#throws you out of the story as easily as any bad fourth wall break

[knuffled]

not so bad - chapter 6

enjoy my darlings. pls reblog to win my undying affection

ao3 link

It was pure happenstance that Annabeth stumbled across the incident in the boy’s bathroom. Well, happenstance and a full bladder. Mid-way through her fourth period class, European History, taught by the dullest teacher in the entire school, she excused herself to run down to the bathroom. The boy’s bathroom was directly adjacent to the girls’s. That had never mattered much, but on that particular day, it meant that she inadvertently found herself caught in a disturbing incident.

At first, she sensed nothing awry: just the sound of laughter. But it was a familiar whimper of distress that gave her pause before she entered the girl’s bathroom. Annabeth knew that sound from just about anywhere. It belonged to her oldest friend, Grover Underwood.

“Come on, Underwood. Stop being such a pussy,” a voice sneered.

Another voice added, “Yeah, we just want twenty bucks a piece. That’s not so hard now, is it?”

“I- I told you. I don’t have anymore on me. I told you that I don’t get paid until Friday. I-If you could just wait-”

“You talking back to us, Underwood? Do we have to do this the hard way again?”

At the sound of Grover’s whimper again, blood boiled in Annabeth’s veins and she balled her hands into fists. One thing about Annabeth was that you did not fuck with her friends. She got ready to burst into the boy’s bathroom, propriety be damned, fully ready to fuck shit up, until another familiar voice interjected.

“Wow, three guys bullying a dude on crutches for money? Yikes. Talk about pathetic.”

“What was that, Jackson?”

“Getting sacked so much as the school quarterback really turned your brain into mush, huh Sloan? Want me to speak slower so you can understand?”

Annabeth hid a grin at the indignant sputtering from the other speaker. Sloan was a name she unfortunately recognized. Matt Sloan was easily the biggest douchebag in their school. She’d had more than one unfortunate run in with him in the past. It had ended with her breaking his nose, but he would never admit that.

“Fuck you, Jackson,” Matt sneered.

There was a scuffle of feet, which was enough of a cue for Annabeth to burst into the bathroom. Matt and his two cronies rushed towards Percy with their fists raised. Percy neatly side-stepped the first punch and hooked his foot behind his assailants calf and lifted, throwing him off balance. With one hand, Percy pushed him face-first into a urinal, while using his other hand to catch the next attacker’s wrist. He pulled him by the wrist, making him fall forward into the wall with a groan.

Matt was last, but he’d stolen one of Grover’s crutches to use as a weapon. A flicker of worry flashed in Percy’s eyes, but Annabeth dashed in quickly and kicked Matt in the back of his knee, sending him crashing to the floor with a scream of pain. Matt looked up at her from the floor, livid.

“Chase, you fucking bitch. You almost broke my leg!”

Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. “Whoops. I’ll try harder next time then.”

Percy’s lips quirked upwards in a smile before he went to go help Grover up. Annabeth kept her attention focused on Matt and dropped to a crouch.

Annabeth glared at him and dropped her voice to a deadly whisper. “If you ever pull this shit again, on anyone, I’ll be sure to let everyone at school know I manhandled you in a fight. I’m sure it’ll be a real embarrassment to find out the school quarterback got his ass beat by a girl.”

“As if anyone would believe that,” Matt sneered.

“They sure will,” Percy chimed in. “After all, me and Grover here are two eyewitnesses. And in case Dumb and Dumber here get any ideas, maybe the two of us saw her kick all your asses. Now that would be a real funny story, wouldn’t it?”

The other two stiffened at that and gave terse nods of acknowledgement.

“And another thing,” Percy continued. “I want you three to hand Chase all the money you’ve stolen by the end of the week, or I’ll actually be serious about hurting you next time I see you. Got it?”

Matt stood up gingerly and flipped him off, but Annabeth could tell that they were rattled by Percy’s threat. She waited for the three of them to stagger out of the bathroom before she rushed to Grover’s side.

“God, Grover, why didn’t you tell me this was happening?” Annabeth whispered furiously.

Grover hung his head in shame. “I- I don’t know, Annie. I guess I thought I could just- deal with it.”

“Hey, promise me that you’ll come to me if something like this happens in the future,” Annabeth said.

Grover looked hesitant, which only served to bewilder her more. She opened her mouth to say something more, but Percy stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Annabeth looked up at him and he gave her a subtle headshake no. She bit her lip in frustration and watched him escort Grover out of the bathroom before he turned back to her.

“Why did you stop me?” Annabeth burst out. “I could’ve helped him!”

“I know,” Percy said simply. “But you have to think about it from his perspective.”

“What’s there to think about? Unless you mean he enjoys getting bullied by those shitstains-”

“You’re infantilizing him, Chase,” Percy interjected.

Annabeth stopped mid-sentence like he’d hit her with a shovel.

“He’s got it rough as it is with his disability and all. People try to take care of him all the time and he has to let them. Getting bullied is hard, yeah, but at least he was dealing with it on his own. But you demanding he ask for help just reinforces that he can’t solve problems on his own, that he needs someone to take care of him,” Percy said.

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help,” Annabeth muttered.

Percy held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I agree, but I don’t think he sees it that way.”

“So you’re saying I should just sit there and watch?” Annabeth demanded.

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just trying to explain how he might feel,” Percy said softly.

