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formulaforza · 2 years ago

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oh, simple thing— c.sainz

"the earth laughs in flowers" pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 4.1k notes: guys remember when i used to write? back in january? crazy times. anyways.

You were five years old the first time you proclaimed that you were going to marry Carlos. It came, of course, after the implication that you would also be marrying Prince Charming (as long as he didn’t keep your glass slipper–shoes are a woman’s best friend, your mom had told you once and you never forgot it) and the gym teacher at your primary school, whose crush you’d never admit to anyone but your mom. Can you imagine the teasing? Thinking a grown-up is cute? It’s completely preposterous… or, when you were five, super-duper silly.

All three of the loves of your life were completely coincidental, coming to your brain while your mom read you a bedtime story completely coincidentally. You’d had gym class that day, of course. Played with the rolling scooters and argued with the older kids about getting a turn on the tube slide. Scooter day was always your favorite, so it was no surprise your teacher was in your good graces that evening. A

After dinner, while flipping lazily through channels on the big square television in the family room, your dad had clicked on the Disney Channel by mistake. Cinderella was halfway through and you threw a fit every time he tried to change the channel. You just thought she looked so pretty, in her big princess dress dancing at the ball.

Carlos, what had Carlos done to be in your good graces that day…? He wasn’t in your class, so you couldn’t enlist him in the war of the slides or crash into him on the scooters. He definitely wasn’t running around your house after dinner. If he was, your Mom would still be cleaning up after him somewhere in the house. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos… what had he–oh! That’s right! The flower on the way home from school. How could you ever forget the first flower? He’ll give you shit for it later.

Your mom and Carlos’ mom had been best friends long before you and Carlos burst into the scene. They liked each other more than just about anyone, and you never did understand how Reyes never tired of your Mother’s antics. She was always bossing you around, forcing you to clean up your toys and read your books. Carlos got away with whatever he wanted, his parents would even lie for him on his reading logs. Anyways, stay focused. Because your parents were such good friends, you and Carlos grew up side by side. Parallel play or bust, since neither of you were particularly apt at sharing. Everyday on the walk home from school, your moms would catch up on the gossip from the night before while you and Carlos tried to kill each other with various objects found on the sidewalk. This day, there had been eleven pebbles, two rocks, a stick, and Carlos’ metal water bottle (the one with the HotWheels logo on the side). Now, Carlos was charging at you with… a flower? A bluebell, one he’d picked straight from the ground, root and all hanging from his fist. When he held it out to you, you scowled. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. In fact, it was about as perfect as a bluebell from the sidewalk can get, but, you’re a little shit.

“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower.

Carlos, it seemed, had gotten over the dead flower incident pretty quickly because, the very next day, he was already making a joke of it. He’d held up the walk home for fifteen minutes while he searched through a field in the park. Both of your mothers and Blanca had already shown him what had to be a hundred or so healthy, perky flowers. Carlos shook his head at each one of them, typical. You sat on the curb of the garden and played with the ants that had built a sandy hill beside your foot. You resisted the urge to stomp it, only because you knew you’d be lectured about leaving the bugs alone in the same way you were about leaving the flowers alone. After a lifetime–or enough time to have an after school snack–Carlos finally settled on the ugliest, most wilted flower you’d ever laid your eyes on. He presented it to you with a laugh and, because you’re just as stubborn as he is, you accepted the gift graciously and let it sit vaseless on your dresser for three days before someone threw it away.

Truthfully, though, the real reason you probably proclaimed your intent to marry him that night wasn’t some flower. It was that Blanca had defended you from his water bottle strike with a pebble to the back of his head, and you thought that would be a good kind of person to have as a sister.

Carlos was seventeen when he figured he’d probably end up with you eventually for the first time. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was more of an ah, fuck. It’s gonna be her, isn’t it?

Your families were in Mallorca, touring some vineyard–well, your parents were touring the vineyard. You, Carlos, and all of the siblings had snuck off from the group one by one and met up in the grove just outside the property. Carlos was bumming a cigarette from Blana when Ana finally turned up, stomping her way through the grass and wildflowers annoyedly. Carlos takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it over to you.

“You’re going to start a wildfire, you know?” Ana says, crosses her arms over her chest and pops out a hip all bratty.

“Ana,” Carlos groans, “shut the fuck up.” You exhale a puff of smoke through a laugh.

“If you’re going to be mean, I’m going back to Mom and Dad.”

“Okay,” he says, “have fun.”

“I will,” she proclaims, visibly annoyed that she isn’t drawing a reaction from her big brother. She loves to piss him off, everyone does, because it’s just so easy. “I’ll have sooo much fun telling them about how you’re all in the woods smoking. I’m sure Dad will love that, don’t you think, Carlos?” Blanca rolls her eyes. Sometimes it’s fun to mess with Ana, and sometimes keeping her humble becomes more of a chore than anything else.

Ana stomps away, her whole sneaky journey wasted, the group’s entire smoke session ruined by the pesky baby sister who can’t decide if she wants more to be included or to be a tattletale. “Don’t kill any more flowers on the way back!” Carlos calls after her, passes the cigarette to you again for one last puff before the lot of you have to make your way back to the winery, to the bathroom you’d all claimed to need to use over the past hour. Ana turns on her heels to make sure Carlos can see her eye roll. He just smiles, and you think if Carlos was your brother you probably would have killed him with your bare hands a long time ago.

You squat down to put the cigarette out in the dirt and Carlos digs a hole with his heel for you to drop it into, kicks the dirt back over it and stomps on it a couple times. “Fuckin’ snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

He snatches up one of the stomped on flowers, pulls it from the ground–root and all–and presents it to you. “You really are such an ass,” you say, take the flower and link your arm through his for the remainder of the walk back. “I love you,” you add, “but you’re an ass.”

You were twenty the first time your friendship with Carlos became a threat to one of your relationships. It wouldn’t be the last time. You’d been together for seven months, you and Mateo, Mateo and you. Met at a club in Barcelona and the rest was history. It was a simple conflict of interest, a scheduling woe. You were forced to make a decision. Your boyfriend’s grandma’s birthday party… or Carlos’ debut in Australia. To you, it seemed like the easiest decision in the world. His grandmother isn’t even that old–she’s got plenty of birthdays ahead of her, ones that you’d be happy to celebrate. But Carlos’ debut? Really? That’s once in a lifetime. It’s the shit you just don’t miss, even if you’re in the hospital or literally on your deathbed (which Mateo’s grandma is NOT, by the way. She lived seven more years according to recent Facebook posts).

“You’re going to Australia?” He’d scoffed when you told him, mentioned it so nonchalantly over dinner. When I’m in Australia, don’t forget to water the plants, or something along those trivial lines. He was just as offended as you were utterly confused. There’s no way he thought– “What about my abuela’s birthday?”

You’d laughed. The wrong thing to do, you know, but it was an action done without thought, without intention. “What about it?”

“You’re supposed to come with me.”

“I never said that,” you shake your head and he pulls a face. You set your silverware down and prepare for the coming argument. Normally, you’d just back down, but this is Carlos we’re talking about. Carlos, and his dream. Carlos, and his reality. “I didn’t,” you reaffirm.

He leans forward onto the table, elbows shaking the entire thing, rattling the wine glasses and ceramic against the wood. “I assumed you–”

“–I don’t know why you would assume I‘d be doing anything except supporting Carlos,” you say, more defensive than you intend to be. It’s just, you can already see where this is going, even if it’s never gone there before. You’ve watched the girls Carlos brings home look at him the same way Mateo is looking at you right now, or more importantly, how he doesn’t look at you.

“You know, I don’t either.” He nods, but it’s more of a full body movement, like he’s rocking forward, lips pursed and jaw tight. His eyebrows raise like he’s going to shrug, like he’s surprised with himself. You doubt you read the emotion right. “It’s always about Carlos, isn’t it?”

You lean back in your seat, cross your arms over your chest, close your eyes just long enough to hide the eye roll, and then you’re piling the silverware and the napkin onto the plate and moving the party to the kitchen sink. “I’m not doing this right now,” you say when you grab the wine glass carelessly.

“Oh, so you know what this is about, then?” He calls after you, gathers his things sloppily and follows you into the kitchen.

“You just said it’s about Carlos,” you say, slamming the sink on and clattering the plates into the bowl. Carlos had told you about these fights, about the ones he’s had with his girlfriends. You’d laughed about them, always thought it was so funny–the idea of someone left fuming by your friendship. The crazy assumptions, they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. You and Carlos are nothing but platonic, you’ve always been platonic, you’ll always be platonic. When you know someone as long as you’ve known Carlos, they just become a part of you, build this little home in your soul that blends in so perfectly you could never cut it out with clean margins. It’s not just Carlos, either. It’s Blanca and Ana, too. Hell, it’s even Carlos Sr. and Reyes, but nobody ever seems to understand that.

“It’s my Abuela,” he says, like you’re supposed to be moved or something, and he sets his dishes in the sink on top of yours. “It’s her birthday, and you’re supposed to come with me. I told my family you were coming.”

“I don’t understand why you would do that,” you start scrubbing the first plate with far more aggression than required. You’re not a good fighter, you get mean, and you get mean quick. “I was never not going to Australia.”

He laughs, leans against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at the ground, at the crumbs waiting to be swept up. “Because you’re never going to choose me over Carlos, right?”

“Mateo.”

“Answer the question.”

You freeze, squeeze the soapy sponge in a fist until there’s nothing left to ring out of it. “I’m certainly not going to choose your Abuela over my friend. Over my brother.”

“He’s not your brother.”

You sigh, go back to cleaning. “He’s like my brother.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to fuck your brother,” he says, and meets your eyes with wide, proud eyes like he’d done something, caught you in some illicit love affair. You resist the urge to grab the wand from the sink and spray him with a jet of water.

Instead, coldly, you’d replied, “get out,” and pointed to the door.

His hands shot up in some great defense. Or maybe it was offense, you really never could read him that well. “I see how you look at him.”

In. Out. In, and then out. Deep breaths. “I said leave, Mateo.”

“Because you know I’m right.” In, then out. “You know how fucked up it is that there’s three people in our relationship,” in, out. “Four, if you count Carlos’ girlfriend! What do you think she thinks about all this? You looking at her boyfriend like your favorite candy?” In, then. In, then–in, and then you slap him with a wet hand, the contact reverberating into a splash, coating the walls and the ceiling and the entire fucking room in anger. Anger, and dirty dish water.

The anger is deafening, the room so quiet that the sink makes the kitchen sound like it’s directly behind a waterfall.

He storms off into the living room. You return to the dishes, hear the jingle of his keys, the door opening. “Fuck you!” You call after him, but what you really mean is Fuck Carlos.

When you get the breakup text a few days later, you’re not surprised. You put on your best face and pretend you never read it because while your boyfriend did just break up with you in a seven word text, you’re sitting out the back of the Toro Rosso motorhome watching Carlos pace.

You’ll tell him later, you think, after the race. And then, you don’t dare ruin the celebration, ride the high out until it can’t be ridden any longer. By the time you do get around to telling him, you’re all but moved on, mentioning it nonchalantly amongst the chaos of his first season. It falls away to the backburner, into irrelevancy, and Carlos never does ask what happened to sour the relationship. He does, however, have a wilted arrangement of flowers delivered to your front door with a handwritten note–ugly and dead, just like your relationship. You’d laughed for maybe twenty straight minutes.

Carlos was twenty-four when he realized he was in love with you, that maybe he always had been. He’d just broken up with a girlfriend, one whose name he hardly remembers now. Alessandra… Alena… Adrianna–oh, screw it. It was definitely an “A,” and if it wasn’t, he’s sure it was a vowel. Not the point. He was twenty-four and had just dumped whatever her name was because it just didn’t feel right. (What does right feel like at twenty-four? And how do you know it when you see it? The world may never know).

It was three races into the 2019 season, and he’d been having a particularly unlucky start with his new team. He’d spent the offseason relatively alone in Woking, finding his footing in a new place, a new team, a new car. Everything is gray, you’d told him the night he announced his impending move, scrolling through your phone at Google search results for the town. “It’s not gray,” he said, and without needing to say anything or flash him a look, he backtracked. “Okay, it’s a little gray.”

Three races in–an engine fire and two first lap collisions–in, and everything is feeling pretty gray, not just his rainy apartment (flat, he’s been taught to call it) in Woking. The cards felt stacked against him, and reluctantly, he’d called in reinforcements to Baku, a couple of good luck charms in the form of the people he loved. You, Ana, and Blanca flew in together and made Carlos come pick you up from the airport himself.

You climbed into the backseat and were anything but gray. You were glowing, completely and utterly sunkissed, and your hair was messy from travel but it reminded him of what you’re like after a good nap. Groggy and sleepy and desperate to stretch out like a cat. He hates that he knows how you like to stretch after a nap, the exact pattern of movements you do. Do you know how much time you have to spend with someone to memorize their post-nap stretch routine? Too much time, that’s how much.

You got into his car, all bright and sunny, and sure, his sisters were there and he loves them so much. But, you’re here, and you’re bright and sunny and everything feels just a little less gray. He pulls out from the airport and while he doesn’t realize that he loves you just yet, he knows something in him has been chemically altered by your smile, irrevocably so.

It’s Sunday when he realizes, somewhere between the checkered flag and the team debrief when you and the girls appear, practically crash into him like you’d been dropped down into the garage right from the sky. He hugs you, and you smell like sunshine. He wants to bash his head into the wall of his driver's room, to lay in front of Lando’s car and ask him to run him over because he’s not supposed to take note of the way you smell (unless it’s to call you out for smelling like shit).

You kiss his cheek and shove his shoulder because you’re so happy for him, because you’re always so happy for him. He doesn’t think it’s fair for someone like him to always have someone this happy for him. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you. He loves you. Fuck, he’s in love with you.

Lando nearly pees his pants over a tweet the next day. Carlos has reached a new level of Carlos-ing, it read, with a picture of him visibility distracted while being fed to the media pen. He can’t tell his teammate that the reason he’s so distracted is because he’s internally debating the pros and cons of ruining your friendship forever.

You’re twenty-four when you and Carlos start dating. The two of you drag it out for as long as humanly possible, stretch the patience of everyone around you so thin they won’t be surprised (or concerned) at the idea of you and him getting together. It’s scary. Really, really scary to admit your feelings for each other, to tell the rest of the world about it, but Carlos keeps bringing you these mis-shapen flowers, ones where the dye is soaked up poorly or they’re a couple days too wilted. It’s our thing, he would always say, and kiss you while you cut the stems to fit in your favorite vase.

He was right, it was something that was just yours. There was nobody else actively searching out dying flowers in the shops or carefully picking the dirtiest wildflower from its root on an evening walk through the city. That was just the two of you, and nobody else understood it.

“It’s gross,” a friend told you, twiddling one of the half-dead flower stems between her fingers while you shared gossip over glasses of wine. “You got these today and they’re ready to be thrown in the bin.”

“You don’t get it,” you’d swatted her words away. The dead flowers weren’t understood, and they didn’t need to be. They were special to you and Carlos, and when it came down to it, nothing else mattered to you.

“Seriously, though,” she’d continued, “It’s… I don’t know. Dead flowers, it’s just weird.”

Carlos is twenty-six when you break up. It’s mutual, it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it’s mutual, when either one of you desperately searches to blame the other for the pitfalls, it’s still mutual, still two people who love each other. Who just aren’t in love with each other anymore.

There’s a lot of reasons if you want to get into it, but his new drive is the catalyst for pretty much all of them. Carlos is with Ferrari now, which is the dream, but it's also the nightmare. McLaren is iconic and historic but Ferrari… well. Everyone knows the Vettel quote, everyone knows the kid’s car is red. Ferrari’s Ferrari and you’re just… you. Time runs out, patience runs thin, and that’s the end of it.

You’re twenty-seven when you see him for the first time post-breakup. It’s a setup by your parents. Mallorca and the vineyard, again. You don’t think anything of it, so much has happened in the last decade and Mallorca is half of Spain’s favorite vacation destination.

He’s sitting with his family at the bar, the whole clan of them sipping from a wine-tasting tray. His eyes shoot up to meet yours with the loud creak of the old, heavy doors. He does a double take, and your stomach turns into a ball of knotted necklaces.

During the same tour you’d been on all those years ago, you sneak off with the same excuse you’d used. Blanca and Ana don’t follow after you to debate the environmental damages of bumming a cigarette in the grove or to threaten to snitch on you to your parents. They stay behind and listen and you stomp through the wildflowers to get some air. You’re already outside, Carlos would say if he were there. You’re my dirty air, you’d tell him, and he would roll his eyes, shove his hands deep in his pockets and rock on his heels.

