#i have been everywhere and not here so I forgot i had art

[picorimori]

Oh yeah it was Amy’s birthday the other day

[skymantle]

ferns ^__^ forgot how much i loved her

[hanakoofthejungle]

HuskerDust watercolor fanart based on the fanfiction, Casino of Love by @artwaterfall. The fanfiction, in turn, was inspired by the Overlord Husk AU created by @celestialalpacaron.

Drawing timelapse 

This scene comes from Chapter 15 where Husk and Angel went on their first date at Fizzmodeus' restaurant. They had lobsters. Angel did not know how to eat a lobster so Husk came to the rescue. Basically, they just abused the hell out of that poor dead creature. (It occurred to me: Where does the lobster's soul go? Does it end up in hell, watching its body being consumed?)

---

Angel tried again to pry the shell off still looking over to the side. “Am I doing it?”

Husk barked a laugh so loud the pianist looked up frowning.

“Ya gotta look at what ya doing.”

“Ugh,” Angel deflated and let the lobster rest on the plate, “ maybe I shouldn't have lobster.”

“Here,” Husk got up and walked behind his chair. He laid his hand over Angel's and resumed trying to pry the poor crustacean body.

Angel blushed at the proximity, Husk was practically whispering into his ear about the damn lobster but Angel had trouble focusing with the overlord's hand on his own.

Still Angel butchered the first half of his lobster and screamed in joy a little too loud at having half of it done. People downstairs looked up at them again, frowning.

Husk was still helping him with the second half, juices and lobster bits flying everywhere at Angel clumsiness but every time they joined stares at each other, he would find the cat laughing along with him.

---

Now why did I choose this scene to draw? Because it is fun, simple, wholesome couple interaction and very relatable. It reminds me of the time when I had lobster for the first time in Brussels, spending more time to crack open the lobster than actually enjoying the dish. Turns out lobster did not taste that great, but at the least the group of elderly American at the next table got a good laugh out of watching me and my friend absolutely butcher that lobster :)))

Having never watched Helluva Boss, I had to look up what the inside of that place looks like, but mistakes ensure due to that very wrong heart shape and lack of patterns on the wallpaper. I was lazy but hey at least I got that lamp thingy on the table right :))) As usual, the clothes are the focal point of my fanarts, "a beautiful deep blue, floor length dress, there was only one shoulder strap and a lace veil came from it all the way to the floor behind his shoulder" and "freshly pressed black suit with a deep blue tie that matched Angel's dress". Husk's suit in this drawing is not actually black but a mix of ultramarine and sepia. I usually don't use colors straight out of the pan, but mixing them. I made an exception in this with the lake red color of Husk's wing. I forgot to draw the wings before I did the line art, so I need the color at its strongest to cover the line art which was not supposed to be there.  

My tools still include pencil and Leningrad watercolor. I have been using that watercolor set for over 10 years and it is still the best watercolor set I have ever had. This time I use the Blue Uni-ball pen by Mitsubishi Pencil instead of black M&G gel pen. The line art looks much smoother and the waterproof blue ink added a nice touch to the drawing. I expect nothing less from one of the best pen manufacturers out there. 

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 11-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 3,545 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language, foul language, use of a slur, depictions of violence. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: This chapter was an intense write, I flew through it and the momentum continued right into chapter 12. I sort of rushed the art a little due to having a bunch of exams lined up this month plus assignments so please be patient. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1

Chapter 11

                Charlie made you stay on the property close to the house, if you needed to leave in order to work the orchard or check on the construction on your home, you had to bring him or Tommy along with you. After you told Charlie about the incident, both he and Tommy searched the property for clues, footprints, anything to be able to try and identify who it may have been hiding in the forest that night, but they always came back with nothing. It was as if the shadow person really was just a shadow and nothing more, but you knew what you saw, you saw its form very clearly in the dark of the night.

It had been three days since you told Charlie about it, Luda Mae was on edge worrying about you and your safety. Tommy was also being overly protective of you, he watched you everywhere you went when you were outside, he made you join him in the barn to have you near him while he tended to the animals, you didn’t mind spending the extra time near him.

Today was no different from the rest, the sun was bright in the sky with a cloudless expanse of blue surrounding it. You spent a lot of the morning doing laundry, as you finished hanging up the last of the garments on the outside hang line, you heard a call from Luda Mae,

“Hun, can you come in here when your good and done that laundry?”

You respond in agreement, the final clothespin now tightly pinching one of Tommy’s massive white shirts. You step down from the stool and admire the clothes swaying in the gentle breeze, you felt a certain nostalgia for hanging clothes, your grandmother used to have you help her hang the laundry on the line when you were small, and you never forgot the fresh smell of the outside air on the clothes when you took them down for folding.

You walked into the kitchen from the backdoor with the empty laundry basket in hand, Luda Mae was dressed to leave the house, she grabbed her purse and turned to look for you,

“Oh, there you are. I need to go to the gas station today. Charlie’s gon’ drop me off, then he has to go to town and get some things.” She walks over to grab her sun hat which hung on the wall, and continued,

“Thomas’ gonna be out in the barn with them cows while we’re away, one of ‘em needs a hoof trim so he’s gon’ be a while. Can you stay inside ��til we’re back? I don’t want to risk you gettin’ hurt by some weirdo or nothin’”

You follow her to the main entrance, you felt compelled to ask,

“Shouldn’t I just stay outside with Tommy?”

Luda Mae is now already opening the door, Charlie is honking the horn in the distance to push her along,

“I just wanna be sure you’re safe hun, it’s mighty boring watchin’ a man shave a hoof down, n’ it takes forever to do.” She opens the door to leave but turns and says some final words,

“Every door in this house is locked, as soon as I close this one make sure to lock it and check the door you came in as well. If you’re in the house at least I know you won’t be messed with. I’ll be back in a few hours hun.”

She shut the door and ran to the idling truck while Charlie reamed her out for taking so long. You lock the door as she asked, and head to the kitchen to lock the back door as instructed. You sigh and look out the window at Tommy who was pushing one of the cows’ legs into the holster to prop it up for the trim -I guess I can go to my room and read for a bit-. When you entered your room, you noticed a bit of dust floating in the air, you decide to open the window to let fresh air inside. You went over to one of the bookshelves in the room and picked out a book you never got to finish from high school titled ‘Island of the Blue Dolphins’.

You lay down on your bed to start the book from the first chapter, each sentence reminded you of the past. The book took you out of your head and into someone else’s world, a story from history retold. As you continued to read you grew tired, your eyelids became heavy and before you could put the book down, you were out like a light.

Tommy was still working on the cow, he was gentle and sliced thin sheets off the keratinous layer keeping in mind the comfort level of the cow. He was at it for over an hour, he decided the cow had enough and deserved to take a break. He unhooked the leg and brought the cow out to the pasture with the others, he watched as it happily bounced away to go find a moist patch of grass to munch on. He missed you, and wanted to check in to see what you were up to and get a glass of water while he was inside.

Tommy unlocked the door to the kitchen and poured himself some water which he guzzled down in an instant, as he filled the cup again, he called out to you but there was no answer; Finishing the next glass of water, Tommy went to look for you, calling your name as he moved through each room, but there was never an answer. He felt a chill go up his spine and began searching more frantically, loudly yelling out to you in hopes you were on another floor. He went to your room and knocked on the door, no answer.

Tommy opened the door and looked around the room, he saw your bed was messed up and the window was wide open. You were gone. He screamed for you, running all over the house in case he was wrong about his assumptions but each room he checked was met with dead silence and no one to see. He ran outside, the barn was the first place to look, nothing. He ran to the wheat field, searched around each corner including inside the silo, nothing. He looked in the car graveyard, opening the doors and trunks, searching under the cars, nothing. The final place was the pond, he ran as quick as possible, he looked through the trees and all around the surrounding forest, he searched the dock and the water, nothing again.

Tommy felt like his world was collapsing in on him, he couldn’t find you anywhere, you were taken from him and he wasn’t there to stop it, he was brimming with rage at his failure to protect you.  Now that you were missing, Tommy was hell bent on finding you, he would search to the ends of the earth if he had to, he won’t stop until you are in his arms again.

-

You woke up in a dark room, it was lit dimly with old string lights. The ceiling and walls of the room were made of dirt, like they had been dug into by a shovel, the walls were reinforced by wood beams that the string of the lights would loop around. You felt exhausted, you could barely keep your eyes open and your vision was going in and out of blurriness. You felt like you were laying down on a hard surface, it was cold in this place, -am, I dreaming? Where am I?- You were too exhausted to panic, when you tried to lift your arm to rub your eyes, you realize you couldn’t, you were unable to move your whole body, the best you could manage was just curling your toes or twitching your fingers.

You groan to see if you could speak, you were able to squeak out a noise thankfully. You hear footsteps coming towards where you lay, a smell follows when the footsteps drew close, body odor, really bad body odor. You push out some words,

“Hhhwho, whos…there?” it was weak but audible.

You hear the footsteps come close to you, a chuckle rattles into your ears, someone walks up to your side and looks down at you, their face is too blurry to make out, they speak,

“Nice o’ you t’wake up.”

The voice was familiar, but you struggled to think of the person it reminded you of, you squeeze out another question,

“Hhhh…hhhwho?”

The person kneels down and gets really close to your face, its Dover. You grumble and try to move to get away but he laughs as you struggle.

“Recognize me now dontcha bitch?” his words were pointed, he continues to speak,

“Finally caught ya when those freaks went away. They fucked up muh dang fire and now yer still alive. I intend t’change that.”

You squirm, tears start to roll from your eyes, -why can’t I move? Please let this just be a bad dream- you blink frantically, feeling like if you could just push yourself then somehow you could get out of there. Dover goes over to a shelf area and grabs some ropes, he comes back to you and starts tying your arms and legs down,

“I drugged ya while y’slept in yer nice cushy bed at the Hewitt house.” He ties your hands together and attached the rope to a pole that was behind you,

“Im gon’ wait ‘till it wears off so y’can get the full effect of what I’m gonna put ya through. Payback fer Tilly just up and givin’ everythin’ away t’some whore from Canada.” He ties your feet together and lifts you so you sit upright against the dirt wall next to were you lay.

He walked away and disappeared around the corner, all you could do was cry, as time passed you started to gain your movement back and were finally able to speak. You didn’t remember anything other than falling asleep in your bed with the book, you felt like you were in a waking nightmare. You tried to scream out for help, calling each of the Hewitt’s names in case either of them could hear you, tears streaming down your face as you yelled.

Dover returned, he mocked your screaming and crying and laughed when you stopped, he looked worse than usual, his beard had grown in and was yellowing already, he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in forever. You try to free yourself from your bonds but they were so tight it just cut into your skin the more you struggled, you look up at him as he stood over you, smirking, you ask,

“Why are you doing this?!”

He tilts his head back to chuckle to himself, then says,

“I deserve some fun b’fore I take up the deed to Tilly’s property, I earned it.”

You respond,

“Where did you go after the fire? And where the fuck am I?”

He kneels down to you, his rank smell overwhelming your senses,

“When I saw the fuckin’ Hewitts drivin’ up I had t’run, so I made my way out to an abandoned lot n’ dug this hole so’s I be able t’kill ya without no one knowin’ where I was.” He looked around and continued,

“Seems it worked. Oh, y’can scream all ya want here, no one’s gon’ hear ya.” He cackled and walked over to the table where he got the ropes from,

“Y’see, Im gon’ take pleasure in fuckin’ ya up. Maybe after I kill ya, I’ll give yer body t’the Hewitts, so they can eat it.”

You hang your head down, the tears dripping onto your legs,

“What the hell are you talking about? Just let me go! If you let me go, I won’t say anything to anyone, please!” you had to choke past your tears to speak, you were so scared of what was coming next, you continue to plead,

“Please let me go, please, I don’t want to die.”

Dover just laughs at you, he turns away from the table and is holding a knife, he inspects the edge of it with his thumb as he walks over to you,

“Y’think I’m stupid? I know If I let y’go, those cannibals’ll be after me.” He kneels down and starts to cut away your shirt exposing your bra,

“Y’gon be mighty uncomfortable in the cold down here. Ain’t no comfort comin’ t’ya. While yer awake and alive, you might as well know the truth ‘bout the freaks you lived with.”

You cut in, “What?”

He smirks and continues to tear away the rest of your shirt,

“Those Hewitts, used t’eat people back b’fore the orchard grew. The economy was down, real bad, everyone left town fer greener pastures. Not them though, those dumb fucks wouldn’t leave their big fancy house. Once the food went out n’ deliveries stopped, the animals starved n’ stopped producin’, they ate what animals were left ‘til there was none.” He looked up past his brows at you,

“That’s when they started eatin’ people. Travellin’ folks would be picked off when they came in town fer gas, killed ‘em all n’ cooked ‘em up fer dinner. That big retard one did most of the killin’, he’d slaughter ‘em all then butcher the bodies fer the meat. He’s evil with how many he killed.”

You just sat still, eyes wide,

“How do you know all this? Why didn’t they kill you?”