Annabeth pursed her lips at that and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to admit it, but Percy was kind of right.

“Fine,” Annabeth grumbled. “But if I see someone bullying a friend, I’m still going to raise hell about it.”

Percy smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

The fond admiration in his voice thawed the ice in her blood. “Thanks for stepping in. I really appreciate it.”

Percy put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Nah, it’s no problem. I don’t like bullies.”

“Still, taking three guys on at once is pretty ballsy,” Annabeth admitted.

“Pretty sure it was three on two. You helped, remember?” Percy said, grinning.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, with my heroic sneak attack.”

“Well, I thought we made a good team,” Percy said.

A smile threatened to break across her face. “We kind of did, didn’t we?”

When Percy returned her smile, it sent another infuriating flurry of butterflies loose in her stomach. God, it just wasn’t fair. The boy’s smile could make flower’s grow.

“We should probably get out of here. Would be kind of weird for someone to walk in and see you in the boy’s bathroom,” Percy said.

Annabeth felt her face heat up. “Oh, um, right. Let’s do that.”

When they stepped outside, Percy gave her a hesitant look and said, “Would you mind not telling anyone about this? I already kind of have a bad rep at school. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Annabeth said.

“Great, thanks!” Percy beamed. “I’ve gotta run down to pre-calc before I get written up by Mrs. Dodd’s again for like the fifth time this year. I swear she has it out for me.”

“Yeah, see you later, Perce.”

“I hope so, Annie,” Percy said, a cheeky smile on his face.

Annabeth tried her best to look stern. “Hey, not cool. Only Grover gets to call me that.”

Percy made a show of looking apologetic. “Darn, just when I thought I finally found a cool nickname for you.”

“How about just calling me Annabeth instead of Chase all the time?”

“Alright, let me try again then,” Percy said before clearing his throat. “I hope so, Annabeth.”

Annabeth mimed applause and bit back a smile. “Well done, you dork. Now get to class.”

Percy saluted her and Annabeth watched him head towards the Math department before she turned around and went back to history. At least now, she’d have something to tide her over in her imagination for the rest of class.

[sneakyboymerlin]

The way that season 5 butchered everyone else’s characterization in order to make Arthur look better by comparison so that they wouldn’t have to put in the work of developing his character into an actually better person… at the expense of everyone and everything else in the show… nothing but hate for season 5 in my house

[heniareth]

YOU SAW IT YOU SAW IT GOOD YES I AM READY WITH THE QUESTIONS I ALREADY HAD IN MY HEAD For Astala (my beloved): 🍾: Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event? 🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure? 🎂: Has your OC have any contradictory interests or traits to the first preception people have of the? How do they surprise people? And for Ilanlas (new beloved??? OoO): 🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic? 🍻: What's your OC's favourite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

Hi hello :D I’m so happy to finally get this to you, especially because Ilanlas has a rough time when he’s introduced and thus comes across as... not his best self. So I’m very happy to talk some more about him. Under the cut bc it’s long!

For 🌊Astala🌊:

🍾: Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event?

(This is a veeeeeeery long one)

Astala would say she doesn't believe in luck. It's not luck that grants her good things, but community, effort, being clever, knowing when to throw a punch, when to negotiate and when to run away

But she's also reminded time and time again that there are things that are bigger than any effort she or her friends can conjure up

If the Maker weren't an absent god she'd chalk those bigger things up to him. As it is, he's not doing anything until everybody sings the Chant of Light, so it can't be him

And Astala doesn't like the idea of fate. Fate's not a nice concept when you're working very hard and often not getting anywhere, and it sounds very much like humans who see elves as born to be servants. Which is a belief that infuriates her to no end

She concludes that many of the things that are bigger than whatever she believes in probably come from the world at large. Thousands of people and circumstances and coincidences working together to weave that which is happening

But sometimes something happens that she can't explain as just the larger workings of the world or the doing of the people around her or herself. Like when Dilwyn and Gethon gave her all that money before her wedding right after she'd talked to her mother, and that money ended up being enough to help Nessa and spare some extra. There are just moments when everything fits together so neatly that Astala can only stare and wonder

(This can happen for good or for bad. In her eyes, it's a very ironic coincidence that she was recruited from basically the death row only for it to turn out that, ta-da! The Grey Warden who kills the archdemon dies. As if death wasn't going to let her go so easily. Again, the pieces fit together so neatly that it almost seems as if they were laid out and molded intentionally, but damn if she'd rather not have them fit together)

So when these kinds of things happen, Astala has the sneaking suspicion that there must be something that puts them in motion. Some kind of larger power. It's almost as if somebody's watching her as they prod and taunt her to see what she'll do (this is not intended as a fourth wall break, btw, Astala is not slowly developing consciousness that she is only a character in a story).