He knows you’re not in the bathroom, there isn’t a single nerve in your mind that thinks he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He doesn’t sneak off behind you. You gather your thoughts in the grove by yourself, leant against a tree older than you’ll dream of being. You pick a wildflower, one that looks picture perfect, snap it carefully from the root and stick the stem behind your ear.

When you return to your party, they don’t notice you’ve been gone for far too long to use the bathroom or that you’ve got a flower in your hair. Well, all of them except Carlos, who slows his walking pace to drop to the back of the group next to you. “Nice flower,” he comments quietly.

You nod, watch your feet as they move in synchronized steps with him on the grassy path. “Thanks.”

“It’s dead,” he adds, and you smile dimly. “It’s not nice to kill the flowers.”

Carlos is twenty-eight when he’s perusing the birthday card section at the local gift shop. He’s trying to find one that perfectly sums up his birthday wishes for you. It has to be sunny and happy and so, so sorry for everything (even when it’s nobody’s fault). It has to say, I’ll always love you without saying I am still terribly in love with you. It has to be subtle and obvious and endearing and serious and funny. It has to be everything his words can’t be.

He eventually settles on one, tucks it into the yellow envelope and licks it shut. He handwrites your name on it messily, like you could get confused about who it’s for and need a label, or like he has a stack of yellow envelopes for dozens of other people sitting sealed on his kitchen counter. He goes to the florist next, picks out a stock arrangement from the fridge and a package of flower seeds. The final stop on his city tour is your apartment. Three knocks on your door, and then you’re undoing the deadbolt.

“Hi,” you say, confused by his presence on your welcome mat.

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles. “This is the last time I get you dead flowers.”

You and Carlos are thirty at your wedding. He cries when you walk down the aisle and there isn’t a single real flower in your bouquet. It’s all fake, and one of your friends asks if you’re worried it might look tacky or cheap. Anyone who thinks that shouldn’t be at our wedding, you’d told them.

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luffyvace · 1 year ago

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How aizawa courts you/relationship headcanons

y’all seem to really like the crush headcanons i did so now i’m doing him when he actually tries to court you and when your actually together :)

this is still going to be canon aizawa btw

also still fem reader in mind

okay so now that aizawa is trying to court you, like in love and wants to date

he’d be forward about it

probably waits until your at his place or yours

then as your doing whatever he’ll ask

“y/n i have something important to tell you”

“yeah? what is it, it’s not bad is it?”

“no, i actually just wanted to know if you’d like to go out somewhere with me. a date.”

your reaction may vary from shock to a knowing smile

either way you accept politely (how could you reject such a fine man?)

so you both talk about the date and end up planning it out right then and there

you decided that weekend would work fine

so after that’s settled you talk about each other’s feelings, how and why they came to be

you figured out you fell first but he fell harder :)

so your first date would be out somewhere simple yet fun and with a little less people

so there’s this place called cat island in japan

yeah

its perfect

(i hope your a cat person)

it’s exactly what you think, there’s cats everywhere search it up

there’s more cats than people actually

its heaven for him

you guys have a fun field day with cats then head back to your house

chatting and looking at the pictures you took

and yeah!

again he’s straight forward with courting

so now we’re on relationship

you guys are definitely closer now

i’ll go through a normal day for y’all then relationship things

aizawa gets up early for his job

he’ll get ready and text you to see how your doing then go to work

if you work at ua with him and live together

he likely gets up first if not y’all are up at the same time

when he’s ready he’ll wake you up if you like to sleep in

and warm the car while he waits if it’s winter (yippie he’s freezing so you don’t have to)

y’all drive to work together

you can text him throughout work but he won’t reply unless it’s important or a genuinely good question

he won’t slack off the job (EVEN THO HE SLEEPS ON IT)

anyway

if you work with him he’ll text you on break if your not already in the staff room

or if you have separate jobs he’ll still text to check up on you

makes sure you eat something

is today stressful so far?

why? vent to him.

he truly cares about your physical and mental health

once you both get home from work he’ll run you a bath and cook dinner

he’s a average cook, can cook basic things

if y’all don’t live together he’s more likely to order take out though

not always junk food sometimes he’s just tired and orders a salad. he’s upset because he knows he can make it himself but he’s just so tired

so he appreciates if you turn the tables and treat him to a bath and hot meal (if y’all moved in together)

but if y’all got your own places sometimes if your both still energized you’ll come over to one another’s house

if y’all live together he falls asleep real fast

won’t mind if you snuggle next to him

except for when he gets hot

then he turns over 😭

sometimes he’ll try to stay up to have those late night convos with you but don’t get mad if he falls asleep, it’s by accident. y’all can always continue the next night :)

he won’t snuggle you btw

just because he naturally stays on his side of the bed

he ain’t a wild sleeper

he flips from side to side

its rare to catch him on his back for more than a few minutes

LUCKY YOU HE’S NOT A BLANKET HOGGER

if you are tho

he’ll get annoyed the first few times but he won’t say anything about it

after a few nights he just gets his own blanket

if your a wild sleeper this annoys him more than hogging the blanket

he’ll tell you, you keep kicking him and slapping him in his sleep and it wakes him up

yknow your boy likes some good sleep so he doesn’t stand for you wakin him up

suggests to get two beds

but you don’t like that idea

so he’ll probably end up putting pillows in between you or sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor 😭

if y’all stay at different places tho

its rare for y’all to have a sleepover

he doesn’t see the point in having two different houses if you just want to sleep at his

would think about moving in together

but he won’t bring it to the table unless he see’s a opportunity or feels you’d feel comfortable/like that

if you do manage to convince him he’s not staying up and playing or smth he’s literally going to sleep

if your a wild sleeper he won’t do it again

otherwise you may be able to convince him like 2 or 3 more times

dont tell mic though if mic teases him he’ll never do it again

not to spite you but out of annoyance from yamada (mic)

he just won’t feel like it anymore

btw keep your room clean or be scolded

”clean your room y/n there’s no reason you should have clothes and clutter everywhere.”

“you don’t even need half of this stuff, just clean it.”

now to genuine relationship things

well for one i’m telling you he won’t call you pet names

just

“y/n”

”why should i call you ___ if your name is y/n”

doesn’t see the point in them

you may be able to convince him a few years into the relationship to call you “babe” or anything simple and sweet but that’s it

maybe a “n/n” occasionally

if YOU call HIM pet names tho

he wouldn’t mind :)

still doesn’t get it tho

just don’t make it anything too sappy

he’ll funny look you if you do

especially at work

or around mic and all might

would prefer if you stuck to the simple ones or a nickname tho

another thing

if your a hero, a reckless one at that, he’ll worry for you and scold you if you get injured

please don’t give this man a heart attack

”you need to be more rational”

if your already a rational person thank goodness

he’s glad he doesn’t have to babysit a whole class of students and you

random

but

if you like coffee or tea he’ll make you some before/when you get up

if you don’t live together he’ll bring you a cup if you both work at ua

if you work on weekends (idk how some people do it) he’ll bring you a cup on your lunch break

giving each other massages>>

he’s really good at it too

he’s a good person to vent to as well

especially about the stress of work because he felt that

he’ll take you on dates randomly even if y’all are in a relationship

not every week

but he’ll take the time out to spend it with you if he has some

he’s a traditional gentleman

and by that i mean buy you flowers and gifts

but not just “roses 🤓☝️“

he’ll actually take the time to learn your favorite flowers and buys you reals ones to take care of

if you don’t have a green thumb how else will you learn?

so he’ll buy them anyway

helps you take care of them though

he waters them and reminds you to if you live separately

he buys you little trinkets and gifts that BENEFIT you

not just something that’ll “collect dust” as he says

like if you tell him your vacuum breaks down every few months

he’ll RESEARCH one that doesn’t, is inexpensive and cleans well

and buy it for you :)

overall he’s a 10/10 boyfriend 100% green flag

ladies and gentlemen (and whoever’s in between)

get yourself an aizawa

enough said

have a good day/night

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crazylittlejester · 5 months ago

Note

how do you imagine each of the Chain's voices? 👀

- hero-of-the-wolf

kissing you on the mouth (/p) for asking me this because i actually have so many thoughts and opinions about this (disclaimer these are just my personal headcanons)

Time: Not deep sounding, but it is low, if that makes any sense. I think his voice sounds very solid and strong, but he’s very soft spoken. It can carry if he needs it to and he can sound commanding, but he tends to speak more quietly. He doesn’t typically have a lot of emotion in his voice, and he struggles a bit with his tone. Sometimes he sounds a lot more flat than he intends to. I also think he has a slight stutter. (As far as like overall pitch, i’d put him somewhere similar to Christian Bale as Howl in Howl’s Moving Castle)

Warriors: A bit higher than Time’s but not by much, though because of the way he talks when he’s masking and doing his Captain Persona, it sounds higher than it really it. He’s way too good words he can get whatever he wants and you can hear it in the way he speaks when he’s trying to get information out of people. There is absolutely a difference in his voice depending on who he’s talking to and for what reason (I don’t think Warriors SOUNDS like him, but an example of what I mean would be BG3’s Astarion with how differently he sounds depending on who he’s talking to). He sounds much different when he’s with the chain, his voice gets lower as he gets more relaxed, and similarly to Time, when Warriors isn’t literally acting he’s very soft spoken. He’s not a loud person, no to me anyways, his voice is quiet and smooth and easy to listen to. You can hear the gentleness in it, and when he’s being genuine you can hear his emotions in his voice incredibly clearly. And it’s when he feels like he can be himself that a little bit of his real accent slips through. When’s he’s acting more like ‘Captain Link’ he is SIGNIFICANTLY louder. His voice sounds full and solid and it CARRIES across fields. He has good breath support and is really good at projecting without actually ruining his voice, which took him a while to learn how to do. He thinks about everything he’s going to say before he opens his mouth and he takes the time to clearly annunciate his words (when he’s masking, because he has to he perfect and he’s used to court life), but in situations where he’s overwhelmed or exhausted he stalls a lot and drags out his words. He is the easiest to understand out of the whole group for the most part though, because of how clearly he speaks

Twilight: Now I personally think he’d have a bit of a mid pitched voice, his isn’t low by any means, but it’s not high either. He’s in his early twenties and sounds like it. Sometimes the accent makes it hard for the others to understand him because he’ll smash a bunch of words together in ways the others have simply never heard, or oddly emphasize certain syllables. His voice isn’t as clear as Warriors’s is, it’s got a little bit of a raspy quality to it that’s a lot more noticeable when he’s talking softly than if he’s just talking normally. He’s a quiet person in general to me, but his voice is at that pitch where even if he isn’t talking super loud it’s the one you hear first in a group of people. Like how if a bunch of people are talking all at once there’s always that one person who may not be talking super loudly but because of the pitch of their voice it just carries for some reason and you hear it more clearly. That’s Twi

Sky: Okay to me, Sky has the deepest voice of the whole chain. It has an odd almost melodic quality to it that is completely unintentional on Sky’s part, and he is the kind of person you could listen to read something for hours. His voice is very full and solid sounding, but he speaks gently in an almost unsettling way, like there’s power hidden behind his voice he refuses to use. Listening to him you can just hear that he’d have a strong voice, but he doesn’t ever yell or speak very loudly (unless they’re on the battlefield). This is a guy who could easily command armies but chooses to be laid back and you can hear it in his voice and the way he speaks

Hyrule: Somehow sounds 12 and 19 at the same time. His voice being on the higher end really doesn’t help him seem his age to people who are trying to guess it. It has its moments where it sounds solid but sometimes it has almost a squeaky tone to it. I think he’d sound similar to Hiro from Big Hero 6

Legend: His voice almost has a hollow, raspy sound to it, like he screamed and broke it one too many times and now it’s just stuck like that. I believe in my heart he has an (Irish) accent that he’s trained himself to hide but it slips out occasionally. He tries to speak clearly but he’s a very fast talker, especially if you get him going about something he’s passionate about. Voice quality and pitch wise, I think he’d sound similar to Edward Elric’s english voice, specifically in Brotherhood, but Legend’s voice would be more raspy

Wild: His voice is incredibly raspy and cracks like crazy if he tries to speak loudly at all. It’s hard to hear what it might’ve sounded like before the accident, his voice almost sounds like a whisper but at a normal speaking volume. It’s a bit hard for him to express emotions in his voice but he can more than make up for it in facial expressions and hand gestures, as well as just sign language

Four: On the lower end, somewhere between Twilight and Warriors. He’s quiet in the sense that he doesn’t speak often, but when he actually talks he does so clearly and at a normal volume, I wouldn’t call him soft spoken. He can sound a bit blunt and to the point when he chimes in, but when he’s really excited about something cool he found his voice gets a lot higher. He has a solid voice, it doesn’t crack often at all

Wind: Bless his heart his voice sounds a bit like a crinkling chip bag /j He’s very loud, Time has had to ask him to speak a little quieter more than once when Wind chose him and Warriors to infodump about boats to, and he has a very hard time controlling his volume when he gets excited. Once his voice settles to the pitch it’s going to stay, he’ll have a smooth sounding, solid voice. But for now it’s frustratingly crackly and he hates it. That’s definitely not stopping him from talking Warriors’s ear off

apologizes if things aren’t coherent im having a day where im very bad with words, also sorry for weird spelling errors or oddly autocorrected words

#THANKS FOR ENABLING ME TO YAP #im gonna pass tf out now ough that was a lot of words #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu headcanons #jes talks #jes ask

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

Text

After All This Time

Have yall seen the gorgeous man that is Howl Jenkins Pendragon? I had to make it NSFW, I just had to.

Howl leads Sophie out to the balcony for yet another romantic kiss, awash in moonlight.

You think you might barf. That, or claw out your own heart. You can’t tell what’s more distracting, the acid threatening to rumble up your throat or the aching in your chest threatening to consume you whole. You almost feel guilty for just how heartbroken you feel whenever you see them together.

They’re a cute couple. Much cuter than you would ever be with him. The whole time you’d known him, he’d been searching for her. He would repeat to you the same story about how she had appeared to him, almost like in a dream, asking him to come find her. She was all he’d ever wanted, even before he’d even known her. And why wouldn’t she be? She was kind, even to you. Made your favorite foods whenever you were down, taught you how to tie bows in your hair. And yet, all you could do was despise her. You felt like shit.

But some part of you, some wretched part you’d hidden deep inside your darkness, though apparently not deep enough, felt like Howl belonged to you. He’d met her first, but only for a few seconds before she’d vanished into thin air. It hardly counted as a meeting, in your opinion. You met him soon after; you’d run away to get lost in the meadows and the mountains after your family had renounced you, and that’s when you caught sight of his raven black hair fluttering in the wind as he picked flowers without a care in the world. That was honestly probably the moment you fell in love with him, though you denied it until it was too late.

You remember you laid in the field with him for hours that day, plucking petals, talking secrets and aspirations. You didn’t care that he was some stranger you’d just met, you were a kid, and he was your savior. He offered you a home and you offered him your life, said you’d help him find the girl he was searching for. Really, you would’ve done anything just to stay by his side.

Your most comfortable nights were when he snuggled in bed beside you, keeping your nightmares at bay with his sweet words and intoxicating scent. He’d read you stories to pass the time, and you’d fall asleep in his arms, listening to the familiar rumble of his voice in his chest as you snuggled up against it. Sometimes he’d tell you stories about his own life. Your favorite one was the day he met you. You’d beg him to tell you that story over and over, and though he’d laugh and tease you because you already knew the story having lived it, he’d cave in and humor you anyway, each and every time, without fail. He could never resist you (though sometimes he tried, because he thought it was cute when you pouted.) When he’d finally start telling the story, you’d smile the biggest smile and he’d wonder why he ever stalled in the first place, when he had such a sight to look forward to. Sometimes he’d change up details of the story just to make you laugh, say you flew in on a spaceship, say he was 10 feet tall the day you’d met. It wasn’t hard to make you laugh. Howl loved your laugh and you loved to make him happy. You gave every part of yourself freely.

You weren’t always the best influence on him, but you were his perfect match. One weekend, the two of you didn’t have enough money for food, so he stole a loaf of bread from a merchant he hated. When he sheepishly admitted his crime to you, ready to defend himself with his growling stomach as hard evidence, you smirked and uncovered a basket full of pastries you’d stolen from the same baker. He laughed so hard he fell into the fireplace and you had to rinse ashes from his hair. The two of you toasted your loaves of bread and munched on them together, giggling and nudging each other the rest of the night.

The “partner in crime” act continued when you decided to pursue magic together. You almost got yourselves kicked out of your training because the two of you would play pranks on the rest of the class. Sometimes they were justified and sometimes they were not, but they were fun either way. One time, a bully jeered at Howl’s jet black hair and you turned him into a worm. Unfortunately, that was also the day Howl had started to dye his hair blonde, though he claimed it was unrelated. You made every effort to tell him you adored the way he looked before, and it broke your heart that he wouldn’t listen. He’d say you were just like his sister and it was your job to lie to him and tell him he looked good. You didn’t have the guts to tell him that you’d always loved the way he looked, that you’d always loved him. You didn’t have the guts to beg him to see you as something different, to beg him to see you as something more.

