will be no interruptions by the Pharaoh or anyone else. Consider yourselves lucky I left you means to win this game.//

“And we….just have to go through that door?”

//To begin your little journey, yes. …Or, you can stay here, in this empty room, until the end of time.//

Seto narrowed his eyes. “What sort of quest is this?”

//You will have to find that out on your own.//

“…And how will we know if we’ve done it, then? Or, finished properly?” said Hermione.

The dark laugh was not reassuring in the slightest. //Oh. It will be obvious//.

“And how,” Seto began, “Do we know that you’ll upend your claim. For all we know, we’ll go on this quest of yours, beat it, and still be stuck.”

//I would have thought that, by now, you were aware that Shadow Games and their Penalties are absolute. If I were to cheat, our roles would immediately reverse.//

The Shadow Magus shifted in his stance slightly. He sensed movement. Someone was nearing the chamber. While it was unlikely that the heroes had backtracked this far into the tomb so quickly, he didn’t want his work ruined before they had a chance to even start.

//As much as I would love to lurk in the background, there is the matter of getting my soul shard returned to me.// He cackled. //Enjoy your stay.//

He laughed again as the Millennium Eye flared, seeing Seto break away from Hermione and make a run for him as he disappeared back to the tomb’s treasure room.

As the Shadow’s echoes faded from the air, Hermione rushed forward to where Seto was sprawled on the ground, after his dive after the Shadow turned up empty. “Are you alright?”

“Ecstatic.” He got to his feet, glaring at the door.

Hermione followed his gaze and slowly walked over to it. The door sat alone in open space, unconnected to any of the walls. The back side was completely blank, leaving only a knob on the front. “How does this work?”

“It’s Shadow Magic,” Seto said flatly, “It does what it wants.”

Hermione bit her lip and rounded it again. “What do you suppose is on the other side?” She paused, and for a brief moment, could almost sense what he was going to say. “Aside from nothing good.”

“The fact that he was going to drop us in some nightmare hellscape doesn’t leave much optimism,” said Seto, moving to stand beside her. “But if this is some sick Shadow Game, and he said there was a way out, then there is a way out. I just wouldn’t be surprised if he made it near impossible to get to it.”

“I suppose we don’t have much of a choice,” said Hermione and reached for the door handle.

“Wait.”

Seto looked apprehensive. “I’ve been through doors like this before. Not in the Shadow Realm, but a…similar capacity. It was a mind game, designed to drive Mokuba from me.”

Hermione looked back at the door. “Is that what you think is going to happen here?”

“I don’t know. But regardless of how this place was designed, it’s the Shadow Realm. It will eventually wear you down. I can resist it, sort of, thanks to Set’s lessons in the Room of Requirement. But you haven’t been here before.”

“Not for more than a few seconds….”

“I know.” He held out his hand. “I don’t trust that door to not separate us, and I’d rather not have to search for you and the way out.”

“Likewise.” She took hold, and after a moment’s hesitation, reached for the door handle again.

The instant the door opened a blinding white light filled the area, making it impossible to see both the room they were standing in, and what was beyond the doorway.

Seto jerked his head to the side, squinting out the light as Hermione clutched onto him tighter. “Let’s go.”

The second they were through the doorway, the door swung shut and vanished, taking the blinding light with it and the room dissolved back into the shadows.