It all gets a little bit clearer when she's in the Fade during Broken Circle. It seems that spirits and demons have some influence on the material world from beyond the Veil. And maybe the spirits of the dead like the ones she encountered in the Brecilian forest can affect the world of the living as well? Maybe the old elvhen gods actually exist? And who or what even is Flemeth? Who knows? Certainly not she, although she does discuss the topic with Wynne, other mages, Ilanlas and Lanaya (Zathrian’s first). But suddenly there are a whole lot of very powerful players that could be moving the pieces to fit them together so neatly

She actually dips into that in Awakening when she takes on techniques from the Reaver discipline. And it’s specifically the Reaver subclass, not the Spirit Guardian, which could’ve been an option as well. The reason for that probably has to do with the fact that she’s in a lot of pain due to some lasting injuries she got out of the fight with the archdemons (the specifics are still to be decided, but it’ll probably have something to do with her lower back and legs), and the Berserker and Reaver subclass allow her to channel that pain into something useful

The idea that spirits and the dead still affect the living, material world fascinates her. She starts "talking" with her mother more often and has been known to mutter "screw you too, Howe" when the nobles loyal to Rendon Howe get too belligerent (poor Nathaniel gets confused a few times). It's not something she wholeheartedly believes in, but rather something that seems possible and plausible and does no harm to consider. Talking to her mother, regardless of whether the message actually gets across, is really nice and sometimes even helpful. It did help her to calm her nerves before that first wedding

Her personal brand of Andrastianism fits into this category too: Andraste was a powerful woman, and if she can actually sway the Maker to lend some aid, it’d be foolish not to pray to her. And if she’s not that powerful, well, Astala won’t have lost anything by trying

So to recap: she doesn't believe in luck, but rather that there are intelligent agents behind many of the major "coincidences" she experiences in her life, be they spirits, the dead, divinities, or others. The world is big and strange and she doesn't presume to have it all figured out

🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

Whatever her guilty pleasures are, they tend to involve spending more money than she feels comfortable spending AND/OR picking the more expensive over the cheaper option

She'll readily admit to spending leftover coin she could've saved on the spices needed for her mother's fish stew. While these spices are a luxury, they're more than worth the boost to morale they provide for everybody in the household. Astala guards them like a mother hen guards her chicks

If pressed, she might also tell of how she sometimes got herself a glass of the fancier spirits served the tavern she worked at. She particularly liked a rum that the tavern's owner swore was from Rivain. Later she'd try real Rivani rum and discover that the owner's words had been nothing more than a marketing trick. At the time, however, it was very nice and helped her through more than one rough day

Her real guilty pleasure, however, are dresses. After the Blight, when she can afford them, she's conflicted every time she gets her hand on one because one part of her is extremely excited and wants to try it on immediately and relish in how beautiful it is

The other part of her however is horrified that she would waste good money (and so much of it!) on something so frivolous. Think of how much food that amount of money could buy! Sure, she's good on food, but- It just feels like an utter waste. But at the same time, she needs to keep up appearances in the Landsmeet at the very least. Seeing how much Zevran enjoys it when she wears the dress helps a bit. And she makes up for the amount of money spent by wearing the dress often (she always has at least two newer ones fit for the Landsmeet, but the older ones get worn until they literally fall apart), so it's all good

🎂: Has your OC have any contradictory interests or traits to the first preception people have of the? How do they surprise people?

It really depends on who you are and where you meet her, tbh 😂😂 Astala very much adapts to her environment

If a human encountered her on the street, they’d get to know her as defensive, brusk and probably somewhat aloof. At her working place, be it the docks or the tavern, she’d be more approachable (because she needs the job and can’t have customers complaining), but keep things very strictly professional. They’d probably be surprised to learn about her temper, how much she enjoys goofing around, singing silly songs, etc.

If an elf encountered her outside of work, they’d see that more genuine side of her. They’d get to see her be silly, get angry, laugh, but not cry. They’d probably be surprised at the degree to which she withdraws and builds up walls around herself when in the presence of humans

(Which, I’m just now thinking of it... Rhodri would be met with those walls at first too. Now that’s just sad :l But Rhodri’s a very authentic one, so I think she’d win Astala over quickly)

But something that’d be a surprise to everybody is to see her cry. She avoids crying in front of other people whenever she can manage, and when she can’t she’ll keep most of the tears back. It’s no good to infect them with her distress. To really see her break down is a sight that very few see (I think you could count them on one hand)

For 🦊Ilanlas🦊:

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

The (affectionately) annoying brother friend. And he'd specifically like to believe he's an older sibling friend but he's really really not XD

Ilanlas is the type of friend with whom you can goof around, who'd help you steal something for the fun of it or just to prove you can, who'll immediately try to cover for you when it looks like you're in trouble

But who'll also try to rile you up, call you out in a very blunt way if he thinks you've done something wrong, give you the silent treatment if he's angry with you and generally prefer what seems fun over what is constructive. In his defense (and I say this over and over again but it's true!), he's 19

In a larger group, he'll most likely be the one watching the leader. He's not often the leader himself because he's a quiet one and considers himself to be bad with people. There has always been somebody more likable and charismatic than him

He is the problem solver, however. He has a keen mind for problems, which is also why he's watching the leader: he likes aiding them by making use of his problem-solving skills and he expects them to make use of them

(If he deems the leader incompetent he’ll be very unhappy)

And, last, he’s also the friend that sometimes needs to be invited back into the group. He craves to be with people but isolates when he’s not okay (especially if he’s been conflictive). Isolating helps him calm down and get his thoughts in order, but he has a hard time rejoining the group because he... doesn’t really know how to do it without feeling really awkward, so he kind of tends to linger at the fringes of the group in a will-he-won’t-he sort of way. He’s immensely grateful to whoever picks up on it and reintroduces him to the group

🍻: What's your OC's favourite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