When your first Christmas with him started quickly approaching, you used the only skills at your disposal to make him a pink coat with blue diamonds patched onto it. He loved it so much that he wore it everywhere, and when he finally started to outgrow it, he begged you to make him the same jacket a size larger. And then another size larger. And another, until he was fully grown, fully handsome, and still wrapped in the evidence of your secret love for him.

For the longest time, it was just you, Howl, and Calcifer in his castle. And for the longest time, you wondered if he could just let go of the Sophie thing. You were happy the way things were, why couldn’t he be happy too?

You even thought he might have started to love you back at some point. He’d blush when your shirt would ride up. He’d freeze when you’d brush up against him, even though you had spent many nights sleeping in each other's arms when you were kids. He’d compliment you more, every word carefully handpicked, like he’d spent time thinking about all the ways he adored you.

But then he found her. And he remembered the one thing he wanted.

He’d spent so long looking for her, it didn’t seem right to quit now, though you would’ve happily persuaded him otherwise.

And when you met her, when she was talented, when she was generous, when she was spunky, your heart crumbled to pieces. She was the perfect woman. His perfect woman. And suddenly the weight of your hopes, of your dreams, of your love, came crashing down on you, leaving you devastated in the aftermath.

So tonight, you choke back more “what if’s” as you gaze into the glow of the fire, wondering if you can just feed yourself to Calcifer. Of course, he’d never do that. He was rooting for you. He was the only one; you’d given up on having Howl, at this point.

You hear the door open but don't move from your spot. You think you vaguely hear Sophie mumble a shaky “goodnight” to you, but it’s in between panted breaths, and you almost puke again thinking about just how much oxygen he must’ve sucked from her lungs with that kiss. You say nothing, biting your lip until it bleeds. She goes to bed.

You hear the door open again, and find yourself increasingly more interested in the embers, not wanting to look over at him, not wanting to see his love-drunk expression.

He plops down beside you, sighing happily. There’s that puking feeling again.

You don’t say a word and he nudges you with his shoulder. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And can I ask why you can’t sleep?”

You shake your head again.

“Can I at least ask why I can’t ask?”

“Nope.”

He rolls his eyes. “C’mon. It’s me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“No, thanks.”

He sighs, exasperated. “You barely talk to me and when you do, it’s not more than two words. What is going on with you tonight?”

“Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” Then you smirk. “See- I said more than two words that time.”

He laughs, glad you’re back to joking with him again. “Gods, you’re stubborn, you know that? And a bit of a jackass.”

You laugh at that. “It’s a good thing you love me anyway.”

He blushes. “Bold of you to assume I love you.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “You better love me at least a little, we are best friends, you know.” You hope he can’t hear the tone in which you say the word love, like you’re not holding your breath, waiting for a confession after he’s just sent his girlfriend to bed.

“Right. Yeah. We are best friends. I do love you, of course I love you. Because we’re friends.” He stumbles on his words and you have the audacity to find it cute. His girlfriend is waiting for him to come to bed, and you’re sitting here, coaxing the word love from him, like you’re not going to purposely misinterpret it later, like you’re not going to go lie in bed after this, staring at the ceiling for hours, just dreaming about the way he says he loves you. You thought you knew better than this.

Apparently you don’t. You answer like an idiot. “And I love you too. As a best friend.”

The blush crawls up his face and tinges his ears red. “Yup. Friends. Best friends.”

The sight makes you choke on your laughter, and for a minute you almost forget just how serious this moment is. “Howl, why are you being weird?”

He scoffs at you. “I’m not being weird. I’m being normal.”

You pinch his cheek. “You’re being so awkward, what gives? It’s just me.” You nudge his shoulder as platonically as you can, but you know it’s just because you’re dying to touch him somewhere, anywhere.

He makes a strangled noise. “You’re being embarrassing, that’s all.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, ignoring the thumping in your chest. “And how am I embarrassing you, Howl?

He sighs, your close proximity to him somehow relaxing him and making him tense up at the same time. “You’re being so touchy… and you say you love me… but as a best friend.”

“And are we not best friends?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, we are. But somehow I get the feeling that you mean something else when you say that. When you say you… love me.”

“And what do you want it to mean?” You know this is a mess of your own making. You know you’re just daring him to confess. But you can’t stop now.

“Well. Just tell me what you mean when you say it.”

You go back to shaking your head and he groans.

“Why won’t you just tell me? I want, I need to know your answer. It’s driving me crazy.”

“What’s the issue? You have Sophie. You don’t need me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sophie has nothing to do with this. Right now, this is just about you and me.”

All your nerve leaves you when you think you might finally have to confess. “Howl. I’m going to bed.” You get up to leave.

He grabs your wrist. “No. You can’t. I’m not done.”

You yank your wrist away. “I’m done. Goodnight, Howl.”

You lock the door to your room thinking the conversation has ended, thinking you can finally let the depression swallow you whole. But he bangs on the door over and over, so much so that you start to feel guilty for Sophie who’s sleeping soundly a couple rooms away. You yank the door open and tug him inside, closing the door behind him. He had wanted to come in, but now that he’s standing alone in your room with you, he’s suddenly silent, the weight of this intimate moment sinking in.

You sigh and drag him over to the bed, pulling him down beside you, and snuggling up against him.

He freezes up.

“Stop acting like a stranger, we used to sleep together all the time.”

He coughs. “Yeah, when we were kids. It’s been awhile since we’ve done this.” He says that, but he slowly puts his arms around you anyway, resuming his usual position on your bed.

“Yeah well, that’s cuz you went and got yourself a girlfriend.” And maybe it’s because it was the middle of the night and you’re sleep deprived -if he asks, that’s what you’ll blame it on- but you suddenly blurt out, “And I’m offended, by the way.”

He huffs, amused. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“Well you know what, maybe I should go get a boyfriend then.”

He tenses up again. “Wh-why’s that?”

You shrug. “You have a girlfriend, why can’t I have a boyfriend?”

“B-because! You don’t know what men are like. They might take advantage of you.”

“So who should I date then?”

He swallows. “No one.”

You don’t actually intend to get a boyfriend, you’re too far gone for Howl, but suddenly his words stir some fire in you that you didn’t know existed. He has the audacity to not love you and then claim you can’t love anyone else? The balls on him.

He can feel the air shift because he suddenly tries to make light of the situation. “Besides, I don’t like sharing my best friend with anyone anyway.”

You glare at him. “Well that’s bullshit because I have to share you with Sophie. It used to be just the two of us, don’t you remember?”

He sighs, guilt creasing his face. “I know, I know. But you’re still important to me. She’s just… she’s my everything.”

You wince and pull yourself out of his arms, turning to face the opposite direction.

He groans. “Come on, don’t be like this. Talk to me. I don’t like when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset, I’m just tired, I want to go to bed. Go to your girlfriend, Howl.”

“Please. Please just talk to me.” He begs, desperation staining his voice.

Suddenly you snap. “She’s your everything, but that used to be me.” You hadn’t intended the words to sound bitter, but they leave a sour taste in your mouth on the way out.

He winces. “I… yeah, I know. I know things are different now, but the way I feel about you hasn’t changed.”

“That’s the problem.” You whisper to yourself so quietly he’s left straining to hear. When he doesn’t answer, you realize he didn’t hear you after all, and you don’t have the energy to say it again. You wrap yourself up tightly in the blankets. “Your girlfriend is going to worry if you keep her waiting much longer. Go to her.”

He sighs. He wants to keep talking with you but he knows you’re right. He doesn’t want to worry Sophie. He promises he’ll talk with you in the morning and takes his leave.

In the morning, he finds that all of your things are missing and you’re nowhere to be found. He panics and races outside in his pajamas, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He sees your head bobbing down the street, bags in your hands. He almost collapses a lung trying to chase after you.

“What are you doing??” He yells as he runs.

You flinch at his voice, recognizing it instantly, but you keep walking.

He catches up to you and wrenches your arm backwards. You drop a bag and he quickly picks it up but holds onto it.

“Why do you have all your things? Where are you going? Why are you going? You can’t just leave me like this!” His words are rushed, like they’re flooding out, like he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, just that he wants to say something, just that he needs to make you acknowledge him, to make you stay.

You reach for your bag and he yanks it back. “Howl-”

“You- you can’t leave me, damnit!” He snaps and you realize it’s been a long time since he was this mad at you. You almost smile at the thought that your departure causes him so much displeasure. It’s sweet.

“Howl, I need to go.”

“No, no, you don’t. You need to stay with me. What ever happened to best friends? What ever happened to I love you?”

“Howl.”

He doesn’t listen. He keeps rambling.

“Howl. Howl!”

His eyes snap up to yours.

“I love you, Howl.”

He shuts the fuck up.

“I’m in love with you.” You say again, letting the words sink in. He’s still reeling from the shock of it all.

You continue, “I love you, so I can’t stay. I can’t be close to you like this. I can’t keep third wheeling, I can’t keep lying awake at night, dreaming about you, listening to you sleep next door. I can’t. It’s time, I need to go.” You muster up your best smile for him. It’s much easier to grab the bag from his hands now that he’s frozen in place.

You hear him weakly mumbling things like “But I still need you” and “But you can’t leave me” and you wince, but you turn to leave anyway. He weakly grabs onto your arm again, but he’s so shaken, it’s easy to slip out of his grip.

You sigh as you take in the sad sight of him in this miserable state. “You don’t need me. You’ll be fine. You have Sophie. Everything will be fine. I wish you both happiness.” You don’t, but you say it anyway, you reassure him, because that’s what you do when you love him.

When he continues fumbling for you, his words a jumbled mess, you realize he’ll just keep coming after you, even in this weakened state, so you speak up again, “Old friend. Will you do me a favor?”

Life slowly flickers back into his eyes, as he thinks of how he can be of use to you. “Yes, anything. Anything for you.”

“Close your eyes.”

He bites his lip but hesitantly closes his eyes anyway.

You want to leave now. You want to bolt while he’s not looking. But your greed gets the better of you. You hesitate before finally making the decision to kiss him on the cheek, and you know you’ll keep that moment with you forever. You’ll hold on to the feeling of his cheek on your lips until the day you die, because you know you’ll love him until the day you die.

Then you walk away, picking up the pace as you continue down the street, hoping he doesn’t open his eyes, hoping you saved him the pain of having to watch you leave.

Many years later, you’re running errands, walking down the street at a leisurely pace, just enjoying the sun on your skin. You look up at the sky, taking in the fresh air and basking in the sunlight.

Not watching where you’re going, you crash into someone. You immediately think to apologize, but your words get swallowed down when you catch a glimpse of jet black hair.

“H-Howl?”

He blinks. And then he blinks again, this time trying to hold back tears. “Is…is it really… really you?”

A smile spreads across your face. “Hi.”

He reaches out to touch you and then he stops. You intertwine your fingers with his before he can pull his hand away. His fingers lock into place as he draws closer to you, sinking into your touch.

“You’re here.” He whispers.

You ruffle his hair. “You went back to your natural color. I like it.”

He blushes and he absentmindedly reaches up to touch the place where your hand just grazed his hair. “You… you always said you liked it better.”

You smile again. Then you let his hand go, much to his disappointment, and start looking around, looking for her. Your brows furrow in confusion when you don’t see anyone nearby. “Where’s Sofie?”

He swallows, looking down. “She, uh, she’s not… not here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“She… we…um. We broke up. Awhile ago. Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

You choke on your spit. “You what? Oh you poor thing, let me get you a drink.” You start dragging him away before he can properly process what’s going on.

He thinks you’re taking him to a bar, and he’s surprised when you lead him into your house, ushering him onto one of your bar stools. He looks around while you mix up a drink for him. He realizes this place looks oddly familiar, even though he’s never been here before.

You realize he’s trying to piece together where he’s seen this place. You crack a smile. “I modeled it after that house we stayed at, in the countryside. Seems you remember it well. You like it?”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Before he can make any proper commentary on the house, a child runs up to you and throws his arms around your leg.

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “Hey, sweetie. What’re you doing down there?”

Howl swallows, watching this interaction with bated breath. He wonders if that’s your kid. It has to be, it’s your house.

You hand Howl the freshly mixed drink and he takes a sip.

He’s about to comment on how good it is when he hears the kid say, “Mom! Up!” and he chokes on his drink.

You pick the kid up, resting him on your hip before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Silly. What would your mother say if she heard you calling me mom? It’s auntie, remember? Now go run along and help your mom out with the laundry, okay baby?” You set the kid down and he nods before running to the backroom.

When the kid is gone, you burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face. I thought I was gonna die, you looked like you just had a stroke. You thought he was my kid, huh?” You turn to Howl and poke him on the nose.

He rolls his eyes and swats your hand away, seemingly unfrozen now. “Well, can you blame me?”

“He doesn’t look a thing like me,” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

“Well he could’ve taken after your husband!” He exclaimed defensively.

“Well I don’t have a husband.”

Howl blinks. “No husband.” He repeats.

“And… no boyfriend either.” You say slowly, watching him process this information.

“And no boyfriend either.” He repeats, each word softer than the next.

Suddenly you’re interrupted by your sister waving at you as she takes her kid and her freshly done laundry out the door with her. You wave back and when you catch Howl’s shocked expression, you explain to him that you reconnected with some of your family. He’s happy for you. He always is. Your wins were always his wins. You always loved that about him.You wonder if you can dare to love him some more. If you can dare to dream.

“So… do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” You ask nonchalantly.

He bites his lip. “N-no. Just kind of been… wandering aimlessly.”

You perk up. “Well perfect, I have spare rooms.”

He blushes. “You’d let me stay here? Even after all this time?

You hop into a seat next to him. “Well yeah, aren’t we best friends? That doesn’t just go away, you know.” You nudge his shoulder. Then you dare to rest your head on it.

He freezes but then he relaxes. “This drink is pretty good, by the way.”

“Better be. I put your favorite flavors in it.”

He sits up straighter. “You remember?”

“I remember everything.”

He goes silent, lost in his thoughts.

You want to cheer him up. “Bet I can drink you under the table.”

He snorts. “Like hell you can.”

You spend the next few hours chugging drinks, laughing, catching each other up on everything non-Sofie related. She’s not important right now. Part of you hopes she’ll never come up again. Actually, most of you hopes that.

Eventually it’s time to retire, and you say you’ll draw him up a bath with his favorite scents. He smiles at you, “I’ll toast to that!” and he lifts his cup to you as you disappear into the bathroom.

You reappear to tell him it’s ready and he flushes bright red when you tell him you’ll just be right next door, taking your bath, if he needs you. He begins to soak in the tub, his mind swimming with thoughts of you. He can’t stand you being so close and yet so far away. And taking a bath. Naked, no less. Just behind that wall. He gulps and sinks deeper into the tub, trying to drown out his thoughts.

Then you call out to him and he snaps out of it. “Howl. I forgot my towel in there. Could you bring it to me?”

His eyes widen and his heart thumps in his chest. Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? He pulls himself out of the bath and shakily grabs your towel before making the trip next door.

You think he’ll just leave it outside so you get up to grab it but then he opens the door right as you step out of the bath, the water dripping down your fully naked body.

His eyes rake all over your body and he almost drops the towel in shock. But he can’t stop looking. His blood is burning in his veins, but he can’t stop looking. His lungs feel like they’re ablaze, but he can’t stop looking. You look so perfect, so heavenly.

You break the silence. “I-I thought y-you’d leave the towel outside the door.” Your cheeks flood with red.

He lets out a strangled chuckle, as his eyes continue to roam. “I… yeah, I was just… I’ll just…”

You bite your lip and it shoots his heart straight into the stratosphere.

He takes a hesitant step towards you.

You swallow.

He takes another step, taking in every inch of you.

You can’t help but do the same, admiring his bare body.

He takes another step, finally finding himself directly in front of you. “I just…” He continues and then trails off.

“Yes?” You lean in closer to him, but that’s all you do.

You’re so close to him, your breaths begin to mingle with each other.

“J-just…” He finds himself staring at your lips. Of all the parts of you to be staring at, that’s what he’s settled on. He swallows. “Just… can I…?”

“Yes.”

It only takes a second for him to swallow up all the tension between you, closing the distance, and claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. His hands wander the smooth expanse of your body, memorizing every curve. His kisses are possessive, like he needs to make his mark on you before he wakes up and finds this all a dream. His tongue moves urgently through your mouth, like he might find heaven in the back of your throat.

“Howl…” You whine.

He groans at the sound, gripping your hips tighter and pulling you flush up against him.

“Fuck. Howl, don’t stop.”