He ran the knife up your arm, tracing the tip over your skin, he said,

“I used t’be the one deliverin’ gas to the station, only reason they had a fuckin’ store t’begin with. Then when Tilly came round, she hired me on t’start up the orchard. She paid me t’keep quiet. None of it matters now anyway, I’m gon’ report them to the sherriff, and blame them fer ya dyin’”

You yell at him, “What makes you think they won’t hunt you down after I’m dead?”

He laughs,

“They ain’t gon’ get the chance, the sherriff’ll be called b’fore I leave this hole after I’m done with ya”

You start screaming again, as loud as you could just in case any of the Hewitts were nearby. Dover slaps you across the face,

“Save yer screams fer when the fun starts.”

The sting from his slap was panful, you already felt dizzy from the drugs he injected into you wearing off, the slap just made it all worse. You try to struggle again, hoping to possibly get loose form the rope, Dover was now cutting away at your shorts laughing at your efforts to escape,

“Struggle all ya want whore, yer never getting’ out of those knots.”

You curse at him,

“You fucking evil pig, what are you planning?”

He tears away the cloth from your shorts, now exposing your underwear, the chill of the room now giving your skin goosebumps, you feel so cold you shiver. He says,

“I’m gonna take y’apart, piece by piece.” He laughs to himself as he gets up to grab something off the table again.

You wriggle your hands back and forth; you start to feel the rope loosen so you continue steadily wriggling to help loosen it more. You watch Dover to make sure he still has his back turned, you were able to get your hands free, you start to untie your feet while watching Dover. You were able to loosen the rope on your feet and quickly placed your hands back to where they were, holding the rope with them so he didn’t know they were untied, he turned around and had a larger knife with him now.

He came and squatted down to look over your body, he touched your leg and ran his calloused hand up your thigh,

“Don’t know where t’start.” He said as he looked over your legs.

He placed the knifes edge on your collarbone, he pressed in and you winced in pain, he started laughing maniacally, his eyes closed tightly as he threw his head back with glee. Just as he exposed his neck, you punched him right in the Adams apple and he fell backward choking. He dropped the knife to his side as he held his throat, you picked it up and plunged it into his calf, it penetrated and sliced through his muscle and poked through the other side, he clenched his calf with his hands as he choked, trying to catch his breath.

You removed the rope fully from your feet and ran out of the area, you turned the corner and found a doorway made of scrap metal, you fling the door open and start running, barely able to see in front of you. The pathway was at an incline upwards, it led you to a dead end, you looked around for a door and spotted a ladder, you looked up and saw a wooden latch door. You frantically climbed the ladder and pushed up on the door, it opened up to a field with extremely tall grass, you were almost fully out of the hole when you felt a tug at your foot, Dover was behind you pulling you down, it made you fall to the ground above the latch door and he began to drag you into the hole, you screamed as loud as you could.

You were almost pulled in again but you landed a swift kick to Dover’s face with your free foot, he grunted in pain and fell backward into the hole, letting go of your foot. You closed the latch door and ran as fast as you could through the grass, you didn’t know where you were but you knew you needed to put distance between you and him. The sky was dark, it was already nightfall, you were grateful for the heat, it was warming your cold, exposed body. You snuck your way through the grass, being careful to not leave an obvious trail for Dover to find you. You hear his laugh,

“Im gon’ find you bitch! You can’t hide from me!” His words resonated loudly, he was nearby.

You crouch down low and quiet your movements to try and hide in the grass as best you could. You hear him shuffling haphazardly as he floundered around the brush. He was getting closer; you quietly move yourself to a denser area of the field and kneel down as low as possible. You listened for him, his footsteps were inching closer to you, you could hear his heavy breathing and sat as still and quiet as possible when you saw his legs through the strands of vegetation surrounding you,

“Come out lil’ piggy, I’m gonna getcha” he called out for you in a sing-song way, sounding even more unhinged than before.

He was now right next to where you were, you hitched your breath and lowered yourself further into the grass hoping for the best. After a few seconds of just hearing his heavy breathing, he moved on. You waited for a good minute and then when you couldn’t hear his movements again, you quietly snuck away. You continued moving in the same direction, hoping it was going to at least get you to a road, you raised your head above the grass slightly to see where you should go, a forest could be seen in the distance so you made your way towards that, now running as fast as you could.

Just when you reached the edge of the forest you felt your hair pulled back roughly, it made you fall backward and you yelped in pain.

“Gotcha!” he shouted with glee.

Dover dragged you closer to him by your hair, you scratched and clawed at his hand to release your hair. You were at his feet now, he let go of your hair and stood over top of you, he placed his foot on your stomach and stood onto you, you yelled out for help with your last inhalation. He kept applying pressure, now making it hard for you to breathe in, you punched his leg as hard as you could but this just made him laugh loudly. He dropped himself on top of your body, he placed his legs on your arms to prevent you from moving, you gasp for air and let out another scream.

Dover punches your face, you yell in pain and feel dizzy again, his hands are now around your neck squeezing your throat. In this moment, you feel helpless, you can’t squirm enough to get him off of you and now the blood is unable to get to your brain causing you to slowly slip into darkness. As the world around you begins to fade, you hear a low rumbling, like the growl of a wolf. The pressure from your neck is gone and there’s no one on your body, as the blood starts rushing back into your brain you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you roll over onto your front.

The sound you heard was no wolf, it was the revving of an engine, a small engine, a chainsaw.

Next chapter-

[callsign-relic]

cityspeaker Ultra Magnus/Minimus.... yesssssss!!!!!! that'd be so so good in a post-IDW au... my heartttttt

or!! OR... ppppost? war? au?? maybe even no war au. anyway an AU where Megatron and Minimus have never met before. Megatron has had several cityspeakers in the past before but none interact with him like Minimus does. None have bothered to speak with him more than necessary, if at all. wardens very rarely need to speak to their prisoners.

Minimus comes along and just... quietly greets him the first day. for such a simple act, it sure draws Megatron's attention.

i think this would be particularly fun in a version of the AU where Megatron IS inhabited (be it in root mode or city mode. TF please give us more cityformer continuing to have ppl living on them in root mode. please please pleasr) because what better way to pay your dues than being of Literal Service to the people? Ultra Magnus gets hired on as cityspeaker/enforcer (what better way to enforce the law than having optics and audials everywhere as part of the living city...) because they are hoping that with him being a stickler for the rules, it will help keep Megatron in line. except instead of doing his job as intended, Minimus ends up befriending Megatron and making the city better for those living there.

wait silly thought for a second- Minimus walking around and taking notes of all the unsafe places around the city/Megatron. there needs to be a guard rail here. this lighting isnt up to code. those overhead pipes are a safety hazard. these stairs are too steep, regulations state that each step must be so tall, and so on. Megatron fixes them by the next day.

anyway cue dramatic chase scene where Megs gets to shift around Minimus as he's getting chased down by the other enforcers. if you want to be particularly poetic about it, he might even use the safety regulations against the oncoming pursuers (whoops there went that guard rail. totally forgot about it. those stairs? Minimus or Ultra Magnus sized now. he can get up them easily.)

hhrhghgrh them. they. augh. i need to write another ask. <- (trying desperately* to convince myself that no i don't need to write a fic or draw something based on the titan au!!! i don't!!!!!!)

*trying desperately and failing. adds it to my list. someone write smth for this so i dont have to hhrhhghgdh my list of projects is too long

- initiate

IM GOING CRAZY IM GOING CRAZYYYYYYYYY (positively)

It’s official. Titan au is my newest brainrot 👍 I encourage any and all asks pls I’m going insane the voices the brainworms the auahgauahaha

All of these ideas are genuinely so good I love them so much holy shit. Oh my god the part about different structures not being up to code in particular… what came to mind for me is Megatron having been carrying out his penance for so long and being so wrought with the guilt he failed to take care of himself as well, his internals a dilapidated city. Meanwhile Minimus is just very matter-of-factly going around assigning OSHA violations to everything he sees and…

…Megatron finds he doesn’t feel apathetic towards it.

Perhaps Minimus was right… it would be nice if his citizens had guard rails. Oh, those stairs were in poor shape, and it would only take him a second to clean them up…

Just. Minimus helping Megatron both literally and metaphorically pick up the pieces of himself after showing he cares for him

Also oh my god the shifting the environment around to help Minimus escape? Insane. I’m in love with it. Even better if Megatron never really let Minimus close to any of his more sensitive spaces before, only to lead him right to his spark chamber and seal off any exit to ensure Minimus’ safety. Right there, in the place Megatron never allowed anyone near, he knew Minimus would be safe.

Also PLEASEEEE PLEASSEEE send more asks or make art or write fic!!!!!!!!!!! It would genuinely make me so happy 😭😭😭 ough speaking of art I’m already imagining titan!Megs’ design… imagine him having big cuffs on his wrists and ankles or anywhere else they might fit really to symbolize his imprisonment in his punishment. And his imprisonment in his own guilt. Perhaps chains as well idk

I am just brainrotting severely so PLEASE keep talking about this to me 🙏🙏🙏

[mask131]

A continuation of my Medusa post here.

Since people have been asking for links and sources about Medusa, I'll provide a little bibliography of various sources you can compare and debate about. Note that the bibliography about Medusa is even wider and bigger than the little samples I provide below, but I think they form a good "basic set" or "starting kit". (And I might have forgotten things, since I originally wrote my post unplanned and wasn't ready for it to blow up so much. I am just a tiny little blog that didn't get as much as seven likes on my biggest things you know Xp)

First of all, a resource that is fully available for free on Google Books: here, or here. It is called "Dangerous Beauties: Medusa in Classical Art", a Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, published in the winter of 2017. Very beautiful and informative with lot of nice art. There's also more about the exposition tied to this publication here. There was another publication by the Metropolitan Museum that can be of some interest, Majorie Milne's "Perseus and Medusa on an Attic Vase".

When it comes to English-speaking books analysing and dissecting the Medusa myth, two works keep popping up everywhere. 2003's "The Medusa Reader", and Stephen Wilk's "Medusa: Solving the Mystery of the Gorgon". They do form references when it comes to the overview, analysis and evolution of the Gorgon figure. Other works of note include David Leeming's "Medusa in the Mirror of Time", and Thalia Feldman's "Gorgo and the Origins of Fear" (published within "Arion", I don't know if it had been published elsewhere). The Internet Archive has a free copy, right here, of Frederick Thomas Elworthy's "The Evil Eye: The Classical Account of an Ancient Superstition".

If you can read French, go read Jean-Pierre Vernant's works that tackled the Gorgon: "La mort dans les yeux: Figures de l'Autre en Grèce Ancienne", (Death in the eyes: Figures of the Other in Ancient Greece - explores the legends of the Gorgon and of Artemis) ; and his co-work with Pierre-Vidal Naquet "Mythe et tragédie en Grèce Ancienne" (Vernant did wrote in English a part of The Medusa Reader, the article "In the mirror of Medusa"). Jean Clair also wrote an interesting document: "Méduse. Contribution à une anthropologie des arts du visuel."

And finally, the cherry at the top, the Internet Archive even has a copy of the scholia (well, one of them), in which the old Pherecyde tales are described - the ones that make proof the idea of Medusa having been turned into a monster by Athena due to a crime of vanity and boasting is as old as the 5th century BC. It is right here. If you like to read Latin, go have fun.

(Shoutout to the people who asked for links and sources - which is absolutely normal and indeed much needed in this time of widespread misinformation and websites that can literaly invent Greek goddesses of torture out of nowhere

@60sec400 @fishlord-main @nouzillard @bigsnorp @gendermeh and probably others I forgot about

EDIT: adding @tanoraqui and @beanshery to the list)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Can I ask what do you mean that Félix is “far from the only victim of the issue?” What other characters have this issue from Miraculous?

When I said, "Felix is far from the only victim of this issue," I was referring to the ongoing problem of inconsistent characterization. Generally speaking, characters should act according to their own internal logic. When they do, they come across as reasonably consistent, predictable, and - most importantly - realistic.

I'll talk in depth about the concept of consistent character logic and how you get around it in a moment. Before I do, I want to give a few examples from the show to demonstrate what I mean by inconsistent characterization as we must understand what the show is doing wrong before we can discuss how to do it right. This issue is so widespread that I could go character by character and give examples, but for the sake of brevity, I'll just pick the first three that come to mind.

Alya

In Chameleon, we get this exchange:

Alya: A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you prove [that Lila] doesn't actually know Ladybug? Marinette: Well I–uh… I… I… Okay! You want proof she's lying? Hey Lila! You forgot your napkin!

In this scene, Alya comes across as massively hypocritical because we all know that Alya isn't holding Lila to the same standard that Marinette is being held to. Alya will happily believe whatever BS Lila spouts and even post it on the Ladyblog for all the world to see.

We also know that this habit of not verifying sources isn't a new thing for Alya. We saw it bite her in the ass a couple times back in season one with things like the Lady WiFi incident where Alya thought that Chloe was Ladybug based on little more than circumstantial evidence.

But at the same time, we get things like this scene from the start of Feast:

Alya: Now you know back in the day sculptures were painted, right? Most of the paint vanished over time, but tiny microscopic pigments still remain. Thanks to this special app, witness how it originally looked. But here's the big thing. All these works of art have something in common. It's the same symbol! Look, everywhere. (Marinette gasps as she imagines Master Fu's mission) It's like some kind of secret society emblem. As if a kind of Order of the Guardians has been watching over the superheroes since the beginning of time!