His go-to way to calm down is some quiet time. As a kid, he was often sent into a corner for some self-contemplation when he got too rowdy. He’s kept that and turned into something helpful

He likes to just sit and observe and listen to everything that goes on around him: birds nesting and singing, ants collecting building material and food, a bumblebee tumbling from flower to flower, the occasional hare or fox that runs by, clouds rolling over the sky or waves lapping against the shore of a lake. He can sit like that for a very long time

He also likes whittling away on interesting pieces of wood he finds. Some he carves into people and animals, others become more abstract figures. He paints and varnishes them, then leaves them behind where he’s been sitting or where their camp was, as a silent sign that he’s come through this place and spent some time here

To wind down and finish the day he also likes to go over the day’s events with the Vir Tanadhal and the person of Elgar'nan in mind. The Vir Tanadhal is his guide and vengeance his quest. Assessing where he is with regards to both puts him at ease

The Vir Tanadhal for one is central to his identity as a Dalish hunter. As for considering his quest, he likes feeling like he’s making progress on something, or, if that’s not the case, if he feels like he’s taking steps back instead, having a plan gives him a sense of purpose and direction. It makes him feel more solid, if that makes sense

And he also joins the rest of the companions when they sit around the campfire and talk, but he’s more of a listener than a talker (except when the conversation evolves into a debate. He enjoys verbal sparring as much as the physical equivalent, if the opponents are worth their salt)

It’s thundering and raining right now, which has made for the most cozy atmosphere. Perfect for asks (and to blame for the fact that you get a huge essay in the form of bullet points) XD Thank you so much for this!!! (And for your patience) I had a lot of fun here

[ariadneamare]

a playlist for you | levihan

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ audience only, angst

a/n: so i'm not really good at writing nsfw so this is all i can do for now (?) let me know what u think! < about the story i mean and not the nsfw HAHAHA ok anyway here it is

Day 1 // Honne

"You'll always be my day one," she whispered at his sleeping form. The two met nine months ago at a party Hanji's friend held for the fourth of July. It took her hours to decide if she wanted to go. Between the thesis that had to be done and the tempting bottles of vodka on the picture Petra sent, she came to a conclusion. 

In that very moment, that very temptation lead her to a good outcome. A grumpy midget. 

They both decided to just be friends with benefits. For Hanji's part she did not know as to how it worked. Do they just fuck and fist bump after? 

The sex was insanely good, but the thing that came after? Feelings. Feelings were what came after. 

Everything hit different with Levi. Something about the way he dragged the tip of his cock along her opening as he whispered, "I love the way you scream my name," made her carve the features of his face on her mind. Something about that very gesture the first night they met stuck with her. 

"Day zero when I was no one," she continued. Taking her index finger, she traced his brows and moved to his lips. "I'm nothing by myself, you and no one else." 

Falling for someone was the last thing she intended to do on her last year of university. She had dreams and goals to achieve, Hanji could not afford to fuck up. But, maybe this mistake might not be so bad. Maybe, it would even be the one thing that'll make her happy. Make her whole. Make her warm. 

"What are you mumbling?" 

"Oh, Levi!" As soon as she heard the voice, Hanji withdrew her hand to her chest. She looked at him with wide eyes, her voice small as she added, "I was just talking to myself." 

"C'mere," Levi's voice is husky as he pulls her in. His hands tighten around her waist and he hardens, her boobs pressed up against his chest. "Go to sleep." 

Hanji closes her eyes and tries to focus on falling asleep instead of the voice in her head. Last time she checked, fuck buddies don't cuddle in bed. 

Everytime // Ariana Grande 

"For the last time, Hanji!" Nifa shouts frustratedly, picking up her clothes on the floor and stuffing them in a duffel bag. "He's not good for you. He fucked a quarter of the med students! Goes partying almost every night, and ends up sucking someone's face by the time the party disperses." 

One drunken night, Hanji spilled everything to Petra and Nifa. From how she's falling for him, to the idea that she's willing to do anything for Levi. Absurd really, but it was love. At least that's what she thinks. 

"What about it? And he doesn't fuck strangers anymore. He told me so, it's all me now." Hanji tries to argue, taking the bag from her friend and zipping it up. "People are capable of changing, if you're not aware." 

"No! Listen to me, for once! Please, listen to me." 

"You listen to me!" She pulls at her hair, dragging her palm down her face and settling them by her hips. "Just this, allow me to have this." 

"I want to, but I can't, okay?" Nifa approaches her, placing both hands on each shoulder. "I can't let you when I know what he is like." 

"I know what he's like, and it's nothing compared to how you picture him." 

Nifa looks down for a second before dragging her eyes to meet Hanji's, "I can't do anything to tell you otherwise?" 

"No, I'm sorry." Hanji breathes, cupping her left cheek. "I can handle myself, okay?" 

"Okay." 

Thirty minutes later, Hanji sat on her bed alone. Staring up at the ceiling before saying, "they keep telling me to let go but I don't really let go." She closes her eyes, looking back at their moments together. 

Until now, everything remained blurry. No label, no assurance, no confession. Just a bunch of afternoons spent fucking in her dorm or his car. 

Hanji knew she deserved so much better than casually fucking and making out. But something about him made her stay. It sounded like something every person says before getting cheated on, yet she still did not budge. 

"Why, oh why does god keep bringing me back to you?" She whispers, slapping her cheeks repeatedly. 