Lust flares in his eyes at your words. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I can’t get enough of you,” He pants, eager to claim your lips again.

After a couple more dizzying kisses, you murmur in a daze, “You taste better than I imagined.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck. You imagined me?”

You trace the length of his bare back, your slender fingers eliciting shivers from him. “All the time. All the damn time.”

He pushes you against the wall and you gasp at the cold tile on your back. “Howl, that’s cold!”

He smirks. “I promise I’ll warm you up.” He traces hot kisses down your neck, down your breasts, stopping to suck on a peaked nipple, before trailing his kisses further down your abdomen. He kneels in front of you, eyeing your dripping cunt. He’s waiting for permission.

“Are you gonna gawk all day or are you going to taste me?”

He chuckles at your bold words. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before. I like it.” And without another word, he brings his head in between your legs, hungrily lapping at your wet heat. Every whimper and every whine he coaxes from your lips makes him eager to taste more of you. The rough strokes of his tongue dragging itself up and down your slit overwhelms you and you think you might just come on his face. Then he jams his tongue inside you, moaning as your depths envelop him, your slick drizzling down his throat as he swallows. And you do come on his face, fist in his hair, as you moan his name.

He groans as your orgasm floods into his mouth.

You’ve not even finished all the way, the evidence of your desire still trickling down your legs, when suddenly he pulls away from you; before you can complain about his absence, he shoves his bulging erection deep inside your swollen cunt, gasping as your slick coats his cock.

“Howl!” You dig your nails into his back as you adjust to the new sensation.

He sighs, the sound filled with ecstasy. “If you keep saying my name like that, I won’t be able to last much longer.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” You gasp out.

He shakes his head, grunting as he thrusts into you. “I do. I want to enjoy every second of this.”

His fingers carve canyons into your hips as he steadies himself against your skin.

“Howl…” You groan again, letting your head fall back against the wall. “I want you. I need you.”

His eyes darken as he soaks in the sound of your whines. “I’m right here, darling.” He picks up the pace, though still restraining himself.

“And you feel so good inside me,” You bite your lip, “I bet you’d feel even better pumping your seed into me.”

He swears under his breath, but he can’t muster up the strength for anymore words, all his strength has been poured into resisting you, into resisting the urge to let go. But his strength dwindles quickly at the sight of you flushed beneath him, at the sounds of your moans echoing against the tiled walls. He slams his cock deeper and then finds his release with his tongue in your mouth, swallowing down your pleasure as he fills you up.

You both don’t move for a moment. You just stand there, shuddering, panting, holding each other for support.

Then you start to laugh and he laughs with you.

“You may as well take a bath with me since you’ve already seen me naked,” You tease, jerking a thumb towards the tub.

He grins widely. “Well, if you insist.”

“Oh, I do.” You say devilishly, leading him towards the bath.

You both slide into the tub, sighs escaping your lips, as the warm water envelops both your bodies. You snuggle up against him, soaking in the beauty of the moment.

“You know,” He says thoughtfully, “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

You lift your chin up to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you mean Sophie?”

He shakes his head. “I thought that’s what I wanted, but you were right there, right in front of me the whole time. I’ve only ever needed you. I…” He hesitates, but the feeling of you snug against him gives him courage, “I love you.” Then he grins. “And not just like a best friend.”

You laugh and kiss his chest. “Well how about that? I love you too.”

He beams. “Even after all this time?”

You kiss his cheek. You kiss his forehead. You kiss his lips. He sighs, savoring the feeling of your lips on his skin.

You nuzzle up against his ear and murmur, “Especially after all this time.”

#howls moving castle #howl pendragon #anime #oneshot #anime fanfic #fluff #smut #howl jenkins pendragon #studio ghibli

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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 year ago

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Camellia

Summary: He’d give you everything you ever wanted if you asked for it. He gave you his heart, as you gave him his. And if you asked for the moon, he’d throw a lasso around it and pull it down for you.

Fluff, Angst? (Existential? Worries of Unfaithfulness?), Mafia au, Slightly Suggestive, Established Relationship au

Word Count: 1,563

Minghao (The8) X Reader

[Mentions: Chan and Wonwoo]

Not Requested

Prompt: 8. (Bias) giving you frosted flowers

(Influences: RPS episode from Going SVT, and Highlight/IDUBILY performance from the Follow concert-movie. (Oh, and “It’s a Wonder Life”))

[A/n: Little different then how I usually write- but the china line has done numbers on my brain. But please enjoy anyways. Oh, and a special thanks to @jinkoh for pulling me further down the rabbit hole. Also, it's prompt 8 with the8 hehe~]

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As a mafia man, he can get anything he wants, any time he wants it. So, if you wanted the moon, he’d throw a lasso around it and pull it in for you. And when you mentioned in passing that you really enjoyed these frosted flowers that you saw all over your socials. He knew what he had to do. And when he asked you about them, you’d shrug and go, ‘It’s no big deal, they’re probably just fake anyway.’ He’d have his men figure it out.

When he started dating you, he knew you were the one with how you calmed him. You quailed his angry heart, the heart that only ever wanted revenge and to watch the world burn for his childhood. But you, you were like a summer breeze that overtook his mind. You made him realize what it felt like to cool down, and finally start healing that part of himself. And when he had to lend you the reins, he saw just how perfect you were for him.

It was six months into your relationship when he had gotten sick. And he had asked you to oversee his operations. He never told you, but he watched the cameras through his phone to make sure you were safe. Although he knew you were good with a gun and a knife now, he still worried. He smiled as he watched you. At first, his lackeys were iffy. You had just started being his partner, not their boss. So, they were rolling their eyes and the second they stopped talking over you. You turned ruthless, and if he felt better, he’d be doing more than just watching you. And they instantly fell into line, following your every instruction even after he got better. While he has found you attractive from the moment you walked into his life. He fell even harder in love with you the second he saw your capabilities on the field. You were stronger and sweeter than he could have ever imagined. So, whatever you wanted, even if it was small, like a side-off request. He’d get it for you.

While he was still a ruthless and fast mafia boss, he still took time to be quiet and slow with you. He sees your woes as his own and cares for them kindly. When you’ve had a bad day, he’ll make sure his men take care of it while he takes care of you. You became his number-one priority faster than he could speak. For the fastest-working man in the business and the quickest on his feet, you’d leave him stunned and speechless. Unable to breathe just because you said, ‘Hi’. He prays that you never walk in when he’s interrogating someone, or he’d be dumbstruck and forget his own name.

And while it wasn’t a request, and it was just something you saw, he asked everyone around his estate. Wondering if they knew any florists who could get him real frosted flowers. Someone who would ensure the flowers live long and prosper even with the frost on them. It took a week before he found the man who could make it happen. Wonwoo, while he was associated with another mafia, Minghao knew he was the only one who could make his lover's dreams come true. So, he did what any sensible man would do, and informed him that he was only there for flowers not for business. And Wonwoo agreed to curate them, even though their relations were tense at the time. After all, that’s why he opened his shop after his mafia had soared to rival Minghao’s. And after a few visits at the floral shop, he got not one but three versions of the same flower.

One of the gifts was tea he'd make for you after showing you everything he got you. He barked orders to the others as he headed to the base, your guy's home, “You better make sure none of those pesky rats are following us. I know they okayed my flowers, but they better stay the hell away.” Chan immediately went, “Yes, sir, right away, sir.” He stayed behind in his souped-up Lincoln, waiting and checking his mirrors. All was clear as Minghao drove safely to the base. No one dared to follow him except his men as he sped home. When he arrived home, after opening various locks, he walked to his part of the house, his door opening with an eyeball scan. While the others accompanying him, except Chan, went to their parts of the estate. He walked through the door, kicked off his shoes, and ensured you weren’t around before heading to the kitchen, where he found you.

He pouted but quickly shook it off and set the planter and bags aside before coming around the island. You were on alert the second he said, “Baby?” You turned around fast, pointing a buttered knife at him. He moved back, and you quickly apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” He laughs, “It’s okay.” You put it down and said, “You’re home sooner than I expected. Why’s that?” He holds back his smile before moving his hand out from behind his back and showing you a bouquet of frosted camellias. You blink at him, trying not to cry, and yet you still do as you accept them from his hands. “How did you get these?” He smiles, “I pulled a few strings, but it was easy.” You squint, “Nothing bad, right?” He shakes his head immediately, and you happily hug the bouquet to your chest before moving it into one hand and opening your arms for him.

He happily accepts your affections and wraps his arms around you tightly, “You didn’t have to.” You whisper into his chest, and he laughs, “I wanted to.” You mumble, and he asks you to repeat it. And you ask, “But why?” And he sighs softly, “You want the moon? Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it.” You move your head up to look him in the eyes, “Hao…” He smiles, “What?” You shake your head and lift your hand to run your fingers through his long hair, “I love you, you softie.” He waits for you to pause your movements before kissing your forehead, “I love you too, baby.” You pull away, untangling your fingers from his hair. When you sniff the flowers, you get a good look at them and realize they’re camellias. “Don’t these mean love, affection, beauty, and refinement?” He hums and says, “Excellence and faithfulness, too.” You look him in the eyes, “Do you mean every word?” He smiles, looking deeply into your eyes, “Every word.”

It’s always been a silly worry implanted into your head that someone as powerful as him would want loads of lovers. But he only wants you, that he’ll always stay faithful to you. “Positive?” You ask one more time just in case, and he smiles. He grabs your hand and raises it to his lips, “I promise to always remain faithful to you and only you.” Before kissing your hand and continuing, “I vowed it the second I laid eyes on you. You’re the only one for me.” You try not to let your tears fall as he goes, “I got two other things for you.” You whine, “Hao!” And he giggles, “I know. But I want to give you everything I can.” You shake your head at him, and he pulls away, walking around the island. And picks up and puts a large pot on the counter, “There are the same flowers, not frosted, but grown throughout gentle winter conditions.” You nod, and he smiles as you look at them more thoroughly. After you look over the beautiful blooms, he puts the tea box on the counter, “I thought we could have a tea ceremony with it.” You smile, “I’d love to.”

While he begins prepping for the ceremony, you finish buttering your bread and bring the two slices over. You join him on the ground, just by your balcony door. He pours out the first cup before pouring you a glass and him one. You drink it and take in the warmth and tranquility. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. Maybe tomorrow will be different. But what you both have is right and right now. And that's all you two needed.

He has you both meditate, and all you can think as you close your eyes is that not every day you have is promised with him. You sigh. Is tomorrow ever really promised to anyone? No. And while he may have a dangerous living. As long as he was precautious, as he always is, he'd be okay. And he'd always return to your arms. And if the beautiful queens of winter, the camellia flowers, can survive the winter. So could the two of you. When you finally open your eyes, you see him contentedly staring at you, “What?” He grins, “You look so beautiful.” “Hao!” He giggles, “I love catching you off guard.” “Whatever you say, my handsome prince.” He blushes at that, and you can't help but smirk. It would be okay. Because if one of you needed anything or wanted something. Whether it was from the smallest of things to the largest of problems, you'd have each other's back.

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calsvoid · 4 months ago

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for the character ask 002 Bobby Nash

(I love how you're fighting with polls, I also hate that you can't delete them)

character ask game

reply threads are so great tumblr can you make a fucking x button for polls

anyway

version two — give me a character and i will tell you:

how I feel about this character:

i need to fuck that old man

and then also hold him tight and keep him safe because he needs stability and love in his life and let him know that he never needed to be perfect or even great and the pain he suffered wasn’t a punishment it was just life and it’s not his time yet

all the people I ship romantically with this character:

it’s athena it’s just athena who else no one could beat THE athena grant they’re soulmates i love them they’re so perfect each other THE married couple of all time even if i wanted to ship anyone else i couldn’t because she’s literally right there and nobody else matters

my non-romantic OTP for this character:

will never not hate rockmond for taking away bobby and michael bestieism from me they were perfect together husbands in law besties god brought them together because god can be kind sometimes and by god i mean tim there was always support between the two of them and they were so good at communicating their issues and urghhh just every scene between the two of them is amazing

also him and the kids like the firehouse field trip and all his moments with may and always caring about them ugh i love this family if they don’t give me more moments next season ill fight someone

my unpopular opinion about this character:

i think the only one i have remotely is that i don’t want him to retire yet, i think they absolutely could do well with it (especially if that one food truck idea gets followed through ppeawepleaseoleasepleawepleaseeapsleapslewapslw) but ill just miss him as captain even though i know his attitude towards his job isn’t like athena’s so it might happen but ill be sad because change is hard

one thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

um his fucking house didn’t burn down

no bc i get it but oh my fucking god BRING THE GRANT NASH HOUSE BACK TO ME TIM YOU ARE EVIL AND YOU BETTER BE READY WHEN I FIND YOU

also my previous answer before season seven probably would’ve been more details on his childhood but guess what tim hates me and he wants to make both me and my husband suffer through the horrors

my OTP:

me and bobby

lol no it’s bathena of course it is, they are such a beautiful couple and i’m on my rewatch and “thanks for coming to get me” “always” never fails to make me a believer in true love like it is insane how much love you can pack into one word they’ve always got each other’s backs and they are just soooo in love they’re everything to me

my crossover ship:

once again no one because i’m not big into crossovers unless real life counts then it’s me and bathena

a headcanon fact:

i like to think after he retires he’ll be a lot more involved in charity work and whatnot, like he’d probably still help a lot with the 118 fundraisers and then do more with his local church. he and buck would probably make homemade meals and donate them to a shelter idk i just think it’s cute. and the firefam kids help too because kindness and volunteer hours

#911 #bathena #bobby nash

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sukirichi · 3 months ago

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NO FR!! cuz he was just an insecure boy forced into a life he was never meant to live, he was supposed to be frolicking in fields and making flower crowns for a living, not being kidnapped by some power hungry psycho who deemed his current life to be too pitiful.

like don’t get me wrong, my heart is a little broken for omi, but like you’re so good at building chemistry between characters - i think no matter who was endgame, i would’ve been heartbroken.

but i really hope the suna’s get to have a humble quiet life, maybe with a kid and a flower field perfect for harvesting and making crowns out of. (also just the symbolism and parallels of a flower crown compared to the heavy bejewelled crowns they’d worn before would be so😭🥲🥲🥲)

wait pause - there’s still two chapters left tho💀, so who knows maybe rin isn’t end game and he actually does end up being more like a platonic partner and omi comes back 😗

- shhh anon

“he was forced into a life he was never meant to live.” yes!! omg i actually like, think about this a lot like what if rin had grown up with his biological parents, what could’ve happened! so anyways i’m going to be yapping here BUT me thinks that if he’d lived normally, they would’ve struggled financially, yknow, but maybe rintaro could’ve realized that whoa hey he’s actually pretty good at volleyball so he lands a scholarship in this really nice school and he’s somewhat decent in his academics either. and his parents are just so supportive of him, like they try their best to support rintaro in reaching his dreams. but also i think that in this timeline, he would still meet dtd!yn because i think she’d be close to tobio, who is a great volleyball player and she accompanies tobio in his inter-high competitions, bumps into rintaro, and its just!! SPARKS FLYYYY but also rintaro kinda distances himself from her because obviously she’s like way beyond his league soooo... ALSO HELLO? FLOWER CROWNS? the symbolism tho omg 😭

also GAHSJKA thank you!! honestly i was pretty firm in the endings i had chosen but writing omi and rin’s relationships with the reader was honestly such a journey that i actually got very confused too like? who should i choose? even i myself can’t really say which one is more suitable for us because YESSS even though omi is the obvious better option, we also can’t deny that dtd!yn has a deeper connection with rin. yes, she loves kiyoomi, she wants to be with him, but her heart has never questioned that rin means a lot to her. “i think no matter who was the endgame, i would’ve been heartbroken.” honestly me too!! i’ve thought about how it would go if the other was endgame and like... i feel like no one is winning because i don’t want either of them to hurt any more than they already do 😭

suna living a life in the fields!! i talk about this with my friend a lot and we loveee the concept of farmer suna so much, we have so much thoughts on it <3 YEAH two more chapters left so we really don’t know! anything can happen at this point *evil laughter*

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #series: dusk till dawn #shhh anon #long ask

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jimmy-valmer-official · 1 year ago

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Gonna be so random and unnecessarily insane about this for a minute but I made a pokémon team for Jimmy. Word vomit and some pictures under the cut.

First off, the best candidate I could think of for him to have as a partner pokemon is a Raichu. The color pallet is perfect and the concept is even more so… he could use the electric abilities to power up his microphone and cameras and stuff (he probably gets shocked a bunch of times through his crutches though).

Anyways. His Raichu could have a little microphone and sit on his shoulder while he preforms. It’s perfect. See my vision? I already drew it in a previous post.