This scene showed off some serious research skills. Alya uncovered secrets that the guardians had kept hidden for centuries or possibly even millennia! And this isn't the only time where we see Alya pull off this kind of quality research. If you pay attention, you'll realize that she clearly wasn't kidding when she says that she checks her sources!

In other words, depending on the episode, Alya is either a brilliant reporter who does her research or a tabloid journalist who takes anything she's given at face value as long as it makes for a popular blog post. There is no consistency nor is there a gradual change over time. The quality of Alya's journalism jumps back and forth from episode to episode depending on what the writers need it to be for the plot to work.

Nino

Nino is the holder of the miraculous of Protection and we were told many times that a miraculous must suit the person who bears it, so Nino supposedly embodies the spirit of Protection. And yet, in the season five episode Illusion, we see him:

Out his secret identity for no reason

Out his girlfriend's secret identity for no reason and without her permission!

Purposefully antagonize his best friend's father even though he knows that Gabriel and Adrien have a very tense relationship

Willingly get someone akumatized without taking any precautions to minimize the damage that akuma will do

Does that sound like a protector to you? Does it even sound like someone who should be made a part-time hero? I'd say no. Especially since Nino doesn't apologize for any of this. He happily justifies his own behavior and is even treated as being in the right. The only sudo-apology we get is this:

Nino: Mr. Agreste, I owe you an apology. All your troubles today, the pizza, the pasta, the chocolate, all that was... that was a plan to help Ladybug and Cat Noir. And it worked, dude! I mean, sir... Ladybug, Cat Noir, look! (shows a picture of Gabriel’s akumatization) Magic lightning! That's how Monarch gives his akumatized villains the power of the Miraculous!

Which is followed by everyone praising Nino for uncovering a thing that we now know goes nowhere. The heroes never try to track down the "lightning" Nino caught on film, so he risked Adrien's relationship and freedom for nothing. If that's protection, then count me out!

Adrien

At the start of season two, we get Glacitor, which gives us this exchange:

Cat Noir: There's a boy? Who is...? Ladybug: It's— I can't tell you who it is. We can't know anything about each other. Our identities must remain a secret. We're both superheroes, Cat Noir. We don't have a choice. (There's a silence. They look at each other sadly. Cat Noir walks closer and smiles before he hands her a rose, which Ladybug takes) Cat Noir: I get it, Ladybug. Your friendship means everything to me. (kisses her cheek) You can keep the rose. It goes with your costume.

And then, in this same episode, when Adrien is alone with Plagg, he says:

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Driving home the fact that he truly meant what he said to Ladybug. He is happy to just be her friend, though he does hope that, one day, their relationship changes.

Then, towards the end of season two, we get Frozer which has Chat Noir do this:

Cat Noir: For you, M'lady. (kneels and showed the rose on his hand.) Ladybug: Seriously, Cat Noir? You're about to transform back! (points his ring) Cat Noir: So what? Ladybug: Well, if you transform back, then I'll know who you are and then... Cat Noir: And then we won't keep secrets from each other anymore. (transforms back to Adrien and Ladybug is shocked) Adrien: We'll be united, more powerful and free, we'll defeat Hawk Moth, then we can both run away to an island! (Ladybug smiles a little bit) Far away from everything. We will live off nothing but fruits, and we will have a little pet hamster and we will name it- Ladybug: Cat Noir! (It was revealed it was a daydream from Cat Noir) I can't accept this rose from you. I told you already. I'm in love with someone else. Cat Noir: I know, M'lady. But if he weren't here, would things be different between us?

And this:

Ladyice: Cat Noir. We need to set up a trap for whoever turned the city into a giant ice rink. (throws yo-yo) Icecat: (bitterly) My feline instincts prefer to track and observe before I attack. You go your way, I'll go mine. Ladyice: Please don't tell me you're mad at me about the rose. Icecat: There may be a certain chill now between us. Ladyice: I get it, but we should really focus on saving Paris right now. Icecat: We don't always have to do everything together, after all. It's not like we're a couple. (skates away) Ladyice: Cat Noir, don't get all pouty on me!

And this:

Adrien: I hope this helps you get more students to sign up. (walks away with Kagami) Kagami: You still keep doing what other people want you to do. Adrien: No, I just want him to be happy. And I'm not changing my target. Even if it means failing over and over again, because one day, I will succeed and hit it.

Oh yeah, he's totally respecting Ladybug's "no" and prioritizing their friendship over his feelings! This is top tier dreamy romantic lead writing!

On Characterization

By now, you hopefully see I what I meant when I said that Felix is far from the only character to have magical personality changes for the sake of The Plot. No one is safe from being rewritten. Sometimes characters change permanently without a real explanation. Sometimes characters ping pong back and forth. Other times they're so weird and wacky that you truly have no idea who this character is supposed to be. This is a problem because well written characters tend to be predictable. That doesn't mean that you'll always know exactly what a character will do. It just meant that a character's actions should make sense to the audience.

But, if you're a writer, how do you do that?

Allow me to explain!

If you want to write a solid, believable character, you have to keep them logically consistent. This does not mean that their actions need to be logical. All it means is that any character-based logic you establish has to be respected and followed.

For example, if you establish that Marinette can't talk to Adrien without messing up her words, then you cannot have an episode where she's suddenly able to talk to him because you are breaking one of Marinette's character rules.

If you have established this rule for Marinette, but your story needs to let Marinette talk to Adrien, then you need to do one of two things: create a situation that logically breaks her rules OR give her a character arc. That's just how characterization works! You establish a character, let the audience get to know them, then find ways to tell the story you want to tell while honoring the character you introduced the audience to. If your characters' are ping ponging all over the place and acting completely different from episode to episode, then you are failing at characterization.

Before we end, let's take a moment to rewind and explain what I meant when I talked about the two ways to get around a character's rules. We'll start with the easier way: breaking rules by putting the character in a situation that forces them to do something they'd usually never do.

Extenuating Circumstances

This is the first of the two ways to get around character rules and Miraculous occasionally does it well. For example, in Risk, they needed to get Marinette and Adrien to talk about things that Marinette and Adrien would never discuss, so the writers had an akuma make them talk. That's good writing! Special circumstances can - and often should - override character rules. No one will struggle to believe it if a pacifist becomes violent when their loved ones are threatened. In fact, in that scenario, keeping the pacifist a pacifist may make the character feel unbelievable depending on why they're a pacifist and the nature of the threat.

It's important to note that these rule breaking moments tend to be short lived like how Marinette and Adrien both reverted as soon as Risk was no longer affecting them.

Above, we discussed how out of character Nino was in Illusion, but his behavior in that episode isn't all that different from his behavior in Rocketear and I have no issues with Nino's writing in Rocketear. The reason for the discrepancy is that, in Rocketear, Nino thought that Alya was cheating on him. That's the kind of extenuating circumstance that would make someone act a little weird. In other words, Illusion's problem is not Nino's behavior, it's the context of his behavior. The writers simply didn't put in the work to make Illusion feel believable.

Character Arcs

Now that we've talked about temporary changes, let's switch gears and talk about the way you make more permanent changes to a character's rules. Namely, character arcs.

People are probably more familiar with this tool, but I'll still quickly define it: a character arc is when a character undergoes a change in personality, behavior, and/or beliefs based on an experience or series of experiences.

Miraculous is terrible at character arcs, so I don't have any examples to pull from in canon. Instead, let's take the Adrien example from above and rewrite it to be a character arc where he goes from pouting about being turned down to accepting that he really is happy to just be Ladybug's friend.

It is incredibly common for teenagers to struggle with the concept of rejection. Heck, even full grown adults struggle with it! You meet someone and you're drawn to them and you start building up this wonderful relationship in your head but, before that dream even gets a chance to become reality, your love interest blows it up with a, "No." Instead of accepting that, "No," you become obsessed with changing their mind. If only they'd see you in the right light, you know that they'd love you like you love them!

Obviously that's not how things work and this point of view is quite problematic, but this is a kids show and Adrien is only 14. It's reasonable for him to need to learn this lesson. I'd even go so far as to argue that we need characters to learn this lesson in kids shows. And if you don't think it should be learned by characters who eventually do end up with their love, that's fine, I don't disagree. However, I do think the lesson still works so long as we get a good gap between the character learning it and the character getting together with their love interest.

On to the rewrite!

In this new version of season two, Chat Noir doesn't take the Glaciator rejection well. Instead of smiling and accepting it, he asks if he has any chance and he's devastated when he's told, "No." We'll even add a scene at the end of the episode where Adrien tells Plagg, "I'm going to change Ladybug's mind!" In other words, Glaciator now plays like Frozer and it also leads into a season-wide conflict where Chat Noir is good to his word.

Throughout the season, he keeps pushing things, trying to prove that he's the better pick and that mystery boy is a waste of Ladybug's time. This all culminates in the new version of Frozer, wherein Adrien decides to go out with Kagami to make Ladybug jealous. But remember, that episode only happens because Kagami is trying to convince Adrien to give up on his crush and crush on her instead. Aka, the exact same thing that Adrien has been doing all season.

As you may have already guessed, in the new Frozer, we see Kagami do the same kinds of things that Chat Noir has been doing to Ladybug because Kagami is equally desperate to prove that she and Adrien are meant to be. He just needs to wake up and get with the program!

The more Kagami pushes, the more Adrien realizes that this date was a terrible mistake. He also realizes, "Oh shit, is this how I've been acting? Gosh, I'm an awful friend! I'm going to ruin my partnership if I keep this up."

By the end of the episode, Chat Noir apologies to Ladybug and Kagami can either learn the same lesson or promise to not give up, leading Adrien to sigh and promise to suffer through her advances for at least a little while longer because he wants to try and get her to learn the same lesson he did.

From that point on, Chat Noir is totally respectful of Ladybug, but still very much in love with her. She can even say that she hates hurting him, to which he'll reply, "You didn't do a thing to hurt me, my Lady. You've been perfectly clear about what you want. I'm going to do my best to respect that because your friendship means everything to me. I don't want my feelings to ruin what we have."

I'd also have this conversation establish that the flirty banter is okay by both of them and have them both promise to say something if their boundaries change, but I'm not writing all that out. What really matters is that Chat Noir has now learned a valuable lesson and we can have all of the Ladynoir hi-jinks we love so much without any of that nasty, pushy undercurrent we get in canon. Instead, we now get some lovely, heartfelt pinning that's going to play so good when the reveal happens!

If you want to really have some run, you can even let Ladybug develop feelings for Chat Noir to really highlight how sexy respect is. It's up to your preferences, but I do enjoy a good "two crushes" crisis and Marinette's sexual/romantic alignment seems to allow for multiple crushes based on the Luka and Catwalker stuff.

Conclusion

You can make almost any character do almost anything if you play your cards right, but Miraculous isn't playing the game. The writers seem to do whatever they want and it's sad because there's a good show to be had here. Good characters, too. It's why I continue to defend them in spite of the mess that is canon. Every single character in this show could have been great if the show had put in the effort to make them great.

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost In The Shadows: Part Twelve

A/N: This one is short, sorry, also have began writing my next series, my stuff about that will be up once i'm finished posting this story, hoe you like it, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,159

Warnings: angst, Guns, Bucky being unaware, Wayne, and Brock if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// 

Tags: @cherryblossomsky- - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love - @stoneyggirl2  - @ordelixx - @arunabrak

After the stress of being at the hospital worried sick everyday, Y/n had to admit being at her villa in Italy was a nice change from the compound back home. It was also nice that she was able to get Bucky an arm with the thought of mind that money was no object, so she got the best of the best. The best part was it was just her and Bucky, since everyone  back home wanted to keep it hush hush that they were leaving, there wasn’t a security staff always lurking nor did she have any professionals roaming the house like cleaners, and kitchen staff, it felt normal, and she almost didn’t dare say she liked it. 

Currently she sat by the pool, while Bucky was swimming laps, she softly smiled to herself as she thought about it. Tonight they were going to roam the city, starting with an art gallery and then dinner. A lot of this felt so domestic to her and she couldn’t fully hate it. “You okay?” Bucky asked, her eyes opened as she looked at him. “I know you’ve been stressed.” And there was also that, if Bucky remembered he would probably understand the why, because technically you were both in hiding. 

“Bucky, if anything I’m for once not stressed.” She lied through her teeth, she was more stressed than ever before, because they were stuck in a foreign country Bucky had no memory of the Mafia, and for the first time since taking her family business back she wasn’t the one in control of everything, and she hated that. “If anything, I’m excited about tonight, it’s gonna be romantic.” 

As the two of them walked around looking at different paintings, sculpture and other pieces of work. It was nice until a bullet hit one of the paintings, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Get down!” She yelled, she pulled out her own gun that had been tucked away in a secret pouch in her overly big purse, as more bullets came through breaking the glass.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked with wide eyes. 

Y/n looked at him. “Believe me Bucky in another life you’d understand, but for now follow what I do.” She aimed her own gun at the glass ceiling of the building, where she couldn’t see even an outline of a person, she took a deep breath in irritation. “Okay, we’ve gotta get on that roof.” 

“That’s where the bullets came from.” Bucky hissed out. 