Last Night // Lucy Spraggan 

"Last night I told you I lo—" Hanji tries to explain and apologize but he cuts her off. Raising a hand and standing up from his position on the bed. 

They booked a hotel room last night after going out. The two drank more than what they could handle. It took Levi 24 shots and 16 for Hanji before they got wasted. And wasted they were. 

Their arms were intertwined to keep balance, noise erupted from each other's mouths. Giggles from Hanji's part and grunts from the man. One thing lead to the next, the two had crazy drunk sex. Even though she was drunk, a part of her was still aware. 

Aware of how everything he did became even more attractive. The way he unbuttoned his dress shirt made her insides twist and turn. 

Last night, she even got to see a side of him he rarely showed. Most times when they had sex, Levi took control. But everything was different last night. He squirmed under her and moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back as his legs started to shake. 

After three rounds, the two sat in bed side by side. They stared at the city from the window. Enjoying the peace and cold the night brought. Hanji enjoyed counting the cars that passed, while Levi stared at her. 

It was impulsive, but she did not regret it as much as she expected. The three words came out of her mouth smoothly, and if he did not listen closely then he would not notice how it seemed so rehearsed. 

"Hanji, I am not the person for you." 

It hurt, but it was true. He only spoke of the truth, yet Hanji hated him. Levi could have lied, he could have told her he loved her too. But he didn't. And she should be grateful, she should be. Anger bubbled up inside her, anger for both of the people in the room. 

At him for being so… so him. For being everything yet nothing at the same. 

At her for allowing this, for not keeping her walls up. For being a fool. 

Thinking of You // Katy Perry

Levi tried. At best, he tried. 

For months, he noticed the way Hanji looked at him. He did not mean to assume, it was just too noticeable because it was how his mom looked at him.

Like he was too precious for the world. Like he was special. Like he was loved. 

He knew any time she would say those words, but he did not think it would be so soon. Levi has not prepared himself for anything. He did not know what to say or do. He's never experienced anything so pure ever since his mom. Most people regarded him in ways he knew how to handle. 

Either in respect or simply lust. With respect, he just had to reciprocate it. And lust, give them a dick and it was all good. 

But love, it was like calculus for an elementary student. Too complex and, in some cases, too much. 

And because he did not want to think about Hanji or the way she said I love you with her wide eyes, he went out to party. 

There he met Erwin. A buff man in a crisp suit. Not too many words were uttered, but moans were echoing in the bathroom of the bar. The guy was handsome and built as hell, who was Levi to reject a blessing? 

As he was being rammed, his hands on the sink for balance and mouth agape in pleasure, a certain person kept popping up on his mind. Even though Erwin kept pushing in so hard from the back that Levi's hands kept slipping off the sink, he could not help but think if Hanji slept with another person too. With that thought, it riled him up. He pushed his ass backwards to meet with Erwin's aggressive thrusts and in five more the two came in sync, muttering curses underneath their breaths. 

As they fixed themselves up, Erwin passed him a business card before leaving. He did not even check the words written before throwing it in the bin. The condom he threw seconds ago sat beside it and he cringed at that. 

"When I'm with him, I am thinking of you." He stared at his own reflection and scowled. What did he get himself into. 

Do I Wanna Know // Arctic Monkeys 

"Hey," he breathed, voice deep and slurred. Two empty bottles of gin stood on his coffee table. 

"What are you doing?" Hanji tried her best not to let her walls break. She knows when too much heartache is enough. 

"Crawling back to you," Levi chuckled before continuing. "Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do." 

"Levi, I can't do this right now." It has been about a month, and Hanji has learned. Nifa and Petra did not let her off easily despite crying for days. They lectured her for a week straight, but did not leave her side. They brought food, reminded her about assignments and even took her out on dinner dates. "I have to go." 

Build Me Up Buttercup // The Foundations 

"Levi, you cannot just build me up just to let me down." She pushed him away as he tried to hold on either side of her arm. Hanji was on her way to the cafeteria when Levi pulled her and dragged her to a secluded corner, asking if they could talk. 

"I'm sorry," he blurts out and it makes her pause, his forehead creases as he looks at her with pleading eyes. "Help me, I do not know how to do this." 

Hanji's eyes widen in horror, "what do you mean? Are you okay?" 

"This whole thing, this lo-love." 

It took every nerve inside of Hanji's body for her not to laugh at him. She found it weirdly cute. Sure, he broke her heart, but the man was clearly trying. 

"Is Levi 'I am not the person for you' Ackerman asking for my help?" She brought one hand under her chin, feigning brainstorming. 

"Oh, so you want to think hard? How about I give you something else that's hard?" He pulls her, his bulge meeting with her crotch. "But honestly though, what a simp you are." 

"So you want me to give you a hard time and reject you now? Make you wait for a year?" She smacks his chest. 

"No, I'm fine with waiting but I want you now." He kisses her cheek a couple of times before pressing his lips on hers. 

"Look at you, suddenly a softie," she teases as their noses meet. 

"Have I not always been one?" 

"Yeah, I kept wondering if fuck buddies usually cuddle after sex. Or give the other lunches that they made on their own. Or cleaning the dor—" 

"Okay, you made your point already, four eyes." Levi raises one hand to cup her cheeks, making her look at him in the eye. "I can't promise you something perfect from the books, but I am willing to give you everything that I am." 