The next pokemon I can see him having is a Mr. Mime, unsurprisingly. It has a fun-oriented personality, looks like a clown, yada yada. But the main reason I thought of it was because Jimmy showed interest in making impressions of people during his debut, and what is Mr. Mime if not an impressionist?

I think his Mr. Mine could easily be a leading inspiration for him or a breath of fresh air after getting back from a tiring comedy show. Maybe both. Sometimes it stars in the shows… Definitely has a boisterous personality that Jimmy is completely unphased by.

Coming up third is a Jigglypuff. I’ve seen a lot of people give him a Jigglypuff, and honestly? King shit. Solely wanted to put one on his team because the idea of him getting pranked and like, being put to sleep unconventionally and then waking up to a drawing of a million dicks on his forehead is both super funny and definitely something that he’d find hilarious.

Definitely attainted it on accident, and loves it to bits. Also, they definitely play pranks together as well. That’s a very crucial part of their friendship.

Also. It just has that look in its eyes.

Okay. I wanted to add some bigger pokemon now, and after some debating, I settled on a Stoutland and a tauros. Here’s why.

First off, again, the color pallets are amazing. But to be more specific. I wanted Jimmy to have a loyal and older partner to balance put the wonky first three. Because even though Jimmy loves messing around, he also has a very clear set of morals and isn’t solely a silly little guy. A dog-like pokemon fit him pretty well (i think hes an in-betweener when it comes to cats vs. dogs, but most cat pokemon are pretty snarky and i dont think he’d be a huge fan of that), and Stoutland is the perfect partner for anyone.

I’d say Stoutland is his main traveling partner, but he’d only ride on his back if he was really tired. They mostly just walk together, and they have a really close bond. Stoutland is definitely his number one emotional support system.

Tauros, on the other hand, is a pokemon that caught my eye because it matches his zodiac sign (we have the same sign and im a nerd, sue me) and tends to be more stubborn. Which fits, because Jimmy is also stubborn. He literally almost got himself shot because he refused to put advertisements in his newspaper.

I think that since Tauros is naturally built like a tank, it’d make a good battling partner. Jimmy would definitely use it just to intimidate people on the field, and I can see it as one of his main (if not the main) battler. But I also think that it’d have a very sweet nature, and maybe it was one of his first pokemon. It probably tried to kill him when they first met.

And lastly, I’m going to put my foot down and say with confidence that he would have a Nickit on his team.

Just hear me put.

Nathan’s a tricky guy, and he’s also literally the only person in the world that actively hates Jimmy. Jimmy isn’t even really aware of this either. And Nickits are very similar to Nathan in the sense that they often cause trouble.

I think that Nathan, at some point in his quest to make Jimmy’s life terrible (or kill him), gifted him a Nickit as a “friendly gesture” in hopes that it’d cause him trouble. And Jimmy would without a doubt accept the gift.

Nathan’s plans always backfire though, so I think that even if the Nickit caused trouble, Jimmy would find a way to befriend it eventually. He’d probably make an effort to understand it and end up gaining its trust.

Anyways. I think the Nickit would be a fun contrast to Jimmy and could add some small conflicts by stealing and starting shit. And Jimmy would just be chasing it around like “Oh, sorry about that miss, im not sure why hes acting like this today” after nickit steals an entire breadloaf or something (and not for the first time, either— maybe Jimmy has a little too much faith in its ability to behave). Maybe it even joined the Bloods too, who knows.

And thats it?? I had a lot of fun putting this together and coming up with everything. I might change some stuff and draw some stuff later, who knows.

Thanks for reading if you did! I had to get it out of my system.

#jimmy valmer #south park #sp #pokemon #pokemon team #headcanons

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ollieofthebeholder · 7 months ago

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to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 118: May 2018

For several long moments—moments they probably, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t have—nobody moved. Martin felt as though he had fused both to the floor and to his family, numbed by shock and a renewal of the grief he’d buried at the age of nine and never, until this moment, realized he hadn’t dealt with. Melanie clung to his right side, Jon to his left; he felt the chill emanating from Gerry at his back mingling with Tim’s warmth. Even Daisy, tentatively, had found his hand and squeezed it in a silent sympathy that told him she’d never dealt with her own grandfather’s death either.

The words that broke the silence were not ones Martin would have expected to say, nor were they particularly important. “I still can’t remember what he looked like.”

“I bet there’s a picture in the employee records somewhere,” Sasha said. “Even if it is thirty years out of date. We’ll find one when…when we have time.”

Martin exhaled heavily. Right. There was a crisis going on. “Yeah. Speaking of…” He extracted himself, as gently as possible, from the cluster of a hug—which fell apart easily enough—and picked up the tape recorder. “Is there any chance you know where they are right now?”

The recorder rumbled for a moment, like it was fast-forwarding, then clicked softly. Peter Lukas’ voice came through the speaker. “Are you going to bring that with you?”

“Not unless you want a record for later.” Basira’s voice was, if anything, even less emotional than usual.

“You don’t want Daisy to hear it?”

“Should I?”

“My, you are good at this.” The proud, pleased note in Peter’s voice made Martin feel sick, and he noticed Daisy curl her hands into fists momentarily. “Anyone else would have wanted their partner to know what happened to them.”

“Don’t have a partner. Haven’t for a long time.” Martin could hear the shrug in Basira’s voice. “Anyway, there’s no point, is there? I’ll leave them the tape that tells them we’re going. They won’t try to interfere, and they’ll know I’m not coming back.”

“Perfect. Well, we’ll just put this away then.”

The recorder clicked off. Martin sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

Tim put his arm around Daisy’s shoulders and hugged her; for a wonder, she accepted it, and even hugged him back. To Martin, he asked, “Do we have a chance of finding her? Or getting ahead of her?”

Martin hesitated. “We…have a chance, because there’s always a chance. It’s just next to zero. The only reason Jon and I were able to map the upper levels of the tunnels as well as we did was because Leitner was bullying them into submission—under ordinary circumstances, they change on a whim, probably to keep people away from the Panopticon. Add that to the fact that we don’t know how much of a head start they’ve got—and my little, uh, field trip probably put us at a disadvantage there—and it’s just…it’ll take a miracle.”

Melanie put her hands on her hips. “Got one of those handy?”

Under other circumstances, Martin might have said something saccharine like I’ve got you, isn’t that enough? It didn’t feel like the right time, though. “Best I can give you is a last-minute million-to-one desperate chance.”

Melanie touched the lilac behind her ear briefly, but didn’t say anything. He knew what she was thinking without having to resort to the Eye. Daisy squared her shoulders. “It’ll have to do, right? We know they’re…probably going to that Panopticon thing, so all we have to do is find that.”

“Is that all,” Sasha scoffed.

“We still need a key. A map. Something.” Martin squeezed the recorder briefly. “Granddad, I don’t suppose Granny Robinson would have committed anything like that to tape, did she?”

Tim choked. “Granny Robinson?”

“Uh. That slipped out.” Martin could feel himself blushing.

“I think she’d appreciate that from you.” Gerry managed a small half-smile. “But I’m guessing either there’s not a tape out there or it’s not easy to get at.”

Martin sighed. “We’ll have to do this the hard way, then. If we’re doing it.”

“What do you mean, if?” Daisy scowled at him.

“You know Basira better than anyone,” Martin said, meeting Daisy’s eyes. “What she said about us not interfering. Was she just saying that to placate Peter Lukas, or as a warning to us?”

Daisy wavered briefly. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled more deeply. “You going to force me to answer?”

“I could,” Martin said, as calmly as possible. “But I won’t.”

Daisy stared at him, then at the tape. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed deeply, suddenly looking tired. “If it’s one of those, it’s to placate Peter Lukas, but I don’t know. She’s got…tells when she’s just telling a superior what she thinks they want to hear, but I don’t know if I’m not hearing them because she isn’t or because she’s got good at covering it up.” The Welsh in her voice was beginning to come out a bit, a sure sign she was under stress. “It could be she genuinely doesn’t think we’d bother.”

“Good enough for me,” Melanie said. “She’s not telling us not to go down there, so we need to find the Panopticon.”

Jon gazed out over the Archives again. “Where do we start?”

“1800s,” Tim said unhesitatingly. “We found that one letter from Smirke, remember? If we’re going to find anything else useful, it’ll be there. Damn, I wish there were actual blueprints of the place in those drawers.”

“The Panopticon wouldn’t be on it,” Martin said with a flash of insight he really would rather not have had, thanks all the same. “Smirke didn’t want it, said it was cruel and unusual—and it was—but more than that, Jonah Magnus altered the original plans. I—” He broke off and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples briefly to ward off the nascent migraine. “Fuck, I didn’t need that right now.”

“I don’t want to ask you to fall deeper into the Ceaseless Watcher—” Sasha began.

“Then don’t,” Jon said sharply.

Martin put a hand on Jon’s shoulder and tried to give him a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Jon. Even if she asks, I can’t.”

“Damn right,” Melanie muttered.

“No, I mean literally, I can’t.” Martin glanced at the trapdoor. “You know how hard it is for me to See down there? The deeper I get, the worse it gets. I…maybe if we were actually down there, I could See part of the way they went, but not the whole path. And there’s…” He hesitated. “Maybe a seventy-two percent chance it’s been too long and the trail will have faded too much for even me. I’m not saying I won’t try. I’m just saying it won’t be easy.”

“Don’t know how much help I’ll be,” Daisy said. “Not without going too deep. But it’s Basira, so maybe I can—” She suddenly froze. Martin swore her ears pricked up.

He was about to ask what was wrong when he felt it—a stabbing pain where the sliver of metal from the accident with the seal in the Library was still embedded, nearly drowned out by a wave of awareness, alarm, and protectiveness that suddenly washed over him and nearly engulfed him. Intruders! Invaders! Encroachers! Something was breaching his—the Institute.

“Fuck,” he said tightly, fighting the urge to let the Ceaseless Watcher have some control and see if he could use it to fight this threat—whatever it was—off. “Peter’s gone. If he was the only thing stopping the Institute from—”

A sudden booming crack, muffled but distinct, echoed from somewhere above them, and Martin jerked his head upwards. The desire—the need—to Look was almost too strong to resist, but he didn’t need to, because he definitely recognized that sound.

Gunfire.

Someone was shooting in his Institute.

Gerry’s entire body went rigid as more shots rang out and faint screams began emanating down from above. Daisy cursed in Welsh. “Different guns. There’s more than one person up there.”

“We need to get out of here.” Tim reached for Gerry’s arm. “Come on—”

“We can’t just leave them!” Melanie cried, looking at the door that led to the main part of the Institute.

“Look,” Tim argued, “when there’s an active shooter situation, you either hide or you get out if you can. We’ve got a clear escape for now, and we can’t do anything about—”

“Go,” Martin, Daisy, and Gerry all said in the same breath.

Naturally, none of the others did. They all just looked confused and a little alarmed. Before Martin could put a bit of compulsion into his voice—he didn’t want to, but if it was the only way to get them all out safe he would force them to go—the door to the Archives burst open as someone rammed it with a shoulder. There was someone over their shoulder with a drawn gun, and the first person quickly straightened and raised a gun too.

Behind the guns were two of the last people Martin wanted to see right about then.

“Hello, lad.” Trevor Herbert’s smile was noticeably less friendly than the last time Martin had seen it, not that that was any surprise.

“You miss us?” Julia Montauk leered at him.

“Not remotely.” Martin kept his voice calm with an effort. “Wouldn’t have thought there was anything for you here.”

“Oh, didn’t you?” Trevor said coldly. “You’re here. Somehow.”

Julia sighted her gun. “Wonder if you’re still human enough to bleed?”

Before Martin could react—pushing Jon and Melanie away, shoving in front of his people, calling on the Ceaseless Watcher to defend them—Daisy stepped in front of him. “Get away from him.”

“Oho, what’s this?” Trevor bared his black and yellow teeth in a malevolent grin. “Got yourself a guard dog?”

“Woof,” Daisy snarled.

Jon took a quick breath, and Martin knew what he was going to do before he did it but wasn’t fast enough to stop him. “Drop the guns and get out.”

It almost worked…for about half a second. But Jon’s connection to the Web was nowhere near as strong as Trevor or Julia’s connection to the Hunt, and from the appraising looks they gave him after shaking off his attempt at compelling them, he had just made one of the biggest errors he’d made in…well, at least three days, if Martin was being honest.

“You really think it’ll be that easy?” Julia sneered.

“Fucking try me, bitch.” Melanie yanked free of Sasha’s hand. From the way her leg dragged as she lunged forward, Martin could tell her Slaughter Mark was hurting—his own twinged in sympathy—but it didn’t stop her.

Martin was going to need to, though. She and Jon were both preparing to fight Trevor and Julia—to protect him—and they would lose, they would die immediately, Martin would be forced to watch the two people he loved most in the world bleed out right in front of him and Know there was nothing he could do for either of them, and no matter if he lived until the world ended, he wouldn’t survive that. He couldn’t let Daisy fight them, either, she’d worked too hard to get away from the Hunt and if—

“Lucky Strikes?”

The words caught Martin off-guard, not because he’d forgotten Gerry was there, but because he was sure he would have either left or been incapacitated from not taking someone’s life. But he was still there, standing perfectly still, expression completely neutral. His eyes were fastened on Trevor’s front pocket.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Trevor said with a curl of his lip. “I owe you something as well, you little bastard.”

Martin would swear for the remainder of his existence that he didn’t see Gerry move. One moment he was at the back of the group, looking over Tim’s shoulder, and the next he was stood in front of all of them, directly in front of Trevor and Julia, arms stretched out to either side like a stained glass window depicting the Ascension of Christ. From the way Trevor swore and raised his gun, Martin guessed they hadn’t seen him move either.

“You should have quit smoking years ago.” Gerry’s voice resonated with the same hollow echoing Martin had heard only a couple of times before—in the House of Wax and at his mother’s bedside. The air around him practically crystallized as the temperature dropped. His eyes turned pure white, as did his hair, which stood out in a halo around his head. He raised his arms slowly, long slender white fingers flexing, then reached towards Trevor and Julia and made a pulling motion.

Both their eyes widened. Julia made a gakking sound as something black and ichorous flowed from her throat; Trevor wheezed once as something similar was extracted from his lungs. Gerry held the long strings taut for a moment, then flicked his hands upwards. The black ichor dissipated. Trevor and Julia both seemed to fade slightly, like a photograph put under a grey filter, and then dropped to the floor with dull, wet thuds, guns clattering away.

Gerry’s hair settled against his shoulders. The white sucked out of about two thirds of it, replaced with a mottled orange and black like a monarch butterfly’s wing, and the hazel returned to his eyes as he lowered his hands.

“Those things will kill you,” he completed, staring down at the corpses at his feet.

There was a moment of utter silence, which was something of a relief. It was broken by Daisy pulling out the pack of Airwaves gum Basira had evidently left for her and silently passing Jon a piece. Jon took it even though Martin knew damn well he didn’t like blackcurrant.

Sasha took a deep breath, obviously preparing to say something. Before she could do more than open her mouth, however, there was a sudden explosion of wood that made Jon almost leap into Martin’s arms. Splinters rained around them, and Martin whirled around to see what fresh hell was raining down on them now.

His lungs flattened against the back of his rib cage. The thing that had erupted from the remains of the trapdoor to the tunnels bore, at the very least, a superficial resemblance to Rosie Zampano, or at least the Rosie Zampano that Martin remembered, but…taller, somehow. Thinner. Stretched out. With too many joints in its limbs.

And that smile…if you could call it a smile…

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Melanie burst out, her voice shrill. Martin could hear that she was at least as scared as she was angry. “Anything else?”

“Don’t even joke, Melanie.” Martin was already running scenarios in his head. None of them ended well, but there was one thing he knew—whether it was the Beholding giving him that knowledge or just training and an educated guess, he wasn’t sure, but he did know it—and that was that Peter Lukas had let it out. Jurgen Leitner had trapped the Not-Them in a wall to save Jon, using a copy of The Seven Lamps of Architecture to do so. Peter must have somehow obtained the book and used it to free it from its prison.

Which meant he was trying to keep them distracted. Which meant there was a good chance they could get there in time to stop him.

Daisy rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and turned to Gerry. There was something in her expression Martin couldn’t read, but at the same time, it felt oddly familiar. “Promise me something,” she said in a low voice. “When this is over, you need to find me. And kill me. Promise.”

Tim made a strangled noise of protest, but Gerry gave a single nod. Daisy whirled around and hunched her shoulders as the Not-Them charged towards her, and Martin opened his mouth to object, to step in, to take the battle on himself, something, it was too late for him but it didn’t have to be for her—

There was a sort of twisting of reality, something warping in front of them, and then a door—not a trapdoor but an actual wooden door—appeared on the floor directly in front of the Not-Them. It swung inward, and the Not-Them, unable to stop its headlong rush, screamed with fear and rage as it fell into the door, which slammed shut behind it and vanished.