Y/n nodded. “I know.” She got up moving, Bucky moved her as she had told him. As people who weren’t dead ran around in panic and fear, and red lights went off with an annoying alarm and people who had gotten shot in the spray of bullets moments earlier laid on the ground crying or dead.  She moved around until she found a roof entrance, she began running up the stairs, when both of them made it up to the roof Y/n found who she was looking for meaning whoever it was wanting to kill her had an open air shot to get her. As Y/n saw it was two people, Sharon and Wayne, Y/n scoffed, wind caused her hair to blow everywhere. “You two have got to be shitting me! You're working together?” 

They both looked at her with wide eyes. “She betrayed Brock, so I'm here for both of you!” Wayne was the first to speak. 

Y/n began to actually laugh. “That’s a good one Wayne, you're working for Rumlow, you're not even stupid enough to do that.” 

“You're the one who’s gonna lose out, Y/n, you are the one who lost doing business with him, and you're gonna die for it.” Wayne smiled wickedly, Y/n noticed he looked different; he'd been bulked up or something. 

“Are you on that fucking staroids he wants to sell on the streets?” She scoffed able to tell, by the obvious side effects. 

“It’s called ‘the serum’.” He said aggressively. 

“Oh, please, all those blue crystals are gonna do for you is kill you eventually.” Y/n was taunting him. 

“Okay that's enough.” Sharron stopped her from continuing. “I’m killing you, and then taking everything you’ve built.” The blond held up a gun at Y/n, making her do the same. 

Y/n, wasn’t aiming for her sister but Wayne, as her finger pressed the trigger Sharons did the same and she ducked down, with Bucky as she watched Wayne fall off the building with blood spreading on his shirt. 

Sharon watched and hurried to follow where he fell, jumping off knowing Y/n was giving her one more chance to get her. Y/n liked a game especially with her sister, so she was willing to play it, if Sharon killed her next time she’d win, only getting one more chance to try again, before Y/n would kill her. Y/n looked at Bucky making sure he was alright, he looked shaken up but no wounds, she helped him up. “Are you okay?” She asked, and he nodded. “Okay come on.” 

When they got back to the villa she began packing everything they had brought, moving as fast as she could.  “Y/n what the hell was that!” Bucky yelled, making her freeze up, stopping what she was doing.

Y/n whipped around. “You're not gonna talk to me like that!” She yelled back. “You're the one who doesn't remember anything, and doesn't know what is going on so you're not gonna yell at me, I’m doing this for your safety, because I care about you.” 

“Explain what’s going on then.” He said with irritation. 

“My sister, who is a skilled assassin, and a guy I refused to do business with are trying to kill me and possibly you, and that’s how we ended up in the hospital I’m assuming, and your don’t remember this because of what you got in the accident, Bucky I’m a mafia boss and so is your brother, but we’ve gotta go if you want to live.” She spoke with pure urgency, she moved up to him, placing her hand in his, she slowly moved in closer to him, kissing him softly. “Bucky, I love you, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, if you come with me I’ll make sure you don’t die.” 

Bucky pulled her closer to him. “I’ll go with you, but be honest with me from now on.” 

Y/n looked at him and nodded. “Okay, for now pack, I’ll figure out where to next.”

_____

Brock shook his head, as Wayne's feed and tracker turned red, he slammed his hand on the desk, a mix of anger and joy. Wayne had been helpful but soon became a pest on his shoulder, he huffed knowing he needed to know Y/n’s next move. He had to be the one to finish her off. 

[indigos-stardust]

Mom's Scales/ She's Here, I think I know what it's about based on the name alone from what you've told me about your aus and hcs, TELL US MOOREE

Ok so I didn't have a lot of words to give so I made some art

For context: The death of Links mother (only a few months after he was born) is a pretty recurring undertone of my four swords series Color Spectrum. Its effected their dad and Link's relationships a lot...

From their father grieving when Link was little and Link trying to pick up the emotional strain as a kid... to feeling like it was his own fault or like he was a burden due to how "difficult" he was as a teen. A lot of this was subconscious in Link before the manga, but it definitely plays a large role in their dynamics between each link and also each of their relationships with their father.

I can go into more details about this if you like, but that's more of a "What if I exploded and Generational Trauma just Splattered Everywhere" (#14) starring Red lol

anyways, I had this idea that like, links mother (im calling her Mia for now) got some freshly dead privileges esp considering her relationship with fairies and yk, giving birth to the kid with the soul of the ancient hero or whatever.

Point is she wanted a way to be able to come back and protect or aid her little one in some way in the future. Hylia gave her an offer and she took it. And uh-

Also forgot to mention shes Soo autistic <3 which is fun because link (or the linkS) are very autistic and that like??disconnect is what caused SO many issues between them originally, I really feel like links shaky relationship with his dad is overlooked but eh just my opinion

Listen this originally just started out as "lol what if the dragon from the manga was sweet and kind to shadow" but I'd also just finished thinking about how links dads grief paralleled vios and uh-

Well I connected the dots (I forced them together very aggressively while sobbing) and now their mom came back as a half sentient dragon who saw bebe shadow and went "this is mine" and decided to lick his wounds (literally) and teach him how to fight when he was just like... yk being forced to become stronger thru survival

to be clear she didn't mean to like burn down crops and whatever, half sentience and all, but she just wanted to support her new lil monochrome bebe (shadow) and then SHE DISCOVERED MORE IN DIFFERENT COLORS AND WAS ABSOLUTELY THRILLED

(links father is terrified but also mystified by her) and she thinks that this little fella who has been taking care of her babies is very nice to keep alive as well

Also shadow originally named her "Blood Hunter" but in private? When its just her and him? He calls her Mai-Mai because well. Dragons do communicate and her little noises while she took care of lil shadow? Sounded very much like "mai a maiamaimai"

(also I just love the name I stole it from ALBW)

they do reunite after shadow is reborn btw

ANYWAYS HERES HER DESIGN

(thank you @here4dragons for helping me with the anatomy and abse THANK U THANK U THANK U)

lil doodle^

[somberjoon]

SYZYGY [sneak peek]

✩ pairing: alpha namjoon x female omega reader

✩ genre: wonderous , soulmates , strangers to "friends" to lovers , fluff , life lessons , slice-of-life , brief angsty situations , happy ending

✩ word count: 432

✩ chapter warnings: cussing , cover art does not depict fmc features.

✩ summary: Namjoon would say that he truly lives the normal life. As an alpha, he works the job he wants, he goes out when he has time, and he has never received a single late-fee on payments. He's living the mundane life- until an unknown omega literally drops into his life. Where did she come from? Why him?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 ...

“Uh…Namjoon?”

Seokjin’s unsure voice asks behind Namjoon as he clicks his apartment door’s locks into place. His limbs seem to lag as he tries to peel his shoes and jacket off. 

“What?”

“I thought you said you didn’t go out last night.”

“Bro, I didn’t.” Namjoon adds a whiny ending in his answer. Both Seokjin and Jimin have been asking if he went out without them- the whole night he’s had to convince them he stayed in on a Friday night to work.

“Then, why is there an omega in your living room?”

“There’s not an ‘mega in my liv-” Namjoon finally pries his shoes off and turns to find a female standing just next to his couch. Her scent hits him like a bag of bricks- it’s fucking everywhere, like she scented ever piece of fabric in the house and pushed out some more just for extra measure. 

“Alpha!” Her bright eyes land on his still adjusting eyes. He’s trying his best to piece together why the fuck this is happening. He must be really fucking drunk. They must all be. There wouldn’t be a random omega in his home. He hasn’t touched another person in months thanks to the workload he has. 

“Namjoon? She’s talking to you.” Jimin pipes up, trying to cover his nose with his jacket sleeve. He can’t think the smell is bad can he? Namjoon thinks her scent is nice, really good, perfect even- but as his eyes turn to Jimin and Seokjin he can see their discomfort. 

“You’re talking to me?” Namjoon asks stupidly. He can’t, for the life of him, get ahold of a single thought. There’s no reason for her to be here talking to him. 

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you.” She says surely. “She sent me to you.” She ends with a giddy smile. 

“Namjoon if you’ve got some weird roleplay going on please let us leave.” Seokjin says finally, pushing Namjoon into his apartment more to dispel the situation and- apparently- leave the stunned, drunk alpha alone with this unknown omega. 

“Who are you?” He asks, studying her to try and figure out if this was an omega he forgot he had a thing with before. Namjoon can’t imagine her as anyone he’s been with before- he’d surely remember a face like her’s, a scent so perfect. 

“Y/N. I’m your gift!” She says with certainty, never letting her smile leave as she waits for him to react to her. Instead, he just feels extremely light headed. With a few slowed-blinks, Namjoon collapses to the ground with a few thuds.

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Five

Sheesh, so much for getting back to weekly updates! I don't know what else to do but apologize folks, and to say thank you for hanging in there with me if you're still patiently reading this story despite my lack of speed. Please enjoy the newest chapter - the threat is ramping up, but so is Killian's determination to help keep Emma safe!

Thank you so, so, SO much for @xarandomdreamx and her wonderful beta skills - she had a job fixing all the times I switched tenses this go 'round!

And continued thanks to @eastwesthomeisbest for this cover art that I'm thrilled by all over again each time I post a new chapter!!

Read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Five: Unwanted Reunion and New Resolve

Killian Jones’ mind was everywhere but on the shipping manifests and cost reports he was attempting to look over in his small office down at the docks. Paperwork of that nature was his least favorite part of being the boss, and a tedious chore at the best of times, but with all he had witnessed the night before - Emma trembling in his arms, shaking from the sapping strength of her visions - he could find little space in his brain for inventory and figures. The sunlight glinting off the water out the window to his left and the gentle sound of the waves striking the moorings of the pier always tried to entice him from his desk on mornings he had to take alone to put the business in order, but with his concentration already severely fractured, he was making little to no headway. He’d dropped Emma off by her car at the gallery that morning, reluctantly aware that he had to give her a bit of space, and figuring that in the middle of town in broad daylight was the best time to do so and still retain his own peace of mind. He’d spent the night on her couch - against her protests that she sleep there instead - but all had been quiet, no signs of trouble. She’d planned to go to the diner to grab breakfast, then work for a few hours, and he’d pick her up that evening when they’d both finished for the day.

With a growl of frustration, Killian pushed his chair back and reclined in it, raking a hand through his dark hair, surely making it stand on end, and squeezing his eyes closed to block all the images rushing through, images that were already inside his head. He wanted to yell, to hit something - mostly his own younger self. How had they all been so blind and callous? Was this what Emma had always been dealing with? Even as a child? Rose would have known, would have been a support, a respite for Emma in the storm the rest of her life must have been. His baby sister, whom he’d doted on, but clearly not paid careful enough attention to, would have done nothing less. But when she was snatched away, and Emma blamed for the loss, despite what she had risked in order to help, it was just too late, the storm had surged back to surround her, raging and buffeting her more cruelly than ever. Though he had wondered briefly about the marks he could see that morning, and what had kept Emma from meeting Rose the night before, he had been too young and blind, too lost in his own grief and family concerns to reach out to her as he saw now he should have done. She had lost the only anchor in the maelstrom she had ever possessed, and he hadn’t bothered to toss her a lifeline. Leaning forward again, elbows planted on his cluttered desk, Killian rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully for a moment, trying to refocus on what he could do now to help her and show he wanted to ease her burden - would always, always, be at her side from now on, if she would allow it. Emma had said, when her defenses were still down and he had held her close, trying to imbue any bit of strength he could, that Rose wasn’t the only one - that there had been other victims.

Galvanized with sudden inspiration, he pushed his bookkeeping aside in a messy heap to one corner of his desk and quickly opened a new window on his laptop. If he wasn’t going to be able to focus on his own work, he might as well accomplish something worthwhile, something he could take to Emma as proof of how fully he took her at her word - a starting point for their inquiry. His eyes began to scan lines of text in rapid fascination - both amazed and appalled at the sheer amount of information at one’s fingertips once he chose to look, and at the horrifying reality of there being so much to be found.

He was soon fully engaged in the task, his other concerns slipping away with the minutes that ticked by until he could call it a day, and it suddenly felt as if he had managed some worthwhile work after all. Perhaps not for Jones Shipping Ltd., but important all the same. He tried not to picture the scoff and disappointed shake of the head his father would have given at that; Brennan Jones did nothing if not for the furtherance of their name and holdings, and his imagination’s echoes of the sharp retort that would be on his mother’s lips did no good either.

All the same, he was anxious to show Emma what he had turned up, and in only a couple hours’ searching. It wouldn’t be what one might call pleasant dinner conversation - certainly not what he’d usually entertain as fit for a second date - was he crazy to consider it as such?  He felt Emma would want to know all the same. It was proof that what she had seen the night before, horrifying as it must have been, was hardly mistaken or imagined. And it was a first stop toward finally uncovering the truth after all this time. Emma deserved to be set free at long last - they all did.

When it finally neared five o’clock, Killian had never locked up his office and left work so quickly. He headed straight for the town square and those mesmerizing green eyes he was eager to feel upon him again. He had been missing them for longer than he’d ever fully realized.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

The morning after intense visions Emma always felt a bit hazy, slightly dazed and headache-y, almost as though suffering from a mental hangover of sorts, from exerting such focus and emotion. That morning was no different, but she shuffled gingerly through her usual routine as always, wincing but not about to waste time recouping her strength if she still hoped to open for business as planned.