"Such a sweet talker!" 

"Oh, whatever." 

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Sander Schmander

By popular request (*cough* everyone on ao3 and @art3misjade), here is Sander's perspective on events

This segment falls right before Chapter Four of Check Ignition

Sander Driesen was drunk. Honest-to-god, shitfaced drunk. And for the first time in forever, too—he’d laid off the stuff since his treatment plan made it difficult to handle, and since he wanted the meds to actually work. But tonight, he thought, I’ve earned this. Everyone else was drinking. It would be weird if he didn’t participate when his own boyfriend was halfway through his fifth cup of punch.

Fake boyfriend. That was a whole thing.

Now, he lay on the stairs leading upward to the boys’ dormitories. Hopefully those stairs. He didn’t make a habit of visiting the common rooms of other houses, and the layouts tended to differ from one another.

“Sorry,” he croaked to everyone who shimmied their way through. “My bad. Deepest apologies.”

This was why he needed Britt, he thought, to reign in this kind of impulse. Granted, she was the only one who knew about everything else thus far, but he wasn’t going to tell Robbe all that, not when it was already hard enough existing in a magical world with a mundane illness. He wanted to hold onto this last little dream.

Midnight was fast approaching and the bustle downstairs had yet to dispel. Sander tried to move his arms and found them unresponsive. Or rather, he could move them, but it required too much effort to be worth it. He slumped back. More people flooded up the stairs to sleep off whatever terrible concoction was in that punch bowl.

“Robbe has such stupid ideas, I swear,” said Moyo, cresting the staircase. Sander perked up at the sound of Robbe’s name. Probably Moyo. Sander struggled to think through the names of Robbe’s friends—he had them listed in his bedroom for continuity purposes.

He recognized Jens easily enough, because Jens was wherever Robbe was. And Sander watched Robbe a lot. Sander held his breath, as if being quiet could prevent them from seeing him sprawled across their path.

“Shut up,” Jens shot back.

The third boy with them—Alex? Adam?—pitched in, “It’s not Robbe’s fault you don’t get any.”

“He’s throwing away the chance of a lifetime.”

“Shut the fuck up. You sound like an incel.”

“But like, why do they kiss so much? It’s not like you have—” Moyo stopped short as he tripped over Sander’s leg. Despite their somewhat rational conversation, they weren’t any more sober than Sander himself. “Shit, speak of the devil.”

Jens leaned down to Sander’s eye level. “You alright?”

“Never better,” Sander slurred. It came out more like a groan.

Moyo approached to help Jens move Sander from the center of the stairs. They sat him up against the railing on his left side, which was not any more comfortable than the steps digging into his back. Jens was still in full Quidditch uniform (even the chest padding!), Moyo sported a Hufflepuff tie over a t-shirt and jeans, and Adam-or-whoever stood at a quiet distance in a pair of burgundy pajama pants and his Quidditch robes. Sander would have made note to write these in on his list—a good indicator of personality.

Too bad he didn’t have the sense to do so.

“Can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” Moyo asked. He didn’t seem very threatening, though the question was definitely a taunt. Sander’s brain felt like vanilla pudding. Moyo turned to the boys. “Should we wake Robbe?”

“Yes,” said Sander. Oh, hell yes. Robbe. He liked Robbe so much.

The story itself was long and antiquated, a love-at-first-sight kind of deal for Sander. He couldn’t think of one version where he wasn’t the bad guy. He went on a double-date with Britt and her friend, expecting one of Noor’s usual yuppies to show up and bore the whole table with pointless conversation. Then it was Robbe.

Do you ever just see someone, really see them, and—how could he phrase it—know? Or think you know. All things considered, it wasn’t the best sign in terms of his condition.

He had to walk all the way into the next town over to call his psychiatrist, only to realize there wasn’t much to tell her. Hey, I’m infatuated with this guy that my girlfriend’s friend is dating. What should I do? She’d give him some common-sense answer like, Break up with your girlfriend, which he didn’t want to do until he knew what he was feeling would last. So he said, These side effects are nasty, and she reevaluated his dose of Lexapro.

“Let the virgin sleep,” said Moyo.

Sander pitched forward to grab Moyo by the arm. “No, wake him up.”

Because the thing was, time passed, and the feelings didn’t fade. Britt could tell he wasn’t present anymore and said nothing. Maybe she thought it was the Depakote that his psychiatrist added to the cocktail when the antidepressant dangled him on the edge of hypomania. She was a good person. It really wasn’t fair when he told her it was over via owl, and it really wasn’t fair when he seized his opportunity to kiss Robbe in the astronomy tower. The argument in question was not so bad. He conflated it for an excuse to leave her.

“Where’s Robbe?” said Sander. “I have to see him.”

“He’s asleep, downstairs. We gave him a blanket and everything.” Jens passed over his own cup of water. “Drink this.”

“I have to see him,” Sander repeated.

“Yeah, you have to go to sleep. He’s going to be here tomorrow.”

“It won’t be the same tomorrow.”

The whole relationship wasn’t even meant to be a thing. It was a cheap kiss, really, in the astronomy tower. Sander just wanted to know what it would feel like, and he thought it might serve Robbe too, so he did it. Robbe’s appearance the next day was the most unexpected, thrilling twist he could have dreamed of. Except, in a dream, it wouldn’t be fake.