Gerry and Tim both put a hand on Daisy’s shoulders, and she blinked, her breath ragged as she struggled to come back to herself. Before Martin had time to even think the words “what the fuck”, let alone say them, the door reappeared and the Distortion stepped out, smiling.

No. No, not the Distortion. Martin took in the pansy blue eyes, the tilt to the chin, the erect but relaxed posture, and said, “Michael.”

Michael’s smile widened—not the preternaturally outsized smile of the Distortion, but an almost roguish grin. “Sorry that took so long. I wasn’t sure I could do it if it wasn’t near a wall, but, well…”

“Where did it go?” That probably wasn’t the most important question right about now, but Martin didn’t think he could move on from this point without knowing the answer.

“I gave it a door out. It…might have been near the top of an oil derrick in the middle of the ocean.”

Daisy shook her head and croaked out, “Why?”

Michael’s expression grew serious. He stepped all the way through the door, but didn’t close it. “I heard the tape—the ritual. I think Alastair’s spell might have protected me, too.”

Melanie started and looked from Martin to Michael and back. “Fuck, does that mean you’re siblings?”

“No,” Martin said. Realization hit him all at once. “Granddad named her as Gertrude Robinson, the Archivist, and asked protection on her and her ‘line’. Because he invoked the Archivist name, it protects her line in that sense too. So anyone who ever worked under her—or under any subsequent Archivist—falls under its jurisdiction.”

Michael nodded. “Emma never liked the tape recorders and Sarah thought they were archaic, but Ms. Robinson used them, so I did as well. I had one with me when I went to Sannikov Land, so I could record my progress. It must have given me…something. Easier to fight when you’re around, but…I’m still here.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Daisy asked. She sounded like she was getting her bearings back.

“When the Throat of Delusion Incarnate asks you if you really believe something, or if you’re certain of it, it’s a safe bet that the answer is ‘yes.’ It’s just very good at making you forget that.” Michael looked over his shoulder at the door, then back at Martin. “I—I know where she is. Their path intersects with m—with the Twisting Deceit’s. I can get you…maybe not all the way, but close. I don’t know how long we’ll have before it comes back, so we’ll have to hurry.”

Martin should probably have hesitated. He didn’t. “Let’s go.”

“Can you take all of us?” Jon asked. He put a hand on Martin’s chest, obviously to forestall the protest he had to know was coming. “No more solo adventures, remember? Where you go, I go. That’s the deal.”

“That’s the deal,” Martin agreed. He raised an eyebrow at Michael. “Can you?”

“It might affect how far we can go, but yes, you’ll all be safe as long as you stay together.” Michael pulled the door open. “Come on, then, let’s hurry up.”

Daisy was first to move, Tim and Gerry less than half a step behind her. Martin started to follow, but Jon held him back. Martin turned to face him, prepared to remind Jon that they had to do this, when Jon took his face in his hands, pulled him down, and kissed him.

It was at least as intense as their first kiss, at least as desperate and messy, and if Jon wasn’t already crying he was barely holding back tears. Martin felt a lump rise in his throat as he realized that they had no idea what lay ahead of them, and this might actually be their last chance for this. He tried to give as good as he got.

It was another moment they probably didn’t have, but if there was any moment he was willing to sacrifice the world for, it was this one.

“I love you,” he murmured when they at last pulled away.

“I love you, too,” Jon said quietly. He pressed his forehead to Martin’s, then drew back reluctantly.

Evidently their kiss hadn’t lasted as long as they thought, because Melanie and Sasha were just passing through Michael’s door. Michael winked at them as Jon and Martin followed, then pulled the door shut behind them and got out in front. “Follow me. Stay close. We’ll get as far as we can before it comes back.”

Martin had had his eyes shut the last time he’d gone through these corridors; he’d heard Helen Richardson’s description of them, and Michael’s as well, but he wasn’t so foolish as to think they’d look the same. Which was good, because they didn’t. The walls, floors, and ceilings were all painted eye-bleeding stripes of black and white in random angles and thicknesses that made it difficult to judge distance or perception. Without Michael to guide them, they’d never get far. As they started off, he got as close to Michael as he could. For a while, they hurried in silence at somewhere between a fast walk and a run.

“I’ll do what I can to help get you free of it,” he said at last. Declaring that in the Distortion’s corridors was probably dangerous, but something told him this was the safest time to bring it up. “I don’t know what I can do, but there’s got to be a way. At least to have less time that you have to be the Distortion.”

Michael glanced at him briefly, eyes sparkling. “If anyone can figure it out, you can. The grandson of Alastair Koskiewicz and Gertrude Robinson? And, I’d suspect, the best damn Archivist the Magnus Institute has ever seen.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s a compliment.” Martin caught Jon’s arm to keep him from tripping over his own feet. “Speaking of, I’m almost afraid to ask how badly the time’s being distorted here.”

“I’m…maintaining it. I think. The Twisting Deceit likes to make days seem like minutes, but I’ve sort of learned to work with it over the years. Normally I can fight it and make time pass normally, but I think that—” Michael pointed at the pocket where Martin had secreted the tape recorder and continued, “—gives me a little bit of an edge, and I found another path.”

“A shortcut?”

“Some shortcut,” Sasha gasped out from the tail end of the group. Melanie was dragging her along to help her keep up.

“Mm, how do I explain this?” Michael paused, then shifted direction. Martin bit back a grunt as his shoulder hit a wall that looked further away than it was. “The Spiral plays with everything. Distance, perception, time. They don’t behave the same way here. We’re not exactly following their path in terms of distance. It’s the space between one minute and another. Which is why it’s winding like this,” he added as he turned a corner that almost had them doubling back on themselves. “I had to direct us back to six hours ago when they came through the Archives, and then take you down the path between six hours ago and now.”

“Thanks,” Martin said. “That’s even more confusing.”

“Yeah, well, Eric always said I was rubbish at telling a story straight, so I can’t even blame the Spiral for that.”

They ran through a few more twists and turns. Martin hadn’t bothered trying to keep track of them. He knew that no matter what they looked like, or seemed to look like, they would never be the same twice. Gertrude Robinson’s map wouldn’t work a second time, nor would he want it to, and anyway, navigating through time wasn’t really something Martin wanted to make a habit of. It had too much potential for even worse misuse than the rest of the Fourteen’s powers, and the last thing he wanted to do was relive some of the years he’d had to go through. Or skip any of the years he had coming up. Tempting though it might have been to avoid the bad parts of his life, even the potential ones in the future, he would put up with them if it meant not missing the good ones that he had to have faith were yet to come.

He still had Jon with him, and Melanie, and Gerry, and all the others. There was no way the future could be anything but good.

Michael suddenly pulled up short, his face crunching in an expression Martin knew only too well—he was pretty sure his own face crumpled into that same shape when he was trying to fight the Ceaseless Watcher on occasion. “It’s coming back. You need to go. I don’t know how close you are, but—”

“We’ll find her,” Martin promised. “And I’ll—I meant it. I’ll do what I can to help.”

Michael straightened and looked up at Martin, and his smile was the one he remembered from the man who’d come to the library, warm and kind and full of humor. “You already have. If you three can fight back against what you’ve become, so can I.” His eyes flickered, and he jerked back, then pointed a finger that seemed to flash back and forth between a normal digit and a preternaturally elongated spike of bone. A door suddenly appeared in the wall. “Go. Quick.”

“Go, go, go!” Martin shepherded the others through the door, nodded his thanks once more to Michael, and leaped out of the Distortion’s corridors just before the laugh began.

They found themselves in a roughly hewn stone tunnel that felt at once familiar and strange to Martin. Something about it itched, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’ve never been here before,” he said quietly, “but I know this place.”

Melanie nodded absently. “Yeah, same. I don’t like it.”

Daisy went still for a moment, looking back and forth, then pointed. “This way. They’re close. I can sense them.”

“Go easy,” Tim cautioned. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like this.”

“I know my business, Stoker,” Daisy said, but she went carefully.

They hadn’t gone far when the tunnel curved and suddenly emerged into an open stone chamber, round and barren. Other tunnels were spaced evenly around the room, and at its center was a round stone tower with open windows on all sides—the Panopticon, high enough that they couldn’t see what was inside it. There was an opening just ahead of them, gaping wide to display a set of remarkably intact stone steps.

Gerry suddenly stiffened. “We need to hurry. Someone is about to—”

The loud report of a gun came from the tower above them, followed less than a second later by a second gunshot. Right on the heels of that came a scream—a loud, sharp cry of pain and fear.

“Basira!” Daisy charged up the stairs at a dead sprint. Gerry was only a half-step behind her. Martin cursed and waved to the others as they all took off running.

The steps spiraled upwards, following the circumference of the tower, and finally stopped at a rusted metal gate, which had been shoved aside, admitting them into a flat, empty space with walls around the edge that ended at waist height while somehow keeping anyone below from being able to see past them. The smell of gunpowder still hung in the air.

In the center of the room was an ornately carved chair, in which was seated an eyeless, practically mummified corpse in an expensive but faded Victorian suit. A few feet away from it, giving the impression they had been facing the tableau, two far more recent bodies were sprawled on the ground. The first, lying on his back with a bullet hole in his heart and an expression of surprise and anger on his face, was a man in an expensive but unremarkable blue suit; Martin had never seen his face before, but the family resemblance was unmistakable—he looked enough like Evan that this had to be Peter Lukas. The other, face down in a remarkably large puddle of blood, was wearing the grey trousers and jumper that were standard issue for a prisoner, but even without being able to see his face, he was recognizable as Elias Bouchard. Between them, directly at the feet of what could only be the original Jonah Magnus, on her hands and knees with her head hung down, was Basira…winded, beaten, obviously injured in some way, but still, thankfully, alive.

“Basira!” Daisy started towards her, expression tight with concern, but Gerry threw out an arm to stop her. She turned on him with a snarl, then checked at his expression.

The door in Martin’s mind, the one that he used to keep back the ocean of knowledge that could overwhelm and drown him in an instant if he let it, strained hard against his efforts to keep it closed, but a few drops squeezed past—a sense of dread, and an awareness of something wrong about this scenario. Not just that Elias/Jonah was here at all, but the two bodies, Basira’s scream, the fact that…

There had only been two gunshots.

Martin swallowed hard and had to try twice before he could say, “Basira?”

Basira began to laugh. He’d never heard her laugh before, she was always so serious, but this laugh didn’t sound like the kind she would make if she did laugh, and the way Daisy suddenly tensed and flinched back told him that it really wasn’t normal.

She raised her head and looked at him. It almost appeared she had a concussion; her left eye was so dilated her pupil almost swallowed the brown of her iris, whereas her right eye was completely, one hundred percent normal…except for the fact that it was a cold, eerily familiar grey.

“Hello, Martin,” she said, in a voice that was both hers and carrying an undertone of authority and malice he’d never heard there before. “Apologies for the deception.”

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duhragonball · 2 years ago

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Dragon Ball GT 35

✨GT Stands for Glibly Ticklish✨

All right, so finally, finally, Goku’s a Super Saiyan 4. It took us more than half the series to get here, but-- Oh, shit, they’re making us do this part over again. Dammit.

Seriously, what the fuck was this part even for?

Why are we seeing both versions of Goku? What does this mean? Why isn’t Oozaru Goku here? And baby Goku?

Let’s just skip ahead to when Mr. Satan feels him up. What do you think Super Saiyan 4 body hair feels like, you guys? I have no idea what primate hair feels like... well, maybe I do, since I’m a primate, but I’m not sure this applies here.

I’m gonna say it’s like a cat’s belly. Maybe not all Super Saiyan 4′s, but definitely Goku, since he’s a good boy. Satan seem to enjoy the feel of it.

Back at Baby’s base, he demands to know how Goku pulled off that Great Ape fom, and why he couldn’t do it too. Bulma reminds him that Vegeta’s body doesn’t have a tail. Shouldn’t Baby already be familiar with how this works. He seems to have memories of the Saiyan-Tuffle War, but even if he didn’t, he has access to all of Vegeta’s memories, and Vegeta understood the Oozaru transformation inside and out.

Never mind that shit! Here comes Mongo Goku!

So they fight, and Goku just lets Baby hit him for a while, because I don’t know anymore. In the base he said he’d never forgive Baby, or that he’d make him pay for all of this, but now he’s just like “Sure, beat me up, I’ve got plenty of time.”

Baby goes for a Revenge Death Ball (his third in this series), and Goku just stands there and lets it hit him.

Maybe this is a first for the Dragon Ball franchise? At least for good guys, I mean. Normally, even in a complete mismatch, the stronger fighter will still make some token effort to defend against the attack. Like, remember when Goku hit Frieza with that 20x Kaio-ken Kamehameha? Frieza still held out his hand to block it. Even Super Buu would contort his body to avoid energy blasts. But here, Goku just keeps his arms down and takes it.

But I don’t see the point of doing this. Goku isn’t getting paid by the hour, and it’s not like Baby is threatening to do terrible things to the Earth’s population. He’s already done them. Hell, he hit Pan a few episodes back. Oh, and he blasted both of Goku’s sons.

So Goku starts going on the offensive, but not really, because I’m pretty sure he could kill Baby in two seconds if he wanted to. Baby reminds him that every blow he takes is hurting Vegeta, and Goku reminds Baby that Vegeta can take it. Besides, fuck Vegeta. We’re gonna start worrying about him now? Maybe he should have thought about that when he let Cell become perfect.

Anyway, while Goku beats up Baby, Bulma sets up satellite dishes on the tower she’s in, and uses them to reflect the light reflected from the Earth and focus it directly at Baby. Saiyans require a specific intensity of light at a certain wavelength in order to trigger the ape transformation. When the light reaches their eyes, it activates something in their tails. But Bulma believes that if she amplifies the light enough, then it’ll work on Vegeta’s body, even without a tail.

Baby isn’t entirely sold on her plan, but Goku starts charging up a Kamehameha to finish him off, so Bulma goes for it while she still has the chance.

And I kind of like this aspect of the Tuffleization concept. For the most part, it’s not all that different from the Black Water Mist, except the infected victims still retain enough individuality to pull stunts like these. We kind of saw this earlier when Gohan, Goten, and Trunks tried to help Baby against Uub, even though he didn’t want them to do that. They were too worried about his safety to hold back.

But those guys have nothing to offer Baby in that regard, since he’s stronger than they are. Bulma, on the other hand, has abilities that he doesn’t. While he’s wondering how to turn into a giant ape, she’s already field testing a device to make it happen. And while Bulma would have waited for his order under different circumstances, in this case she’s so afraid for his life that she just jumped at the chance.

The thing is, Baby might have been better off running and hiding. I had been meaning to ask this question for a while now: “Why didn’t Baby just try to possess Goku’s body during this fight?” Well, this episode answers my question. He might have been planning to do exaxctly that, but Bulma stopped him before he could try.

And that is kind of interesting. These infected Earthlings are Baby’s slaves, but their devotion to Baby can lead to situations where they can sometimes work against him. I’m not sure there’s a lot you can do with that in a story like this, but it’s something to think about.

And it works. Baby turns into a giant golden ape, just like Goku was in the last episode, only he’s somehow stronger than Goku this way. So I guess Baby could still try to take over Goku’s body, but now it doesn’t look like he needs to.

✨Positivity Page✨

I gotta say, Evil Tuffle Bulma is really showing me something here.

✨”Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

All right, let’s talk about Super Saiyan 4.

First and foremost, SSJ4 is not an idea. They just wanted Goku to have a new transformation, and so they just took SSJ3 and added 1. That’s all they did. This is no different from some kid who draws a picture of Goku with bat wings and green skin and calls it Super Saiyan 12. There’s a character design, and there’s a number, but there’s not an idea.

To be fair, Super Saiyans 2 and 3 are not really ideas either. The ideas were the story elements that were connected to those forms when they were introduced. Gohan was going to tap into his “hidden power” while maxed out as a Super Saiyan, and they needed a convenient way to show how much he had changed, so he went beyond a Super Saiyan to become something else. That’s the idea behind Super Saiyan 2.

Later, Goku teased a new form he had discovered that promised to go one step further beyond the form Gohan had achieved. That’s not the idea, though, The idea was that Goku had this “Super Saiyan 3″ form, and it didn’t work. He used it on Buu, everyone thought it would save the day, except he couldn’t get the job done. It was a plot device used to explain why the heroes had to rely on Fusion, or the Elder Kai’s magic, or Vegeta’s Spirit Bomb plan, in order to win. The Buu Saga was all about subverting the idea of one warrior rising up to defeat the bad guy. And the only way to subvert that idea was to have one warrior rise up and use his ultimate form and lose. That’s what Super Saiyan 3 was about.