By the time she had returned to the gallery, a shocking amount of coffee in her system and a satisfyingly crisp and greasy bacon sandwich from the local diner in her stomach, she already felt more herself. She had called the young lady, Violet Clemens  back and hired her after all. She was going to need help, and the sale she had already made - to Ruby Jones, of all people! - had boosted her confidence. She might as well sink everything into this; if she went down, she would go down swinging with all she had.

Violet had joined her in the shop just after 12:30, and they had spent a cheerful couple of hours putting the last items and displays in place. The other woman had proven a real asset already: agreeable, quick, and a good eye to boot. She was pleasant company and a worthy distraction. Emma was already exceedingly glad of her presence.

It was just half past three when Emma paused to stretch, catch her breath, and survey their progress with a proud smile. There really wasn’t too much left after Killian’s help the previous day, and all that she and her new employee had just accomplished. Smiling broadly, she thanked Violet once more, and got them both a cold water bottle from the small fridge she’d had Killian’s help in nestling on the shelf under the counter. They were due a cool drink and a moment’s sit down, she felt sure. 

While they were still sipping their drinks perched on the tall stools she’d placed behind the counter, the bell above the shop door jangled merrily to announce the arrival of Mayor Walsh Ozman with his wide, charming-the-public smile. Emma stood and moved forward to greet her old acquaintance, asking what they could do for him, even though she was privately amused at how well the public servant schtick seemed to suit him. She would have never imagined that the unhappy, mean-spirited boy of their youth would be wearing that wide smile and winning local elections when they all grew up. Then again, she couldn’t have pictured much for her future either, not back then. Still, she mused curiously before returning her attention to Walsh’s reply, she would have to ask Killian if it was an election year and if Mayor Ozman was trying to win over these two newcomers to his town by turning on the charm.

As it turned out, the mayor was also hoping to make an early purchase - it seemed that he and his wife were quite close to their 15th anniversary, and having lived in Storybrooke all that time, he was anxious to shop for a gift somewhere completely unknown to her. He genuinely did want to offer any help he could as a town representative, but if he could find the right anniversary present at the same time, he would be incredibly grateful.

Violet happily began to show him around the shop, directing his attention to various framed photographs which might work especially well as romantic gifts - the close-up bud of a red rose, two swallows entwined in flight, a couple’s joined hands in silhouette against a sunset’s orange and gold. Not only that, but she kept up a lively patter of information that proved just what a sponge she had been for all of the information Emma had told her so far about her process, materials, and subject matter. Violet answered the mayor’s questions nearly as well as Emma herself could have done, and it pleased Emma more than she could say, thinking that not only had she helped someone in need of a job, but that she had managed to find someone with the pep and sweetness they needed out front, all the engaging personality she herself often fought to project, as well as a genuine interest in the art itself.

By the time Violet had shown Walsh all the way around the store cheerily, the mayor had a selected photo in hand once they returned to the counter and Emma was marvelling at how lucky she had been to find such a natural saleswoman along with all of Violet’s other positive traits. The red rose picture Walsh had selected seemed a touch obvious, but then, who was she to judge? She had chosen it to crop and display as she had because its blatant appeal almost guaranteed it would sell. They weren’t even officially open yet, and this was her second painting sold. If this could keep up, she might not have as hard a road making her gallery succeed as she had anticipated.

As she rang up the purchase and ran the mayor’s card, Violet carefully and efficiently wrapped the frame as she had been shown. Walsh grinned broadly the whole time as her new assistant prattled on. “You’ve really saved me a long, drawn out search with this, ladies. And Marjorie will love it too. Plus, it was a chance to keep business local. Your gallery is going to be a great addition for Storybrooke, just wait and see.”

“I certainly hope so,” Emma replied, a pleasantly warm glow of pride in her chest as she did so.

“You just give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help out,” he reminded again as he headed out the door with a wave. “It is part of my job, after all.”

When he was gone, Emma found that they really had accomplished nearly all that she had planned for the day. With heartfelt gratitude, she sent Violet off a bit early, promising that she was just going to lock up and make an early night of it herself as well. No need to tell the younger woman that she was going to be picked up at five like a kid after daycare for her own safety.

Violet hadn’t been gone but a few minutes before Emma had all in order and was gathering her things to leave, true to her word. She made sure the lights were out in the back office, that all was in its proper place, and was just bending to gather her things from under the counter, when she heard the door open once more, its bell chiming in announcement. Standing straight again, she had begun to speak before even seeing the person who had entered. “I’m sorry, but we’re not open for business yet. I was just leaving for the day, and - “ but the rest of her polite dismissal died on her tongue when she recognized the person who had arrived - a face she had hoped never to see again.

“Well, seeing as I’m already here, you’ll just have to make an exception, won’t you?” The question was taut and dangerous, hardly a question at all, though phrased as such. Every nerve in Emma’s body stood on end in response. Her limbs took on the same sort of wary motionlessness they had years ago, like a rabbit going statue-still in hopes of evading a predator’s notice, yet ready to dart away the moment an opening appeared.

Vic Franken hadn’t darkened her path again after she’d paid him off for her safety and peace of mind once he found her in Boston. Emma had hoped that fragile truce and space would hold, despite his breach of parole, but her former “guardian” never had been particularly wise, and he was eerily apt to return to what he knew, what was easiest, particularly when he was desperate. Emma wet her lips nervously and attempted to keep breathing calmly, steadily, focused on taking in any weakness she might be able to use to her own benefit. The past six or seven years had not been kind to him by the looks of it. Always tall and wiry, Franken appeared almost unhealthily gaunt, with dark shadows under eyes that were still as sharp and wild, darting quickly about the gallery space, to her, and back again. His clothes were worn and wrinkled, his hair stood on end in places, and he was moving closer, coming to stand just on the other side of the counter - much nearer than Emma could handle without her knees going a bit watery in spite of the fact that she wasn’t 13 anymore and she had every right to order him out of her place of business, whether he thought so or not.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” she managed to say coolly, her voice only quavering slightly, for which she was grateful. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, intending to look serious, but also hoping to hold herself together as best she could.

“Damn it!” he howled, the loud exclamation ringing in the air between them as his large hand slammed down on the counter, rattling the surface with a bang, and causing Emma to shrink backward against her best effort to hold her ground. “You aren’t so high and mighty that you can just shove me out! I put a roof over you head, and you owe me for it! I’m not leaving ‘til I’m good an’ ready!”

At that, Emma regained herself through sheer outrage alone. This monster had made her childhood miserable, and she wasn’t about to have him barge in and take anything else from her. Standing taller and tipping her chin up to face him squarely, Emma’s spine returned to her after the shock of his appearance, while her hand scrambled carefully through her things beneath the countertop. She hoped Franken wouldn’t notice what she was doing before she could lay hands on the pocketknife she knew was somewhere in her purse. Granted, that wasn’t much of a weapon, but she wasn’t going to face him without any sort of defense - not ever again.

An eerie sort of calm washed over the man for a moment then, as if he and Emma were locked in a stalemate and her facing him steadily had given him pause. His exacting gaze continued to take in the large main room of her shop, and Emma held her breath, finally feeling her fingertips graze the handle she was searching for at the bottom of her purse. She knew better than to drop her guard; his quiet hesitation was like a hurricane’s eye, the calm before the gale began to batter and howl once more. Grasping her prize, Emma pulled it free and flicked it open, not wanting to show her hand too soon and yield the element of surprise if she had to wield it. 

As Franken returned his focus to her, an unnatural almost proud look crossed his features, as out of place as it was, particularly when an attempt at some sort of paternal smile twisted his visage. “Seems like you’ve done alright for yourself since I saw you last, Emma,” he finally murmured in a cajoling tone.

She snorted; regardless of how dangerous it might be to antagonize him, she couldn’t even pretend they were on terms to make friendly small talk. “If I am doing well, it’s no thanks to you,” she retorted bitterly.

Franken’s nostrils flared as he reeled back to his full height, the calm attempt at appealing to her good side shattered in an instant. “Ungrateful wench!” he hollered, eyes bulging wide as he swung a hand wildly, catching the edge of a large, framed portrait on the wall behind him and knocking it to the floor, where it crashed on its face and sent glass shattering outward in a wide spray. “After I took you in, fed you, clothed you, saw that you had a roof over your head? Now you’re too good to return the favor?”

Emma gasped in dismay at the largest piece in her gallery’s fall and destruction, but was quick enough to dodge his flailing hand when Franken reached out in an attempt to grab her shoulder and haul her close. She was just fast enough to evade him, thankfully. She might be fully grown now instead of a scrawny, underfed kid, but she still didn’t need to find out what he would do if he got a good hold on her. 

“Took me in?” she spat back, practically seething in anger that he would dare pretend he had actually provided any sort of genuine care. “Is that what you did?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Emma finally raised the small blade before her, as if warning him to keep his distance, even if there wasn’t much more space behind the counter for her to put between them. “Which part am I supposed to be grateful for, hmm?” she barrelled on, now that the gates were open, her words kept spilling out. “The beatings that left me so sore I could barely sit or walk for days afterward? The hours I spent locked in the pitch dark cellar as punishment for my demons? The shame and fear you made sure I never forgot from the moment I crossed the threshold of your house until the day I got away from it?” The small pocket knife wavered along with her hand, and her vision blurred with hot tears of frustration, but Emma didn’t falter. “Tell me what exactly I should be thanking you for?”

With a wild growl, he whirled away from her, grabbing frames from their hooks and hurling them against the walls or to the floor, knocking a large easel to the ground and smashing his foot through the canvas print it had held. He was on as much a tear as a toddler having a fit, but imminently more dangerous. Rounding on her again, his eyes were wild, and if possible, Emma would have sworn he was foaming at the mouth.

It was then, in desperation to save the work he hadn’t already destroyed, that she acted without thinking clearly and charged out from behind the counter she had carefully kept between them - so focused on making him leave that she left herself vulnerable by coming too close. “Get out!” Emma cried, mindless of his larger build and out of control demeanor; the threat he posed flying from her head as her work - the pictures she’d poured her heart and soul into, and the inventory she needed to keep her business afloat - clattered to the ground, breaking and being trashed before her eyes. She might still have the small blade gripped in her sweaty fingers, but she wasn’t thinking about defense as much as ridding herself of his presence before he destroyed her means of livelihood. “You have no right to anything from me! You need to get out of here before I call the police and tell them you’re in town!”

Franken whirled from the far wall where he’d been wreaking havoc and instead turned towards her seething with unrestrained rage. There were many times in her years growing up when Emma had feared that this man was unstable; dangerously obsessed with her “unholy” visions and driving them from her by any means necessary, and that his volatile fanaticism would injure her beyond what she could heal from or survive. Emma had spent far longer than was fair, wasted too much of her life, waiting to be out from under his thumb, no longer catching her breath and ducking a fist sure to fly or a bruising belt buckle if she said too much or let the wrong words slip. It had been long enough now though that she wasn’t guarding every thought and impulse, and she didn’t stop to second guess or recognize the danger as she took her stand. Willing to defend this little space she’d made for herself, even if it meant facing the monster from her past head-on and all alone.

The violence that twinkled maliciously in Franken’s deep, dark gaze should have been a warning, but Emma was too riled up and determined that this time she wasn’t backing down, wasn’t letting this pathetic excuse for a man take anything more from her. Where a younger, more wary version of herself would have shrunk back and put space between them, Emma instead pressed forward capitalizing on the man’s momentary shock. She wasn’t sure what she intended to try next if he didn’t move, but her body seemed determined to herd him out the door, with or without the full thought and cooperation of her racing brain.

Barely a moment’s warning, where a low, evil chuckle rumbled from his throat, evidencing anything but humor, was the only signal Emma got, and the next thing she knew, Franken had struck so fast she didn’t even see the movement - like a copperhead concealed in dank marsh water, having already bitten a person before one even knew it was there. Her head whipped to the side with the impact of his fist shooting out and making contact, leaving her ears ringing and her lungs gasping for air.

Emma struggled to keep her feet beneath her, even as the world around her tilted sideways. A wailing inside her head like sirens brought back all the times she had fallen before this monster as a child, curled tightly in a ball to protect herself from the blows he’d rained down on her for the smallest imagined infractions or the involuntary glimpses of prescient knowledge she couldn’t help possessing - they’d been part of who she was even then, as much a her hair or eye color, and they refused to stay hidden. Emma had attempted to - for all she was worth - having immediately learned speaking of what she saw, no matter how important it might seem, only earned her more suffering and degradation. 

Flailing her arms, she managed to catch the side of the counter and steady herself before she went tumbling to the floor. Franken was right there, coming for her again with his arm raised, no doubt reveling in the same sort of drunken power he had missed while the inexorable familiarity of the old, horrible pattern clutched Emma by the throat with fear. 

This time she wasn’t having it. She’d fight him even if it broke every bone in her body. With a cry of pain soaked in years of suffering unheard, Emma pushed off the counter, leading with the sharp pocket knife and sheer desperation, she meant to make her own mark this time. “Leave me alone!” she bellowed, as she took her first step to meet him.