Robbe never missed a chance to restate that it was fake. That wasn’t the best sign, either.

“Aaron, don’t just stand there,” said Jens. “Help me out. Grab his arms, will you?”

“Aaron.” Sander tested out the name. “But you’re Adam!”

“How much have you had?” Aaron grabbed Sander’s arms and lifted. The boys got Sander up two stairs before deciding he was too heavy. They sat him back against the wall.

“Try again,” Jens instructed.

The second try went about as well as the first.

Jens crouched to Sander’s eye level. “Look, is there someone else we can get for you? Or are you cool with sleeping here?” He had to hold Sander’s shoulders in his hands to keep Sander from pitching forward and rolling all the way back downstairs.

“We can’t leave our friend’s boyfriend here!” said Aaron.

“Fake boyfriend,” Moyo added.

Sander groaned. Yes, remind him of that! It was fake! He knew it already! If his psychiatrist could see him now, she’d say—alright, she’d say that he wasn’t allowed to drink on his overly specific medication regimen. But if that weren’t a factor, she’d say some more common-sense things like, “Tell Robbe how you feel. Tell his friends, if you want.”

Fuck, he missed her. He could seek out the phone booth sometime this week and tell her all about it. She loved hearing from him.

“There’s no one,” he slurred. “I’m okay.”

“Fine, there’s us, then,” said Jens. He hefted one of Sander’s arms over his shoulder. “Moyo, take three.”

Moyo took the other arm. They dragged him up the rest of the way, bumping his head on every other stair. He felt like a snow globe in a tourist trap shop, all shaken up, no escape through the glass. Huh. Poetic. Where was Robbe?

“Wake up Robbe,” Sander requested. Jens and Moyo dropped him into the fourth bed in their room. Aaron, Jens, and Robbe lived here; Sander could deduce that from the eclectic assortment of things piled on every available surface. The blankets of the bed in which he lay were already rumpled, implying that someone else had slept here recently. He touched something sticky on the top sheet. Okay, maybe they didn’t sleep.

Jens looked back and forth between Moyo and Sander. “Why?” he asked.

There were plenty of replies Sander could give. We’re fake-dating, and I want it to be convincing.

We’re such good friends, and I want to tell him so.

I think he has my cell phone. Jens might not know what a cell phone was. Sander could never tell with those purebloods.

He and I have plans to smoke weed and throw rocks at pixies in the Forbidden Forest.

Sander said, “I misssssss him,” with the s pulled to the end of the world. Yeah, that would work, too.

“Um, okay,” said Jens. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Then he, Aaron, and Moyo started laughing, although Sander couldn’t tell just what they found so funny. Sander had an alarm on his cell phone to take his medication at eleven PM, since schedule was important to the efficacy of the active ingredients, or whatever it was his psychiatrist said when she adjusted his Lexapro to 15mg. It buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t have the pills. He was too tired, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if he skipped a dose or two; he’d done worse things than that with lesser consequences.

“You’re going to get Robbe, right?” he asked, and in a moment of clarity, he realized he was a needy boyfriend. He wasn’t a fan of needy Britt. You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Jens yanked the curtains shut across the fourth bed and bound them with a spell. “You’re drunk, go to sleep. We’ll get Robbe.” The boys began another fit of giggling.

It didn’t bother Sander at all. He stared at the arcing pillars that held up the bedcurtains and hummed a David Bowie song into the darkness. He was young and drunk and in love, and anything could happen. So what if Robbe thought their relationship was fake for now? In a matter of time, it would be real.

[lo-55]

Playing With Fire Ch. 2

What Do You Know?

@emrysaf

When dawn breaks through the window and assaults your eyes you take a few long minutes to relish the feeling of obliviousness. 

If you lay here for long enough and pretend hard enough that yesterday never happened maybe you can open your eyes to your own living room, or even a hospital room where they’ll tell you you took too many Benadryl and hallucinated everything. 

Eventually you have to open your eyes and look to the ceiling. 

You really don’t wanna do this, but here you are. Doing this. 

You really, really wanna open your eyes and find yourself home, with the storm blown over and your life back to normal. You wanna call your parents, who you never knew you could miss quite this bad. 

You can’t do any of these things. 

All you can do is open your eyes and look at the unfamiliar ceiling.

There’s a few cracks in it that you count while you remind yourself how to breathe. Eventually you have to get up and change into the school uniform instead of the blinding orange jumpsuit. If you remember right you were all supposed to meet in a classroom to get your final assignments, and then jump on a train and go to your new company with a resume in hand. 

You ended up following a pair of girls to the classroom, where you plopped yourself next to Shinra. You didn’t see Arthur or Ogun anywhere, which was weird. If you recalled right Ogun stayed in the fourth after graduation, and he and Arthur were close friends of Shinra, even if Arthus disagreed with that fact for the most part. 

You shoot Shinra a quick grin, and turn to face the front again. 

If you remember right, this was where your were assigned the fourth in the game, along with Ogun. You (or the MAIN character) got in trouble snooping around and Ogun, after hearing your reasoning, turned himself into your own personal body guard. 

Now that you were thinking about it, it might be a good idea to start writing everything you know down. 

God knows you’re gonna forget something important when you need to remember it. 

Er, Sol knows? 

This is stupid. 

You look up at some nameless teacher who paces the front, holding a stack of assignments for you and copies of the applications that had been sent to each of the companies. 