The idea behind Super Saiyan 4 is just “Well, we need another transformation. What if we stacked Oozaru on top of vanilla Super Saiyan?” And I don’t have a huge problem with Toei doing that, but it’s pretty weak, if you asked me. There’s not really a theme behind Goku’s Super Saiyan 4 form. He doesn’t awaken it through despair or anger, and it doesn’t have any obvious weaknesses like Super Saiyan 3.

Here’s my controversial take: They could have done this exact same story, beat for beat, and not even introduced Super Saiyan 4. Instead, they could have had the Elder Kai cook up a way for Goku to turn into an adult and stabilize the SSJ3 for he already had. Hell, tug on his ass with pliers, do the Golden Ape bit, have him taste Pan’s tears if that’s what you really want, but instead of him shrinking back down into a Super Saiyan 4, he could turn into an adult Super Saiyan 3 instead, without the drain on his stamina.

And look, that wouldn’t be as much fun as introducing a new form. I get it. The thing is, anybody can draw a new form for Goku. For years, people have been drawing the SSJ4 design with different color hair and fur, and calling that a new form. Or they’ll put SSJ3 hair on the SSJ4 body. It’s all cosmetic, past a point.

And there’s a lot of fans that thought Super Saiyan 3 was taking it too far. I disagree, but I see their point, as I always found SSJ4 a bridge too far. Then again, I’ve always been skeptical of new transforms in Dragon Ball until I’ve had a chance to see them in action. But I’ve watched GT enough times to have gotten used to SSJ4, and I’ve never really warmed up to it. And why?

I think Baby going Golden Ape has a lot to do with it. Toei spent five episodes building up to Super Saiyan 4, and they couldn’t even let Goku have one episode to properly show it off. He gets in a few hits and suddenly Baby pulls out a transformation of his own to even the playing field.

This starts a troubling pattern that plays out over the rest of the series. Goku uses SSJ4 against Super 17 and loses. He uses it against the Shadow Dragons (well, some of them, anyway), but it’s always touch and go in those fights. And Omega Shenron fights two SSJ4′s and survives.

It’s funny, because there’s this mystique of Super Saiyan 4, where it’s like this secret unbeatable transformation, but GT, the series that pioneered the form, is the one that does the most to tarnish its reputation. Honestly, I think the video games were what made it cool, because you unlock that power and Goku’s stats go wild. But in GT, it never really seems to matter that much.

And that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, because GT never seemed very enthusiastic about Super Saiyans before. Goku and Trunks used SSJ1 only sparingly. Goku used SSJ3 twice against baby, and we’ve yet to see SSJ2 used at all. This show kept playing fast and loose with the “rules” of Super Saiyan forms, leading to situations where it doesn’t really matter what form Goku uses when he fights. And with that kind of attitude, it’s no wonder that Super Saiyan 4 would have a hard time getting a footing in this story.

Design-wise, I’ve never been taken with it. I don’t like the dull-yellow pants, and the hair and body fur just seem silly to me. And yet, I can’t deny the impact. You can’t look away from this guy. He commands your attention, much the same way the other forms did. And I can respect that they wanted to get away from the yellow hair and green eyes. There really wasn’t much further to go in that direction. I just think a different color scheme might have been more pleasing to the eye. Maybe make the fur match the hair. And for the love of Pete, let Goku have his orange pants back.

✨Is this episode worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

This is an historic episode because it debuts a new form, but it also flubs the debut by having Bulma trump it with a better form. And I think it’s absolutely stupid how Goku just lets it all happen. He spends a good chunk of the fight just standing around, letting Baby take free shots, and letting Baby talk to Bulma. I know Goku gets this way when he’s got the advantage over his opponent, but this just takes the problem to an absurd degree. This episode is worse.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

How’d his pants grow back?

Oh! Coffee grinder magic?

Was that the secret?

#dragon ball #dragon ball gt #really sucks #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #goku #baby #pan #mister satan #bulma #*haiku does not come with crown as illustrated

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vgckwb · 2 years ago

Text

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 130: Crosses to Bear

As Ren arrived at school the next morning, she noticed that it was crawling with reporters, cops, and other investigative types. Morgana opened the back just enough to make sure he was heard. “What do you suppose is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Ren said. “But I’d rather not stick around and find out.” She kept her head down and headed for class.

Once class had started, Kawakami addressed the room. “As you may have noticed…”

“’May’ have?!” a student snarked.

Kawakami glared at them. “As I was saying, there have been various groups of people coming here to investigate. You don’t need to be alarmed. They are here for the teachers and other staff members to discuss the Kamoshida incident” The class talked among themselves. “AHEM!” Kawakami said, commanding their attention. “Just give the people investigating some space. They won’t come to you unless you do anything funny, got it?” There was a sense of agreement among the class. “Good. I’d hate to get you all caught up in this mess before your field trip. Now, with that out of the way, let’s begin.”

At lunch, Makoto was wandering the halls, when she saw Miss Kawakami. Kawakami took notice of her. “Ah, perfect timing,” she said. She walked over to Makoto. “Due to the re-opening of the Kamoshida investigation, some of the staff cannot accompany the students to the field trip, so we’re asking some of the third years to take their place. Since you’re a model student, would you mind…?”

Makoto was a little bit stunned. “Oh, uh, sure. I can fill in.”

“Great!’ Kawakami said. “You’ll be a big help.” She sighed. “Why is this coming back now?!”

“Are…you feeling alright?” Makoto asked.

“Huh?” Kawakami replied. “Oh, yeah. I’m just a little stressed is all.”

“Well… I know that sometimes when I feel stressed, I like talking things through with Dr. Maruki,” Makoto offered. “I’m sure he’d help you, even though he was hired to help the students.”

“Dr…. Maruki…” Kawakami responded. She thought of their interaction yesterday and started blushing lightly. “Ahem, yes,” Kawakami said to calm herself down. “I’ll… I’ll take that into consideration.” Makoto was a little confused. “Anyway, just make sure you’re prepared.”

“Oh, right,” Makoto said, refocusing on the situation at hand. “I will.”

“Thank you,” Kawakami said. The two went their separate ways.

After school, Makoto messaged the group.

Makoto: So, because of the Kamoshida investigation starting up again, some of the teachers are preoccupied.

Makoto: As such, they’ve invited me and other third years to chaperone the field trip.

Ryuji: Wait, you’re coming with us too?!

Makoto: Yeah.

Ryuji: Sweet!

Makoto: I'm there to chaperone.

Ann: You can have fun while doing it!

Makoto: I…guess…

Lena: I’m sure the trip will be more fun with you there.

Makoto: Thanks Lena.

Futaba: Hold on. They’re reopening the Kamoshida investigation?

Ren: Yeah?

Futaba: Are they going to find anything about us?

Futaba: I mean, it was you that made him confess.

Ren: True.

Ann: I don’t think we have anything to worry about.

Ann: They said they were only investigating the staff.

Yusuke: I don’t think they’d tell you they’re looking into the Phantom Thieves as well.

Makoto: I’m keeping tabs on the investigation.

Makoto: As student council president, the teachers trust me with some information.

Futaba: Damn Makoto! Girl’s got connections!

Makoto: Yes, well, it’s all to benefit society.

Futaba: Speaking of, did you manage to snag the data?

Makoto: She didn’t bring home her laptop last night.

Futaba: I see…

Sumire: Well, I’m sure you can do it!

Makoto: Thanks Sumire.

Ryuji: Oh yeah. Speaking of doing stuff for the Phantom Thieves, did you see that Mishima added a new feature to the Phansite?

An: Oh yeah.

Futaba: You know the person who runs the Phansite?

Ann: Yeah, he’s in our class.

Lena: How interesting.

Yusuke: It appears he added a feature where you can vote on who you want to target next.

Ren: Yeah, he told me about that.

Makoto: That feels more like a distraction more than anything.

Ren: Yeah, but it’s his website.

Ryuji: We’ve gotten a lot of good info from him as well.

Makoto: Well, maybe you could ask him to tone it down a bit.

Ren: I’ll do it tonight.

Jose: Sorry. I was a little preoccupied myself.

Jose: You’re leaving too Makoto?

Makoto: Yeah.

Ren: Don’t worry Jose! We’ll bring you a souvenir!

Jose: Thanks.

Ren: Oh yeah, I have some good news.

Sumire: Oh?

Ren: Eris told me that she won’t make anyone a crusader until after we get back.

Futaba: As much as I’d like to believe that, are you sure we should be trusting this magical chaos lady that drove me to the brink of insanity?

Ren: It’s her wanting to drive us all insane that she’s doing this.

Futaba: Well, she’s already doing a good job.

Lena: If I’m getting this right, Eris wants us involved more than anything.

Futaba: I see…

Sumire: I’m sure we’ll be fine.

Makoto: Right.

Makoto: Anyway, just continue acting normal for now.

Makoto: I should be able to get the data soon, and once Futaba cracks it, we’ll be that much closer to the truth!

Ren: Well said.

Makoto: Thanks.

“Who are you talking to?” Eiko asked Makoto.

“Gah!” Makoto reacted. “Oh, sorry Eiko. You surprised me.”

Eiko chuckled. “It’s OK.”

“I was just messaging some friends,” Makoto said.

“I see,” Eiko said. “Well, I just stopped by to ask you: Do you know if Kitagawa-san has the same days for his field trip as our school does?”

“Um, I believe so, yes,” Makoto said.

“Yay!” Eiko said.

“Why do you ask?” Makoto wondered.

“Well, it just so happens that Tsukasa has a work trip that week,” Eiko said.

“Hosts have work trips?” Makoto wondered.

Eiko brushed that aside. “So, I was thinking we can make it a girl’s week! Just the two of us! We can hang out all day after school!”

“Oh…” Makoto said, going pale.

The wind slowly drifted out of Eiko’s sails. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, as much as I would like that,” Makoto began explaining, “due to the investigation, some of the teachers had to stay behind, and they’ve asked me and some other third years to take their place.”

“Oh,” Eiko said, wind completely gone.

“It’s alright,” Makoto said. “You didn’t know.”

“Yeah…” Eiko said.

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask you,” Makoto said.

“I’m not,” Eiko said. “I’m not exactly a model student. Although some of the teachers have said I’ve stopped being such deadweight ever since we became friends.”

“That’s…good…” Makoto said. “If a little rude.”

“Eh, they’re right,” Eiko siad. “I’m not great when it comes to school. But luckily, I have Tsukasa to lean on.”

“Right…” Makoto said.

“Oh, and I have you too,” Eiko said. “Don’t think I forgot about you.”

“Right…” Makoto said.

“Still, you are pretty lucky,” Eiko said. “You get to go to Hawaii.”

“Well, we went to London last year,” Makoto reminded her. “That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eiko said. “But like, Hawaii is like THE paradise vacation spot, you know?”

“Right…” Makoto replied.

“I wonder if Tsukasa could take me there some day?” Eiko mused.

“Well…” Makoto said, a little flustered. “Maybe I could convince some of the teachers to bring you on board as a chaperone. If you want to go that bad.”

Eiko was a little surprised. She smiled. “Nah, it’s fine. I have a feeling they’d just say no anyway. But thanks for offering.”

“Yeah…” Makoto said, dejected.

“Hey, cheer up,” Eiko said. “I’m sure we can find another time to do this girl’s week.”

“Um, yeah,” Makoto said. “Ummmm…”

Eiko got a text. She checked her phone. “Oh, sorry. That’s Tsukasa. He wants to hang out tonight. I have to go.”

“Um, right,” Makoto said. “Take care!”

“You too,” Eiko replied. She left.

Makoto flopped onto her desk. “Mmmmmmmmm.”

Meanwhile, Ren got a message from Jose.

Jose: Um, could you come to Kosei?

Ren: Sure!

Ren: But why?

Jose: I’m a bit worried.

Jose: I haven’t seen Cho since coming back to school.

Ren: Do you and her usually run in the same circles?

Jose: Well, no.

Jose: But it seems like no one has seen her.

Ren: That is worrying.

Ren: I’ll be over as soon as I can.

Jose: Thanks.

Ren put her phone away, and headed to Kosei.

She met Jose out front. “Hey,” Ren greeted.

“Hi,” Jose replied, lacking enthusiasm.

Rne took notice of this. “Hey, it’ll be alright.”

“THERE YOU ARE!” The two of them looked to see Tama angrily looking at them. “And you brought your little friend too.”

“I’m the one that goes here!” Jose pointed out.

Ren let out a brief laugh before containing herself. “Jose, not now.” She cleared her throat. “What do you want?”

Tama looked around. He whispered. “What I WANT is for my girlfriend not to be under house arrest!”

“House arrest?” Ren replied, concerned.

“You just had to fill her head with that nonsense about telling people,” Tama continued.

“You heard what she said,” Jose countered. “As much as I nudged her, she wanted to do it in the end.”

“Grrr,” Tama hissed.

“What happened?” Ren asked calmly.

Tama hesitated for a moment. “We were telling her parents. She volunteered to do it first. Her mother was surprised, but she took to it well enough. Her father, the true-blooded Hirai, was angry. He…” Tama choked a little. “He dragged Cho to her room and told me to stay away. I haven’t heard anything since.”

Ren was in shock. “You don’t think…”

Tama shook his head. “He may be prideful, but he’s not a killer of any kind. My best guess is that he’s going to take Cho out of Kosei. Although where he’ll put her is anyone’s guess.”

“Hold on,” Jose said. “Your families are fighting over the top position at this school, but he’s willing to take her out of it.”

“She has a younger brother,” Tama said. “I imagine he’ll be his new pride and joy.”

“I see…” Jose said.

“How long does that process take?” Ren wondered.

“I’m not sure…” Tama said. “But it shouldn’t be instant, considering everything.” He became alarmed. “If you guys are thinking of helping, forget it! You already messed things up once. I don’t want you doing it again!”

“Fine!’ Jose said, forcefully. “If you don’t trust us, what about the Phantom Thieves?” Ren was shocked.

Tama was not. “Tch. You think I didn’t think of that already. I put his name up on that site almost immediately after I was forced to leave. They still haven’t done anything, but they’re head and shoulders above you!”

“Mmm,” Jose groaned.

“Heh. I don’t have time for this any more,” Tama said. “I need to think of a way to fix this myself.” He stormed off.

Ren glared at him as he left. “Hey Ren?” Jose asked. “Why was he so rude?”

Ren knew Jose was taking Tama’s outbursts more than she was. “He’s just angry.”

“Did we mess up?” Jose said. “Like he said?”

“Well…that’s hard to say,” Ren answered. “We did what we thought was right, but it turned out like this.”

“Mmmm,” Jose moaned. “Should we not have done anything?”

“Well, that’s something only you can answer,” Ren replied. “Personally, I think not doing something would have made the situation worse in the long run. But that’s just me.”

“Hmmm,” Jose pondered. “I think everything I did was right, but…”

“Sometimes life’s like that,” Ren said.

“Well then, life kind of sucks,” Jose said.

Ren chuckled. “Tell me about it.” Jose looked at her, confused. “I mean, look at me. I tried to make sure a woman wasn’t forced into a car, and I got arrested for it. But then I met all of you. You can’t always make sure the right thing happens, but you can grasp onto the silver linings.”

“I guess…” Jose said. “But what happens if there aren’t any?”

“Well…I don’t know…” Ren said. “I try to believe there are, but it can be hard to think of them.”

“This is confusing,” Jose said.

“Yeah…” Ren agreed. “I don’t even think someone who has 100 years of wisdom could answer that question.”

Jose was surprised. “Really?” Ren nodded. “Hmmm. How am I supposed to complete my mission if a human can’t even answer that question?”

“Well, maybe the answer is that you aren’t human,” Ren said. “Maybe as someone on the outside looking in, you can see something humans can’t.”

“I see,” Jose said. “Perhaps.” He re-energized himself. “I might have to think about this later. For now, let’s deal with the matter at hand. Tama said he posted Cho’s father’s name on the Phansite, right?”

Ren nodded. They took out their phones. They soon found it. “Katashi Hirai,” Ren said.

Jose looked determined. “Alright then! Katashi Hirai? We’re coming for you! We’re going to prove our worth and show you what we’re made of!” Ren chuckled softly.

Aeon-Jose: Rank 7

“Well, now that we have a plan, do you think we’ll be alright?” Ren asked

“I think we’ll be better than alright,” Jose answered.

“That’s the spirit,” Ren said.

“I should get going,” Jose informed her. “I’ve got some stuff to work on for class.” Ren nodded. “Take care!” Jose nodded back and then headed into Kosei. Ren left soon after.

That night at the Niijima household, Makoto and Sae were present. Makoto seemed a little nervous. Still, she pressed on. “Um, sis?” Sae looked at her. “The school asked me to help chaperone the upcoming field trip, along with some other third year students. I told them I could.”

“Hm,” Sae replied. “Very well.”

“You’re OK with that?” Makoto said.