But, despite his own seeming haze of madness and unsteady mind, Vic Franken was still quick and powerful as a gator and just as mean. Much like he’d always been, he was too large a foe for her to fell unprepared and without proper defenses. His meaty paw caught her wrist with crushing strength, until her fingers were forced to release her blade and it clattered to the floor and skittered away uselessly as she felt her tendons and bones ground painfully beneath his grip. 

He pulled her close to his face until their noses nearly touched, as if trying to understand why he couldn’t make her cower the way he once had. Emma could just begin to hear the blessed sound of sirens in the distance that she prayed were coming their way. Thank goodness she had shouldered the extra cost of hidden cameras and a security company who monitored their feed continuously. When he’d begun to tear her gallery apart it would have been obvious help was needed though she’d had no time to call for it.

“You think this is over?” he hissed angrily. “I’m not finished with you…far from it. You won’t be rid of me until I say so. Don’t you forget it.”

Flinging Emma away like a discarded ragdoll, she stumbled with the force of it, tripping on the debris that littered the floor and slamming back into the counter that had saved her minutes before. Franken fled out the door and was gone, and she slumped to the floor - for the moment too dizzy and aching to get up again. Trying to catch her breath and make her surroundings stop whirling around her, Emma breathed slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her head to lean groggily against the smooth, cool surface until she could gather her bearings.

The siren sounds drew nearer still, for which she was so thankful she could cry, but then she heard the door swing open once more, and she lurched frantically to attention, struggling to get her feet under her for fear that he had come back to finish her off. What she saw instead almost started her laughing hysterically, having never imagined this particular visitor’s appearance would send relief washing over her.

“Emma?” Ruby Jones’ voice was shocked and disbelieving, even concerned, all rolled into one as her heels click-clacked right across all the broken glass towards her before she crouched at her side, fingers already gingerly dabbing at the trickle of blood from the broken skin at her temple and then holding an honest-to-goodness monogrammed handkerchief to the spot. “What happened here?”

Emma reached out to still Ruby’s hand, shaking her head with as little force as possible and still wincing, “More who than what…” she managed, still trying to fully gather her wits and fighting for her speech not to sound slurred. She swallowed, wetting her lips and pressing on. “It was Franken….my old foster father…remember?” Ruby nodded, mouth and eyes both gaping wide at her. Emma sighed, “Thank - thank goodness it sounds like those sirens are close… don’t wanna tell this all more than once.”

“Vic Franken?” Ruby growled, her wide eyes narrowing. She looked for a second as if she might have clawed the man’s eyes out herself if she had been here just a little sooner. Emma again had to choke back out of place hilarity at the other woman’s defense of her. Rose would have loved it; she was just trying not to get whiplash. “What did that bastard think he was doing coming here?” Ruby snapped out.

Emma chuckled lightly, squinting against the way even that made her head hurt. Somehow Ruby’s fiery temper made her heart feel a little lighter. This nightmare was still dogging her, but the sheer absurdity of someone she’d have sworn even two days ago couldn’t stand her being ready to fight for her, lightened the dark cloud that had settled over her. Giving the former debutante a mischievous, if weary, side eye, she teased. “Whoo, Miss Ruby! That’s quite a mouth you’ve got there for a nice Southern belle! What would your Mama say?!”

Ruby rolled her eyes at the teasing with a dismissive snort, even as she let Emma grip her forearms and help her to stand again, holding on until sure she was steady. “Well, first she would have told me to walk on by and leave you where you fell, so clearly I don’t much care what she has to say.”

Emma began to nod her acknowledgement that what Ruby said was true, then quickly thought better of it at the shot of pain that lanced through her. 

Ruby shrugged, offering a crooked smile. “Besides,” she added ruefully, “Mama despaired of me a long time ago.”

Emma drew in a sharp breath, a few sadly clarifying things about Killian and Rose’s sister instantly becoming clear. 

“Now,” Ruby continued, red fingernail raised to point at Emma authoritatively, “you are gonna report this sorry excuse of a man so they can nail him to the wall, and then we’re gonna get you patched up, okay?”

Emma didn’t get to respond further as they were interrupted by what seemed to be the entire Storybrooke police force’s arrival just then, with a worried David Nolan leading the charge. She’d give her former defender credit. Though he looked half beside himself when he first burst through the door, his deputies flanking him, David quickly saw that the perpetrator was gone and, while she was injured and shaken, Emma was no longer in immediate danger and had someone at her side. With an almost visible effort, he reigned in his protectiveness and brought his anxiety back under stern professional control. 

Turning, he began capably barking out orders to his fellow officers - not unkindly, but feeling the urgency and not at all wanting to allow Franken to escape and cause this sort of damage again. Through the buzzing that seemed to have taken up residence in her brain, Emma heard David directing a perimeter to be set up to keep Franken from getting out of town, with an APB being put out with Franken’s name and description to all possible news outlets. He also organized the coordination of his people coming in to gather evidence and block off the space outside on the walk so gawkers couldn’t  make their way in and disturb anything that could aid in their search. 

Though there were an overwhelming number of people swarming all about inside the shop, Emma was grateful that only David himself came over to ask a few questions of her. Ruby had led her, wordless as she had ever seen the youngest Jones sibling, over to one of the tall stools at the counter, coaxing her into gingerly sitting down, being kind enough even to avert her gaze and hold back her own questions when Emma leaned slightly over, her still-spinning head against Ruby’s side as she attempted to swallow her nausea back down her throat. Ruby just rubbed a hand across Emma’s shoulder blades gently and stood there as steady and calm as a pillar of marble.

David stooped to look into Emma’s eyes with his own careful concern as he reached them. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?” he asked promptly, his words clipped and tight, making the strain he was still under to remain calm and professional all too clear. Emma was fairly certain he already knew the answer anyway. If she tried to shake her head and deny his suspicions, her world would only keep spinning more frantically.

Just barely meeting his anxious stare with her eyes slitted narrowly open, she managed a half-convincing, “Calm down, Nolan. We all know I’ve had worse.”

The sheriff’s lips pressed together into a thin line, his whole expression pulled taut enough that Emma couldn’t even gauge whether anger, guilt, or fear was playing the largest role.  His arms crossed firmly over his broad chest as he stood back to his full height, sensing that hovering would not make her any more agreeable, but he didn’t cease watching her, not allowing her to shut him out. “That isn’t funny,” he ground out, low enough that in the bustle around the shop only she, Ruby, and himself heard the admonishment, yet she felt chastened all the same. “You are clearly not safe, even out in the open, in broad daylight, and what if the security company hadn’t called us soon enough, if Ruby hadn’t walked in when she did? Emma, you could have been - “

Her eyes shot up to meet his savagely, knowing the rest of his sentence and not wanting it spoken aloud. Despite the ringing in her ears and rolling of her stomach, her fierce look froze the words on David’s tongue. She’d traveled so far, worked so hard to be more than the helpless, pitied victim of that man’s abuse - and she wasn’t letting him make her one again.

Before any of them could speak further, or the tension between them could fully dissipate, the door flung back on its hinges wildly as someone else rushed into her gallery. “Emma!” Killian’s unmistakable voice called out, cracking with worry on the second syllable, even as David moved aside slightly so his friend could see her for himself.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and in moments Jones was across the room and on his knees before her, reaching out as if to pull her close, then jolting back as he took in the trickle of blood and the bruising that had already begun to color the side of her face. Looking wracked with indecision, he simply held his place before her, as near as he dared, and breathed out a choked, “What happened, Swan? Are - are you alright?”

“She will be,” Ruby offered with much needed certainty from beside Emma, laying her hand on her brother’s shoulder, as if to steady him and remind them both that she was there.  It was new from her - for both of them - but her typical self assurance was bolstering in the fraught moment and incredibly welcome.

Killian finally released a full breath, his forehead falling to rest upon her knee, and his fingers reflexively clutching her denim-clad leg for a moment as he trembled with relief. After a moment to gather himself, he looked up into Emma’s face from where he crouched before her, eyes swimming with unasked questions and the fear - still all too close to the surface - that he had nearly lost her.

Emma didn’t have the strength to hold back, not in that tremulous moment when she was hurt and wanted to scream at the unfairness of everything falling apart around her. She grasped his t-shirt at the shoulder, comforted by his warm solidity beneath, and ran a hand over his brow, amazed that he was there and was so intensely concerned - and that she allows herself the luxury of that - before trailing her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “It was Franken,” she murmured lowly, just wanting it all out, like poison drawn from a wound. “He was here, mostly after money, I think…” she paused. “But as you can see,” she gestured to her face, “that clearly wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving a souvenir for old times’ sake.”

She could see the angry tic in Killian’s jaw, working to restrain the fury he felt, and though his was quieter, it seemed to run even deeper and even harder to contain than David’s had before it.

At that, David broke into the moment. “Killian, why don’t you take Emma to Storybrooke General to be checked out? I can swing by there later, when all this is under control, if I have any questions that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He waved to the crime scene which her gallery had become as he spoke.

Killian’s “Aye” and terse nod were all that voiced his agreement to the sheriff’s suggestion, but he stood and offered Emma a hand; balance and support to pull herself up if she chose to take it. Ruby squeezed her hand, promising she would check on her later as well.

She wanted to argue, to say the fuss wasn’t necessary, but as she stood and then wavered unsteadily, she knew there was no point. She merely took Killian’s arm and leaned on him wordlessly without a fight. None of the three people surrounding her would let her close call be brushed aside - not this time. For now, she accepted the concern and decided she’d give herself a minute in which she didn’t have to be so strong.

    *~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

A few hours later Killian was leading Emma from the waiting room of the small local hospital, walking and as close behind her as humanly possible without getting their feet tangled and making her fall. She wanted to tell him that she’d be fine, to take her back to her car and then go on home, but the determined and independent core she had built up, the one which usually allowed her to offer those placating refrains so easily seemed irretrievably weakened. She couldn’t push him away. Where she would usually deny or ignore whatever had shaken her, Emma couldn’t this time. After all she had accomplished and how far she had traveled, after how long she had denied herself and stayed as far away as she could, it hadn’t been enough - not long enough, not far enough - her past and its monster had still found her and attacked.

So she didn’t want to need Killian Jones’ warm and steady palm at the small of her back, the comforting heat and gentle, guiding pressure easily felt through the thin material of her cotton blouse, but need it she did. “Come Lass, the truck’s over here,” he murmured, soothing and low near her ear, leaning in to speak for her ears alone as he steered her toward the corner of the lot where he had parked. 

There really hadn’t been much anyone could do for the busted lip and rapidly blackening eye she was sporting, other than cautioning her to ice it often and to take aspirin as needed for the pain, but they had made sure nothing was broken in her nose, cheekbones, or jaw. She had also been cautioned, since she’d suffered some nausea at first, that if she became dizzy again or threw up, she should return for further examination. She hadn’t presented with a concussion, but one might sometimes show up later, and they wouldn’t want to miss it if so.

The doctor who had looked her over and the nurse were both concerned about sending Emma home alone; they wanted her observed and awakened every couple of hours. At Killian’s assurance that he would stay with her and do just as they suggested, however, they had relented and she had finally been released.

It wasn’t until he was helping her up into the high seat of his truck’s cab and moving to shut the door that she finally forced herself to protest - it was too much, he didn’t need to put himself out.

Killian was having none of it. He wouldn’t even let her finish, interrupting her protests in a heavy handed way she hadn’t yet seen from him. The solemnity of his vow was irrefutable when he swore that “This time, Love, you won’t be alone until that bastard is caught. Not until this is over.” His eyes burned into her like twin blue flames. “You are too precious for me to do otherwise.”

As much as the fervent emotion from him stole her breath, frustration mounted within her right alongside it. She’d spent so much of her early life beholden to one person or another, moved and driven by the whims of Fate or the system. She didn’t want to be a responsibility or a chore to anyone - not even someone honorable, who took his role as seriously as Killian. Especially not to Killian. She shook her head angrily, biting back tears. “This is stupid! I’ll just go…”

Jones didn’t even hesitate. “Then I’m going too… to the end of the Earth, if that’s where you’re headed.”

She was swiping at the errant tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer, wincing when she got too close to the tender area near her eye socket and sniffing back worse sobs as she beseeched him in last resort. “Why? Killian, why would you do that? So you can get yourself killed trying to protect me?!?”

But he merely shook his head, leaning into her space, pressing his forehead to hers and his warm breath caressing her cheek. “I’m not going to let that happen, Swan. We’ve both lost enough. I’m with you now - no matter what - and we’re going to stand and fight.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @jrob64 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx @teamhook @revanmeetra @iamstartraveller776 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @ultraluckycatnd @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @belovedcreation @lenfaz

[chronotsr]

No. 1 - G1, The Steading of the Hill Giant Chief (July 1978)

Author(s): Gary Gygax Artist(s): Erol Otus, Dave C. Sutherland III (cover), David A. Trampier Level range: Average of 9, preferably 5+ players Theme: Standard Swords and Sorcery Major re-releases: G1-3 Against the Giants, GDQ1-7 Queen of the Spiders, Against the Giants: The Liberation of Geoff, Dungeon #197, Tales from the Yawning Portal

I'm not sure if G1-G3 are the most remastered adventures of all time, but it's gotta be competitive. I think Tomb of Horrors might have it beat, but I haven't counted. The 4e conversion [the Dungeon #197 one] is really weird in particular because…4e feels like the edition least interested in the legacy of DND? It was boldly doing its own thing. A good quality, actually.