“Yeah,” Sae said. “It’ll look good for college. Besides, this way you won’t have to spend time worrying about me for a few days.”

“Sis…” Makoto said, unsure of how to respond.

“You have a good time on your trip,” Sae said. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, uh, Hawaii,” Makoto said, getting taken off-track of what her sister had said earlier.

“Hm,” Sae said. “You went to London last year for your trip, correct?”

“Um, yeah,” Makoto replied. “Um, where did you go?”

“Sydney,” Sae answered.

“And how was that?” Makoto said.

“It was good,” Sae said. She finished. “I should get to bed. I’m so tired I’m not thinking straight.”

“Oh…” Makoto said, being broken from the first fully pleasant conversation she and her sister were having for a while. I guess she does think of me as a nuisance.

“Good night,” Sae said. She headed to her room.

“Oh! Good night!” Makoto meekly called out. “Mmmmm,” she groaned.

Meanwhile, at the Okumura household, Haru was a bit nervous. “Something on your mind dear?” her father asked.

“Oh, um, well…” Haru replied. “It’s just that the teachers asked me if I could help chaperone the upcoming field trip. They seem to be short-staffed. I told them I could, but…”

Haru’s dad observed her. “Well, I don’t see why not.”

Haru was shocked. “Really?” Haru’s dad nodded. Haru hugged him. “Thank you father!”

Haru’s dad hugged her back. “Of course. After all, this will boost the prestige of the Okumura name. Plus, it’ll make you look good.”

Haru came crashing back down to reality. “Right…”

They broke the hug. “So, where are you going?”

“...Hawaii…”

“Hawaii, eh?” Haru’s dad said. “That reminds me…” Haru looked at him eagerly, “I think we just opened a restaurant over there. Perhaps maybe you could check in on it.”

Haru came crashing down again. “Right. Of course.”

“Thank you dearie,” Haru’s dad said. His phone rang. “I have to take this. If you’ll excuse me.” He picked up his phone and walked off.

Haru looked at her father. “What happened to you?” she wondered. She left for her room.

That evening, Ren messaged Mishima.

Ren: Hey, can we talk?

Mishima: Sure.

Mishima: Wanna meet at the diner again?

Ren: Sure.

Mishima: Alright, seeya soon!

Ren headed to the diner.

A few minutes later, she and Mishima were situated in a booth. Mishima had a grin on his face. “I think I know why you called me here?”

“Oh?”

Mishima nodded. “You want to talk about the site’s new feature, right?”

“Um, yeah…” Ren said.

“Isn’t it great?” mishima said. “It’s getting a lot of traction. I know you had your trepidations, but I think it’s going smoothly.”

“Yeah…” Ren said. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your enthusiasm, but maybe just tone things down in the future.”

“Huh?” Mishima responded.

“Well, it’s just, we’re trying to figure out what to do next,” Ren explained, “and this might be a bit of a distraction.”

“Heh,” Mishima laughed. “What are you talking about? You have your next big score already!” Ren was confused. “That actor!”

“Oh…” Ren replied, realizing that’s what he meant. “Um, so we did some research, and…it doesn’t seem like the case you’re making to change his heart holds any water.”

“What?!” Mishima said. “Nah, you must be joking. There HAS to be something there! Don’t you get it? This is a chance for us to stick it to the people who think they’re so good. Who look down on us. Who shove their ideal reality onto people who can never attain it!”

“Mishima…”

“Hey!’ a voice shouted. Ren and Mishima looked over to see Akiyama and his friends. “If it isn’t Mishima. I haven’t seen you since middle school.”

“Uh, we talked like a few days ago,” Mishima pointed out.

“Oh yeah,” Akiyama said. “I guess you’re so forgettable that I forgot.” He and his friends started laughing.

Mishima slammed his fist. “Stop it!” he barked.

“Or what?” Akiyama challenged.

“Or I’ll…” Mishima controlled himself. “Mmmm.”

“Psh, you don’t have anything,” Akiyama said. “You’ve never had anything, and will never have anything. Let’s go.” Akiyama and his crew left.

Mishima was trembling. “Mishima?” Ren inquired. “You OK?”

“Heh,” Mishima smirked. “I’m better than OK. Because now you have a new target.” Ren was concerned. “Let’s change Akiyama’s heart. THAT’LL show him that we aren’t nothing. That we are the force that’s going to change Japan.”

“Um, as much as I hate pointing this out,” Ren said, “he’s really only picking on you…not us.”

“Yeah, but we’re in the same boat,” Mishima said. “The world looks down on us. But soon, we will make them look up.” He started laughing a little.

“Um, are you OK?” Ren asked.

Mishima snapped out of it. He shook himself. “Sorry. I’m just a little frustrated. He frowned. “Say…are you going to steal my heart?” Ren was surprised with the question. “I’m probably doing a bad job at being the public face of the Phantom Thieves. I wouldn’t be surprised.” Ren looked at him concerned. “Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. Later.” Mishima got up and left.

Ren was concerned about Mishima. He was acting weird. Well, a little weirder than usual. She knew what she had to do.

Later that night, Ren arrived in Mementos with her and Morgana. “Are you sure you don’t want to bring the others?” Morgana asked.

“I’m just scouting right now,” Ren answered. “It says he’s down here, but…”

Morgana sighed. “I get it. Let’s see if we can’t find him.” He transformed into his car form, and they started off. They didn’t have to go very far, as as soon as they went down a level, Mishima’s shadow was right there. “That was easy.” Ren got out of the car, and Morgana turned back into a cat.

Shadow Mishima looked at the two of them. “Heh. I’ve been expecting you.” He looked at the two of them. “Where are the others? I know there’s more than just you two.”

“We came here alone,” Ren said.

“Tch, no skin off my back,” Mishima said. “I really only wanted to talk to you anyway.” He glared at Morgana.

Ren looked at him as well. “Hm. Fine,” Morgana said. “I’ll back off.” She started to walk off. “But if you do anything, I won’t hesitate to jump in!” He continued walking away.

Ren inched closer to Mishima. “Eh heh heh heh,” he laughed. “So, you’re not opposed to stealing my heart.”

“I just came down here to scout you out,” Ren said.

“But you would do it if all your little friends were here, huh,” Mishima said.

“Maybe,” Ren replied.

He grew angry. “You just don’t get it,” he said. “Before you came along, I was fine! I knew my place. I was nothing! And then you gave me something. Something that I could be proud of. Something that could make me more than nothing. Why wouldn’t I go too far?”

“I’m not here alone because I don’t get it,” Ren retorted. “I’m here alone because I do. I was nothing once too. Hell, I was less than nothing.”

“Heh,” Mishima laughed. “If you get it, then you must know how pathetic I really am. I can’t do anything right. Volleyball. School. Running the Phansite. Life.”

“You’re not a failure,” Ren said. “You’re just a little extreme in your reactions.”

Mishima smirked. “Well then. If you think I’m going too far, then I’m right here!” He stretched his arms out to his side. “Go ahead! Steal my heart!”

Ren looked him over. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Mishima reacted.

Ren turned her back on him. “If you want it so badly, then steal it yourself.” She started walking off.

Mishima went into desperation. “WHAT?! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! WITHOUT YOU, I’M… I’m…” He collapsed to the floor. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Ren met back up with Morgana. “Are you sure that was the right move?” Morgana asked.

“Maybe,” Ren answered. “Besides, we didn’t come down here to steal his heart tonight.”

“Right,” Morgana agreed. “Although I can’t say I don’t get what he’s going through.”

“Me either,” Ren admitted. “But we have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to see it?” Morgana asked.

“I think so,” Ren replied. “After all, he’s the one who asked to get his heart stolen. I doubt he’d do that if he couldn’t .”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Morgana said. “I hope he can figure it out soon though.”

Ren nodded. “Me too. Now let’s go home.” The two of them left Mementos, and went home for the night.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month ago

Note

This wasn’t supposed to take me that long to reply to but I got mobbed by irl shit but um anyways

No because that’s what I’m saying idk why there’s a need to give everyone a backstory and make everyone relevant instead of focusing on better developing a certain set of people like realistically unless they’re really going to expand on the whole bllkverse post-Isagi protag storyline which is highly unlikely….

LMAOOOOO speaking of my comment from earlier too lowk I bet Kunigami could pop out something sassy every now and then!! Gives you an excuse to keep the non-ginger male lead streak going LOL

But FRRRRR the fact that they all acknowledge he’d treat a girl right so real and literally I’m ngl I laughed off the ln as a goofy moment like lmaooo ok no social skills bros stalking but WHAT WAS THAT PROFILE??? Literally jaw on the floor speechless I’m going to pretend I didn’t read that

Otoya would be so happy that eightbit is hyping him up sm I need more scenes of that for Karasu too I’m lowk a little sad the pose of him standing on (?) the ball just didn’t have the same vibe as the manga (don’t get me wrong still not bad but ykwim)

LMAOOO shippers will fr take whatever crumb of interaction (or even lack thereof) they can get im crying though I still can’t get over how a sukuna ship found its way to bllk

Wait I’m also still not over that how did not a single soul request nagi???? Ngl maybe I should’ve sent one in I was under the assumption that he would’ve been a no brained though so uh. But LMAOO it’s funny reading this in hindsight so I guess you’ve settled on an otoya req it seems it’s back to otoyalations everyone

BAROU???????? HIDDEN BAROU CAMEO lmao I’m crying you really said “yeah no romance for Kunigami”

OH HEAH I SAW THAT you’d be glad to know that when I saw that my first thought was hollyhock before anything else LMAOOOOO Omg but Rin being hollyhock y/n’s number one fan I can see it thatd be so funny

LMAO the next sae one you have to make should be that really…um..interestingly proportioned one…from like the first few chapters of the manga (I’m pretty certain I passed by a goofy post of yours with it somewhat recently)

Karasu flying across the field to jump on his teammates back and hype up the goals LMAOOO truly THE biggest bird on the field (I’m thinking of a very specific tiktok audio that I haven’t heard in awhile so if you know which one I’d be pretty impressed)

So real I’m also planning to watch it all in one go maybe even along with s1?? Actually maybe this calls for episode nagi then s1 then s2 bllk marathon LOL but wait you’re right I didn’t pay attention before but Rin and otoya lowk giving emo twins?? If we didn’t know otoyas personality he’d look so emo LMFAO

- Karasu anon

AHAHAA IT’S OKAY i randomly fell asleep instead of responding to this it happens i’m kinda bad abt punctual replies too sometimes so trust i will never judge 🔥

OKAY BUT LISTEN if kaneshiro wants to give us episode karasu i won’t mind /j on the fr side yeah i think ensemble casts are difficult to work with as is and the more you expand the worse that gets!! i mean people are still hoping for KIRA to come back and bro was in ONE EP 😭 so there’s rlly no need for so many characters to be given “depth” (depth which ironically makes them feel shallower at times) it’s okay for some to just be filler with surface level lore

HELP OKAY SOMEBODY COMMENTED SENDOU ON THAT POST AND IT OPENED MY THIRD EYE??? idgaf abt sendou so i didn’t even think about him but he’s literally PERFECT for the role omg like he’s so boyfailure boyfriend-in-law with silly slightly sassy advice (secondhand aikulations perhaps??) PLUS because he’s friends w aiku he def would have relevant opinions on otoya DHFSJAJ not that that’s a prerequisite because his role is rlly small like i said but it gives in verse depth to it

NO LITERALLY at first i was like oh haha cute he just wants to be friends with karasu but he doesn’t know how…now i’m like NAH GET KARASU IN WITNESS PROTECTION ASAP 😭🙏🏻 /j anyways yeah everyone acknowledging that karasu would treat a lady right YUP love to see it he absolutely would and we love him for that (i miss my handsome glorious king why’d i have to get inspired for otoya before him 😒)

YEAHH i feel like they took a bit of karasu’s smugness away almost?? he’s still cocky and analytical and talented and stuff but i feel like he’s not giving that same smug villainy vibe that he had in the manga LMAOAOA it made isagi’s infamous line not hit as much because now it just looks like he’s crashing out due to karasu being better than him and calling him out on being weak meanwhile in the manga you can def tell that karasu actively looks DOWN on isagi yk so the “he’s…a villain 😨” line makes a bit more sense there

NO LITERALLY I THOUGHT NAGI WAS A SURE SHOT I CANNOT BELIEVE NO ONE REQUESTED FOR HIM 😭 forever in shock that the wider public associates me with SAE over NAGI 😱 and yeah i used that ugly ass panel for my hbd sae post (felt obligated since i’m an honorary sae blog) DJSIHDJS HE LOOKS SO WEIRD IN IT i never ever want to see a sae fan complaining abt the anime they yassified him SO MUCH in season 1 all of them have to be on their knees thanking 8bit 🙂‍↕️ and actually nope HAHA i don’t even have any otoya reqs in my inbox surprisingly i was just inspired on my own…let’s just saw we can call this one based on true events 🙏🏻 once i post and we debrief i’ll lyk what parts have and have not actually happened to me FKFHSJAN anyways yeah this is more of a karasu bfb “i have an idea and a character and i’m just going to see where it goes” vibe than it is a specific prompt or anything!! just writing smth silly for me…it’s what i deserve after that kaiser req 😰 HOPEFULLY IT DOESN’T TAKE AS LONG/END UP AS LONG AS KARASU BFB THOUGH i feel like i’m jinxing myself now so just keep your fingers crossed for me and my sanity 🤞🏻

HIDDEN BAROU CAMEO and the boy that died at reader’s uncle’s hand was also loosely based off of niko!! we fr got the entire oaeu up in this bitch ig this is what they do when aiku’s not home 😭 NO ROMANCE FOR THE LEPRECHAUN ONG 🔥

HOLLYHOCK MENTION LFG yeah omg rin would actually def stan her and she would probably love him for that…omg isekai rin x hollyhock reader when?? imagine he’s hit by a soccer ball to the head (probs by shidou) instead of a bus and he ends up in yukimiya’s body on the day yuki sends otoya after the hiiragi’s so he ends up changing the timeline around so he can fall in love w reader instead of the “lukewarm ninja bastard” bonus points if she ends up with karasu due to his meddling instead because gardener swordsman karasu 😫 /hj

THAT ONE AUDIO THAT’S LIKE “i’m the biggest bird i’m the biggest bird” RIGHT?? LMAOAO I HAVE BEENNN CHRONICALLY ON TIK TOK FOR YEARS NOW OFC IKWYM!! speaking of which i have more to show you 😜 but anyways yeah it’s hilarious how he just ends up there and nobody even questions it…ig he’s rlly competitive and stuff so it makes sense that he’d consistently be getting the most hype plus he’s one of the characters that seems to get along w everyone at the same level??? like barou didn’t seem to be mad abt him doing the arm-around-the-neck thing (tbf he only rlly cared abt getting nagi off atp), isagi seems to find him chill, he was getting along with reo/aryu/tokimitsu (as well as yuki and otoya ofc) during their “economics of bllk” meeting, and he somehow even managed to be friends with NAGI when they were all in the arcade which given how standoffish nagi can be is saying smth ☝🏻 truly he is so beloved by the fandom and the characters alike

YUP MY PLAN EXACTLY i’ll probably do epinagi -> s1 (since epinagi glosses over a lot of second selection which is the best part of s1) -> s2 rewatch…yeah otoya gives emo just as much as rin they lowkey have the same hair just diff colors HAHAHA omg wait i saw a tik tok MONTHS ago talking about how niko watches anime and wondering if he freaked out when he saw nagi because he knows that white haired characters are always insanely talented and to extrapolate on that i wonder if he felt the same at seeing otoya 😭 even though otoya doesn’t rlly give white hair energy tbh i forget most of his hair is pale because i so heavily associate him with the Green ™️

OKOK MORE TIK TOKS again you’ve probably seen a lot of them but OH WELL you will see them again 🔥:

KARASU MEME had me crying it’s too real…fr giving “shidou…isagi…stop 🥺🥺🥺 this isn’t you 🥺🥺🥺“

kaiser slander so truly refreshing to see on the fyp even if it is isagi committing it…enemy of my enemy is my friend ig

okay this edit is making me consider aikuism fr JSBXSJBS why’s he kinda…like that one panel of him catching the ball w his chest…NOPE anyways we MUST STAY STRONG 😭🙏🏻 dw he’s still in the problematic bestie zone for me but now he’s like a problematic bestie that i have weird tension with and everyone’s lowkey like yo is smth going on and we’re both like nahhh that’s my homeboy!! but like. ARE we just homeboys???

THE WAY KARASU SAYS ISAGI’S NAME DJFHSHSJS ISAGI MOVEEEE IT’S MY TURN

LORENZO MEME idk why this is just making me laugh this is def smth he would do in the oaeu though specially at aiku (and niko who literally did nothing but got involved by accident)

#answered asks

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