Anyway, it's time to slag off* on a beloved adventure. Note, I am using the earliest copy of G1 I can find, which is from waaaay later when D3 was complete. I apologize.

*And by slag off, I mean "be critical of at all". In practice, this module is actually showing some unusual acumen compared to its contemporaries.

EDIT: I forgot to mention a rather important thing when this was made live -- note the title there! We are officially in ADND land now, so put away your little brown booklets and switch over to the fuck-off awesome player's handbook with the iconic Moloch statue!

Somehow I had gotten my whole life at this point never really…understanding what this structure was supposed to look like? It looks like this.

I honestly think exterior shots of dungeons are critically underrated. Handouts are amazing and being able to flash the back cover art to safely show the party "like this" is actually great, I deeply wish that….any? of the previous modules had done that? I think the only one that did was Tsojconth. Weirdly, the interior drawing is very subtly different. Look at how the logs face:

Not a huge deal but, a kind of weird inconsistency that top one looks like a stockade and the bottom one looks like a log cabin. Side note, we know that the long dimension of this is using 210 feet tall logs, which is to say, the size of an average redwood. These are some big fuck-off trees -- which could be a very interesting detail about the local area.

Now the setup is pretty simple. You were hired to go beat up the giants because they've been raiding the local humans, figure out why they're raiding, and comeback posthaste. The locals have kitted you out with horses, guides, maps, et c -- but no compensation, they have simply omitted a finder's fee (cheap bastards). Also, if you fail, they'll execute you. With friends like these, who needs Giants?

Gary starts with some mild railroading (you accepted the job already, you are already kitted out, you already walked to a nearby cave, you waited til dusk to approach, you notice two guards are missing, and the cave is guaranteed to be moderately hidden. Sure, whatever, I'm going to ignore that if I run this tho. Gary notifies us of a few critical details:

Don't run this stock, that's immoral

Any surviving giants will flee to G2 if they have the opportunity (which, kind of inherently punishes clever play that avoids combat?)

There is a 2% chance per round that the wooden structure will be lit on fire due to chronic rain (why is this a dice roll??)

If you will permit me a tangent, player arson is truly the bane of interesting scenarios everywhere. Whenever a player wonders, "why are all the GM's dungeons underground or in stonework buildings?", it's because doing anything else invites arson as the default and best answer to all problems. Magic items are fireproof and most metal items will not get hot enough to be destroyed, so very often the best solution is to burn the place to the ground and loot it the next day. So, yeah. No wood buildings. Gary's fix is to have all the giants flee into the basement, then waste a week of the PC's time for daring to use arson. Kind of sucks!

Tangent complete.

Here's some random interesting bits:

Gary explicitly states that you can pass yourself off as hill giant kids, which is extremely funny. Minus the implicit child murder.

Naturally there are giant moms doing giant housemaid shit in several rooms. Presumably they have giant curlers too.

The secret door is, literally just a doorway covered by a pelt. I have to hand it to them, that'd trip up most players in 2024 AND make them feel stupid for not figuring it out!

The big reveal that Eclavdra the Drow is secretly behind it all is so lightly teased that it feels downright tasteful.

A giant that uses a ballista as a crossbow (based) and spears for arrows (also based) -- between the prevalence of lightning spears and greatarrows, one starts to think of a certain famous video game. Genuinely I think it'd be a fun exercise one day, for someone who is more knowledgeable than me about Japanese fantasy roleplaying culture, to talk about how anglophone fantasy works made their way into Japan and were interpreted.

One of the cloud giants has hidden a sentient giant slaying sword that speaks all the giant languages, it feels like there's a hell of a story going on there that is only alluded to!

To my knowledge, this is the first official depiction of an orc in DND? Which implies that Gary is team pig-orcs, which is cool. Frankly, I love porcine orcs, or even better just pigfolk in general, they're great.

I think it is actually a rather bold early stance for Gary to hold that, even here in 1978, Chaotic aligned creatures are not automatically friends. Granted, that's how it is in Elric, so it's not THAT bold, but clearly everyone else missed the memo. The orcs are willing to side with you at least in the short-run, and in our previous modules it was very rare to have groups of chaotic-aligned creatures fighting one another. It was always just personal beefs. In fact, the overall theme of G1 so far is that despite the boxy-ass dungeon design, there's already a command of naturalism that even modern dungeons really struggle with. Factionalism truly is the gift that keeps on giving for the GM!

So the big reveal internally to G1 (just think of that -- a reveal internally to G1, and externally to the GDQ supermodule -- we're already getting pacing!) is that the orc slaves have rebelled. And -- hey -- good for them. There's also a kind of…built-in companion refill system going on here? So in oldish DND the way it works is, the expectation is the party is not just 5 guys with swords. You've got companions to help fight, and you've got hirelings to do other stuff (test suspected traps, if you're evil). And you can only hire so many of these guys from town, but attrition is going to happen. So the modules simply provides, automatic replacements should you negotiate worth a quarter of a shit. A dwarf slave here, an orc slave there. Maybe a giant dissenter if you're really clever. One of the potential "rewards" you can get is more dudes to throw at problems.

More interesting bits

There is, what I can only really call an abortive idea going on here where there's a scary temple in the basement? But no one worships there and no information is provided. It is merely a fucked up altar. I think I vaguely recall that it's retconned Tharizdun in one of the remakes? They always retcon things to be Tharizdun. Busy man, Tharzy.

Gary, Gary no. Stop it. Stop this 78 guys bullshit. I thought we had established that giant rooms of giant clumps of guys was bad. I know you have terminal Napoleonics brain but stop.

Wait, Steading is a noun? I always thought it was a verb. Yknow, like "Steading those hill giants", taking 'em down a notch. Apparently, a Steading is a small farm -- same etymology as Homestead. I guess mark that as our first Gygaxism?

Our second Gygaxism is gill, which is "a quarter pint of an alcoholic drink", which is to say a few mouthfuls

Always end your adventures with weird, ominous non-diegetic text. On the flip-side, absolutely do not do what the adventure does, and end on a teleporter that takes you to the next dungeon. That is the worst option.

Anyway, that's the whole Hill Giant situation. Honestly, it's better than I remembered, but in proud module tradition up to this point it gets weirdly filler-y in the basement. There's just something about basements that makes dungeon designers stop giving a shit, I swear. I do need to give the man his due, even though he was a shitass person: Gygax wrote an 11 page module that is of noticeably higher killer-to-filler ratio than any of his contemporaries. G1 is better than any of its predecessors, pound for pound. It is way, way shorter which is I suppose a plus to me and a minus to others, but -- there is a clear internal logic to this place that is tragically missing from (say) The Dwarven Glory. And that internal logic is the beginning of good adventure design. Anyway, we have two fun tidbits to discuss before we end for the day.

First up, we have an of-the-time account of events in Dragon #19! It turns out that in Origins '78 they played G1-G3's prototype. The account is of the winners (mostly West Virginians, a few Michiganders), who used their magic extremely liberally to hide what they were doing as well as to scout. They did opt to light the place on fire, good for them! If you want to check this out, it's on page 3. I will mention G2 and G3 here as relevant later.

Second up, there's a weird interquel hiding in Dungeon #198! Hanging out as an informal G1.5 is "The Warrens of the Stone Giant Thane!" I will not review it in full because my understanding of 4e is, basically just skimming the PHB and reading the DMG, but essentially the Stone Giants are hypothetically aloof and not particularly loyal to their Fire Giant superiors, but someone gave them The Rock That Makes You Crazy and so now they are. Smash the rock!

Man, map design in the 4e era was so fucking bad. It looks fine, but like, this is four circles. And downstairs is, of course, cave as far as the eye can see. Aren't stone giants supposed to be skilled carvers? Anyway, If you feel like G2 would be too big of a jump mechanically compared to G1, this exists. I'm sure you could use it if you liked, and certainly there is a Genre of Grognard who would be kinda tickled at the thought of finding "lost content" for el classico GDQ.

Next week, we cover G2, which was also in July. So was G3! They're triplets!

[clovercoin]

YAY SEPTEMBER, CLOVERCOIN IS BACK!

[ Original Patreon Post ] Phew, almost forgot the life updates after doing all those art packs in the other post. So let's catch up with what's happening with CloverCoin! Life has been very very busy since I got back from my mom's funeral. Our dog Junior (rottie) had a previous elbow injury that wasn't healing over and when I got back home we decided to take him to the vet for a second look since the pain meds they gave us ran out. Turns out Junior had big swollen ball of cancer in his elbow and he was never going to regain function in that arm again. He was in so much pain we were really apprehensive on what the right course of action was. But the vets all worked with us since they knew Junior so well from all his previous visits, with their help we managed to get an extra fast amputation surgery scheduled for the infected arm. It was extremely expensive but it gave our dog immediate pain relief while we figured what treatment plan we were going to do next. Originally we all thought it was bone cancer and that he would likely need to be put down to avoid further pain in the very near future even with his amputation. With further testing and investigation of his cancer arm, we found out it was actually a type of blood cancer of his white blood cells. We all assumed if it's blood and fluid that must mean it's everywhere, right? We were wrong AGAIN! Wither further scans we found no further signs of cancer growth in his body, lymph nodes, or organs. With this new information we made the decision as a family to pursue oncologist for Junior and get him chemo / cancer treatments. It drained the rest of our savings account that we've been working so hard for to buy a house next summer... But Junior himself has completely bounced back to the happy dog he's always been. He's eating again, learning how to run and play on his one foreleg, and just excited to still be here. So while it did cost all of my savings, I have to say it's been worth it. With his reviewed case, he went from less than 6 months to live to possibly living 2-3+ more years now. So we're all so happy and grateful to still have our service boy still with us. Now that we're on a routine with Junior and his chemo treatments, I'm also getting back to work on my end! CloverCoin Patreon is back online for September 2024! We're so excited to see so many patrons stuck around and how excited you all are for more art! Thank you!!! I'm currently working on setting up a Bigcartel shop page with all of our stickers and postcard goods. I'll be sure to announce the shop's grand opening here soon as it's all ready. Thank you so much for all of my patrons testing out merch every month with me so we can make this possible! Last big to-do on my list now is that my current desktop Cintiq is not working for me. We had an original Cintiq 22 HD from 2014. But that poor thing died last year. We ordered a new tablet on super sale from amazon but.... We're very unhappy with the product and it doesn't work with my desk or work station. So we'll be taking it down and trying to resell it to get our money back. However this means I still do not have a desktop tablet to work with for online streams and recordings. REALLY BUMS ME OUT! I'm very fortunate that I still have my ipad and it's been working great. So I'm not totally without a tablet for work. But Prov and I will now be making an effort to replace my Cintiq tablet with a new one maybe before the year is over. Ouch my poor savings account, it's already taken such a beating from all the vet bills and now I have to replace very expensive hardware? yuck! So... Lots of money being spent. But overall we're very lucky and we're so happy. I'm just so grateful to have my happy dog recovering really well. I'm glad my ipad works great even after being beat up for past 7-8 years?? Woah! Good job lil buddy. Just... A lot has gone wrong this year. A lot of bad shit has happened. And Prov and I are so damn lucky to be here and have everything we do. So I'm going to keep working VERY HARD to get all this updated, shop posted, commissions completed, and make back every single dime of my savings!!! OR SO HELP ME! >:0 Thanks everyone for sticking it out while we're figuring out every bump in the road. We really appreciate all your patience and kindness. You're all the best and I can't wait to share even more art with you all! AJD . ART

[theghostbunnie]

Just to preference alot of this is my interpretations/HCs/OC and very little of it is cannonical character analysis:

So her name is Penelope Esther Goldman but she just goes by her middle name Esther, as a funny little nod to know SK and Neil are both named Neil, she shares a name with Mrs Priss and I think I had them go to the same collage or something, might have to do the math on their ages again to see if that lines up

(I HC Carl's last name is Pasternak and Neil's is both, hyphenated.)

She's a incredibly intelligent scientist with extensive knowledge in biology, robotics, chemistry, ect ect. Esther doesn't really emote or exspress her emotions in her voice or face much at all, or well.

Carl when they first met was smitten, he was a groovy goofy goober and still is. He'd do that walrus thing with breadsticks in public at restaurants. He'd skate around with a fanny pack dancing to bee gees. Convince her to go to parties and she'd just be pleasantly content to stand there as he's like "that's fine I can dance enough for the both of us/pos" She had to pass a first aid course and he guided her arms and taught her you can keep the proper rhythm by singing Stayin Alive. He was just really persistent and really sweet and he grew on her okay 😭

Esther didn't really have a respect for philosophy because she didn't really grasp it's value or importance. As she grew to respect him more that sortaa changed.

They eventually got married and really kick-started both of their careers along the way.

(cw miscarriage implications for this next part) Neil's a rainbow baby that happened after several pregnancy losses. It may have been one of the things to strain their marriage but what really ended up doing it in was just the simple fact of life people change and grow apart and can fall out of love so now they can't really interact with each other for long. Their differences and flaws now clash and they butt heads instead of being complimentary.

I'm a firm believer the episode where each camper takes care of an egg they were reflecting their own parents. Carl is embarrassing but he's almost the exact opposite of a smotherer that Neil was showcased to be. His overall parenting style is like he's way more concerned about being Neil's friend than anything.

Esther is the one he's mirroring, here. She treats him like he's fragile almost. She gives him specific everything, down to his bedsheet thread count, knows how to cater to his living needs inside and out. Esther struggles to connect with anyone emotionally, though so her affection in the verbal department isn't as maintained. This never really bothers Neil, it doesn't register as "smothering" to him how much she shelters or caters to him. Because this isn't a kid interested in joining sports he could get hurt in and likes everything in a specific way anyways.

She's more aware socially than Carl is and knows how to not embarrass him in general.

Esther is Neil's biggest role model he wants to be just like her and is mad when he isn't, when he fails to be. He's upset even physically the only thing they share are the eyes. ((Regularly you can't even see Esther's I couldn't help myself in the art above from making them visible/forgot on the cc one but it's supposed to be a bit on "eyes are a window to the soul" thing and she's just that closed off and unreadable. Really only has a soft spot for Neil))

His mother is incredibly intelligent, and just seems so collected to him all the time.. and importantly not over emotional like he can be (his temper specifically.) and ESPECIALLY how emotional his dad can be.

I just love!! Character parallels!!!! How Carl is this emotional goofy person who joked around and danced and played music everywhere and Esther got regarded as "cold" and stiff and Neil is just both of them bc he's so smart but he's also silly. Like he plays video games and gets passionate over little things and allthat and it embarrasses him secretly sometimes, he wishes he could chill out and be like his mother. But the parts of him that reflect his father have always been the parts Esther always loved the most and found endearing. He doesn't know that though.

Neil to an extent even secretly believes if he didn't have his big brain and academic achievements him and his mother wouldn't have this close relationship because this is their shared quality. This is what makes her proud. He's so scared to lose that or disappoint her.

At the same time it doesn't stop him from pinning his parents against each other a bit from time to time. As he knows Esther's go-to move is to spoil him to win.

[concert-bflat]

I suddenly got hit with Kano Brainworms and now I have this Completely Unorganized post and it's gonna be your guys' problems now !! Just saying there is no flow to this whatsoever I just slapped all my points on and called it a day

Just. god I will Never stop thinking about the Tateyama siblings relationship with their younger selves and changing and growing and learning to accept themselves and Kano's. Not doing that. Remaining stagnant.

Like it's Everywhere . (Unfortunately it's been Sooo long since I've read light novel 5 so I don't have any sources to pull from there but I'm sure there's a ton okay)

Yobanashi Decieve is spent tearing down Kano's layers throughout the entire song and what do you find at the end? When he finally admits that he hates all this? Hates himself? What do you find at the center of the Kano Onion? His crying child self. At his core he still believes he is that crying boy, even says it himself "Ah, you never change", he's sneering at his current and past self, because they're the same, they're all the same. He's never moved on from his past habits and weakness. He looks at him and all he has to say is "Ah, you never change" and "Whoops, I screwed up"

Oh but we're not Quite done peeling the Kano Onion yet !! There's still a liiitle more left...

Close-up shot time !! Now you can see in its fullness his weakest moments, he's mocking his own suffering. He smiles and mocks himself, closes his eyes to his own pain and just bows. Throws my laptop

There's also this official art !! I think about this a lot but have never voiced it out before so here we go~

Just. Everyone showing off the wounds that led to their deaths, either with a smile/some enthusiasm or indifference at worst, with a pretty character-telling pose as well. And then fucking Kano, not even focusing on the photoshoot but staring directly at the evidence of his weakest moment, holding it limply, detachedly. Maybe saying that he's starting at it with scorn is too strong a word, his face looks slightly bitter at best, but I'd bet everything that that's what he's feeling.

I don't know just. Everyone around him, whether it's his siblings or the whole god damn Dan, being shown with some form of acceptance of their pasts and traumas, meanwhile Kano's still staring it in the face. Damn, you really don't lie when you say you haven't changed huh?

God my favorite example though, the one that makes me Scream.

Thank you Sidu for this art! I am now on the ground crying.

I'm too lazy to grab them right now but Kido and Seto also have art of themselves with their past selves. Kido fondly pats the head of her younger, insecure self, having growing confident and comfortable in her own skin. Seto holds his past self's hand in something liks solidarity. He doesn't have to be scared anymore. He's becoming the stronger person that he wanted to be.

And Kano?

Ah. well~. He's clinging to his past self, sobbing into his lap while his past self attempts to comfort him. Hm. With growing up you should become someone that your younger self can be proud of, right? Like Kido and Seto. They overcame their shortcomings so they could become proud of who they are today, right? Kano's collapsed in front of his past self.

Guess he didn't really do that, huh?

If anything, he's putting himself even lower than his past self. Maybe he hasn't grown, maybe not even stagnated but rather became worse, just with the same flaws that he had in the past. He didn't change at all, he just sank lower.

Your younger self can attempt to comfort you but didn't you hate yourself back then, too? So what does that make you now? Your younger self looks hunched over and dejected. He's probably just as disappointed as you are.

Ah, and there's text too, right? What does that say?

Mm. (I might have written an incorrect character but this sounds about right I think?) I feel like this was said somewhere else in kagepro, also in regards to Kano, but to be completely honest I totally forgot where. Still though. Uh.. fun! Kano says to himself not words of comfort but assurance that the future will only be more miserable, that he will only hate himself more as time goes on. As if you couldn't already tell with the art itself.

In Yobanashi Decieve, present Kano sees his other self suffering and jeers scornfully. They never changed. Here, past Kano and present Kano suffer together, with present Kano openly suffering if only to himself, clinging to his past hurt for comfort. Together they think, they never will change, they'll only get worse. It'll only get more painful.

Ahem. Just. Ugh! This one piece says so god damn much, and even more when you put it next to Kido's and Seto's. It killed me when I first saw it and still kills me to this day !!! God !

Also I don't have any funny images for this one but. Thinks about. (And I might have some details wrong because again, it's been a while since I've read light novel 5) How he thought he was useless as a child, wondered why he wasn't discarded like a functionally useless object (pretty sure he thought this while his mom threw away a broken tv remote or something?). And then in manga route 2 how he gives his life away as a tool to preserve the others' lives. He has a "use" and he's expending his whole life on it. Like I mean they're gonna die anyway but do you Really have to be like that I Hate you I hate you I h

Like once he has an objective purpose like that he faces it with an easy smile on his face. Bittersweet, yeah. But he does it so god damn willingly. Maybe he's just pretending to take on the role so easily, but still, I can't help but think that he found some comfort in having a direct "use" like this. Even if it just meant his death, for a hopeless cause. If he could just fulfill this purpose, then....

Just the way he smiles at his own demise during that Whole Sequence, even when the remainder of the Dan is Right There.

Just man. Collapses.

Kagepro is all about change and growth and growing up and realizing change and the future really isn't too scary. Meanwhile Kano's stagnant, still sees him as unchanged from his younger self, is too scared to change his manners even if it may help him. No wonder he hates himself. I'm just. Guh, shoves the themes of the narrative in his face Kano Please I'm begging

Like mf he looks content like everyone else in Summertime Record but Are You Really. Are you Really happy yet. Have you really found it within yourself to accept change. Accept yourself. Accept Everything. Do you really think that you'll be able to finally make your younger self smile?

Buries my face in my hands God this man will never Not haunt me for the rest of my days. Get him therapy. I'm normal about him.

I was supposed to be working on assignments but here I am, with my stupid little Kano essay at 1 in the morning. I doubt anyone's gonna read this but if you did I hope you enjoy? This man is very silly in all the worst ways. I love him, I hate him, I want to shove him into a microwave. I want to put him under a microscope. I have multiple times. This man is like a fundamental character that will never Not be a part of my life even when I thought the kagepro hellhole was somewhat behind me for the meantime. He just. Man! He's a lot. And I hope you're in pain with me now too over it ! Okay that's all bye byee~

[harlowsbby]

Idk if you got something like this or already did it. But maybe a gingerbread house contest? Urban or Jack, whichever you wanna do!

Idk why I be gettin shy sending in requests 😭 this why I never do it

May the best man or women win

Jack loved some good competition he was never once to go easy or backdown from a challenge so when you mentioned having a gingerbread house competition he was all here for it.

“So what are the rules baby girl? Let our audience know.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows at everyone joining in to the live.

“The rules are Jack and Me have to get each of our gingerbread houses done and complete within an hour and the loser has to do whatever the winner says for the next 48 hours.” You smirked.

“What? That wasn’t the plan at all baby.” Jack sucked at anything that involved arts and crafts and you knew it that’s why you came up with this idea.

“Well it is now and since the fans can’t really see who’s cheating we have Urban and Sunni here to make sure we don’t cheat.”

“How do you cheat in a gingerbread house contest?” Sunni asked. “You’d be surprised but anyways let’s set up before we start.”

You took out both of the gingerbread houses you had bought earlier that day before handing Jack one.

“While we are building our gingerbread houses Sunni or Urban will be giving us questions to answers from all of you watching.” You told all the fans on the live after a few minutes you finally managed to set everything up.

Looking over at Jack you smirked seeing the nervous and uneasy look on his face. “You doing good over there baby? You look a bit nervous.” You teased him and sat across from him.

“Me nervous? I’m never nervous so you don’t even have to worry about that baby, besides you look like you’re nervous.” Jack loved trash talking it was one of his favorite sports you knew he was only saying that to get under your skin and have you stressing and sweating but you weren’t falling for it.

“We’ll see about that, okay so now that we unwrapped everything Sunni will count down.”

“In 3..2..1.. okay you can both start now.” The minute Sunni said the two of you were able to start you were putting pieces of the gingerbread house together.

“So this first question is for Jack and it says what is your favorite thing about Y/N.” He scoffed playfully. “What’s my favorite thing about Y/N? Well besides that big head she has I’d say her smile my girl has a very charming smile that’ll have you hooked.” A few fans aww’d in the chat at Jack’s response.

“This question is for Y/N, what’s an ick you have about Jack?”

“Damn I can only pick one ick?” You laughed which resulted in a glare from Jack.

“My ick about Jack is that he acts as if he can’t clean up after himself especially after his showers I’m tired of cleaning up your underwear Jack.”

“That’s disgusting man you can’t even clean up after yourself?” Urban asked Jack. ��You’re one to talk the entire time on tour your underwear was everywhere so I don’t wanna hear it.” Jack defended himself.

“Let’s not start arguing now besides I have a few more questions, this one is for Jack again, it says who has been the rudest celebrity you’ve met and why?” You all ooo’d waiting for Jack’s answer, Jack suddenly became red in the face.

“Do I have to answer that question?” “Yes you do unless you want to eat a spoonful of mustard.” Jack’s nose scrunched up at the thought of having to eat a spoonful of mustard.

“Fine the rudest celebrity I’ve met was Jennifer Lopez but I’m not going into any details.” You laughed because you knew just what he was talking about.

You were all having so much fun with the questions that you completely forgot you were in a competition.

“How much time do we have left Sunni?” Sunni looked down at his phone and his widened at how quick time was going. “Well you both only have twenty minutes left.”

“20 minutes?!” Jack and You both said in unison, “Well yeah that’s what happens when you’re in the Christmas spirit.” Urban laughed before taking a hit of his joint.

You looked over your gingerbread house in approval you were satisfied with how it came out, the glitter rooftop really brought it all together. Before you knew it the timer went off signaling that time was up.

“Okay are you both ready to show your gingerbread houses?” Sunni asked. “I’m ready.” You stood up and brought your gingerbread up to the camera and showing everyone.

“Looks like everyone loves Y/N’s gingerbread house so far, Jack let’s see what you have.”

Jack stood up and your both almost dropped his gingerbread house looked amazing, everything was done perfectly.

“Is that a family made up out of gumdrops?” You said in disbelief. “It sure is baby and you might wanna close your mouth you know before any flys land in it.” He smirked before placing his gingerbread house back down.

“Looks like the fans are loving Jack’s gingerbread house a bit more meaning Jack won!!” Jack instantly started cheering.

“I told you I’d win baby that’s what you get for being so cocky and confident all of the time.” He stuck his tongue out at you before grabbing his phone and ending the live. You huffed and puffed before flopping on the couch.

“So that means I have to be your little maid for the next 48 hours?”

“I’m glad you already knew what to do and for starters you can start by rubbing my feet they are kinda sore from tour.” Jack took off his socks, you felt like you were about to throw up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me Sunni and Urban can you two help me?” Urban and Sunni shook their heads no.

“That seems like a you problem not an us problem I’m sorry but no Y/N.” “Now if you excuse us we have some type of errands or something to do.” They quickly left leaving only Jack and You.

“My feet aren’t about to rub themselves baby girl.”

“Fine I’ll do it myself.” You groaned but took Jack’s feet and started massaging them. You stuck to your bet and was Jack’s maid for the next 48 hours and you didn’t enjoy not one bit of it.

tags

@heavyhitterheaux @nattinatalia

@moody4world @jackharloww

@jackmans-poison @hoodharlow

@jacksmoviestar @pianoisland

@awhore4moree @violetdreamsworld

@lovefks @a-moment-captured