This is it. 

You sit a bit straighter. 

The teacher hands out each person a form. When you look to the side you see Shinra grinning that huge, nervous smile of his and it’s all you can do not to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he is. 

The teacher finally hands you your assignment. 

Company 8. 

You do a fist pump. 

“Hell yeah! First choice!” 

A few of your classmates shoot you startled looks. Was your character really so quiet before? 

“Hey, I got the same one,” Shinra poked his head over to see. The list was pretty simple. All it said was the company number, their captain, leuitenant, and address. A glance around revealed that everyone else had a whole packet of information on their new companies. But 8 was so small, and so new, apparently they didn’t warrant it. 

That was fine. You already knew enough it hardly mattered. 

“We’ll be together then,” you say cheerfully. “Wanna take the train together?” 

Please say yes. I don’t know where the train station is. Or how to ride one. 

Shinra nodded, “Yeah. Sounds like fun.” 

“Wanna meet at my room and we’ll go? It says we’re supposed to meet them at their station this afternoon.” 

“Are you sure?” Shinra looked startled. You poked his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t, babe.” 

Shinra suddenly looked unsettled. “You’re not just doing this to mess with me, right?” 

“Mess with you?” You cocked your head. “What would I do that for?” 

He didn’t have an answer for that, but it made you sad. You knew he got teased a lot, but was it really so bad he thought you being friendly was a trick? 

You were so gonna get in a fight here someday. 

You flipped your company eight paper around so you could take a look at the copy of your resume that they’d be getting there. It was pretty bare bones. It had your name, age, weight, height, blood type, and listed you as a Second Class Fire Soldier, as well as your grades. They were all pretty average, but apparently you were good at math. 

You didn’t have a home address, but it did say you were Ueno, but that part you knew already. In the game you’d gone to Asakusa on an errand, done a bunch of side quests, and found out that Ueno was your home town and it was nearby. It was mostly made of museums and old buildings. 

Still nothing about your pyrokinesis. Damn it. 

This was starting to get annoying. 

“So I’ll see you in a few hours, right?” You clarify quickly, looking up at Shinra. 

Shinra still looks surprised, but he nods quickly, with another small smile. “Yeah. I’ll see you then.” 

You bump fists with him again before you retreat to your room. 

You take to your desk and grab a pencil and paper to try to write down everything you remember, in english for good measure. You don’t know how you know japanese now, but then again you don’t know a lot of things lately. 

What I know for sure: 

MAIN CHARACTER’s family is from Ueno. They died in an infernal fire. They had a sister they’re looking for. They have their sisters ring, a scar on their wrist, and lighter that’s connected to the Tragic Back Story. After the fire SISTER enrolled in the Fire Force Special Academy, leaving MAIN on their own for a few years. She disappeared not long after graduating, and MAIN joined to try to find her in turn. 

In the original game MAIN joins fourth company, which their sister was a part of before her disappearance. In their first night there they dream of a man in a red suit who smiles and pats their head. He’s probably important. Maybe dad??? Likely dead. They snoop around and get in trouble a couple of times, but the captain is on their side and let’s it slide with a slap on the wrist? And no mention of wanting to be lit on fire. He’s a cool, if weird old dude. 

Ogun takes it upon himself to look after MAIN after they nearly get arrested looking into 5th company. 

    Note, avoid the Princess until after Shinra works his magic. 

A choice is made: agree to let Ogun help or ditch him. 

MAIN chose help and together THEY snuck into the Holy Sol Temple. While Ogun looks above, MAIN manages to find a door leading down to old training grounds.

    Note. MAIN didn’t know they were for the shadow sun whatever they were called training. 

MAIN gets lost and pops out at the end of a tunnel, where Joker happens to be setting some cards up. 

    Note . Why???? 

A choice is made ; Tell Joker the truth or lie. 

MAIN admits to Joker that they’re looking into a disappearance, and suspect the church of having something to do with it. They admit that they think the entire situation is a little hazy, and the history is a fragile thing. After that Joker is considered a Friend.  

MAIN returns to Ogun, but only hints at what they found underground. That night they dream of the Man in Red, who tries to speak to them and pats them again. They notice he has a ring with the same design as their own. 

MAIN also spent time in Asakusa with Benimaru Shinmon and Konro. MAIN was little more than an over glorified messenger at the time, but took advantage of the opportunity to see their old home. (UENO) 

    Note. Benimaru is hot

A choice is maid ; leave at once or help out. 

Did a buncha side quests in Asakusa when MAIN stumbled on an old subway entrance in the basement of a restaurant they were working in. The owner says it’s dangerous to go down, but there are a few other holes around the city. Most have been boarded up long ago. 

MAIN, not knowing what they are, leaves them be. 

    Note. Were the subways part of the underground church forbidden place??? Asakusa doesn’t follow the church? So they don’t think they’d curses just dark and flooded? 

MAIN goes home. Rumors of the White Clad begin to circulate, and MAIN goes to company eight to ask Shinra about them directly, thinking that their sister might have been taken by them. 

. . . 

You look at your paper and realize something vital. 

You’ve misspelled maid. 

Fuck it. 

You also write the three powers you could have picked down in blue ink, taking the last pen in your drawer out.

The fire wings, Phoenix in the game. They were support type, with heavy defense properties and minor healing powers, but you couldn't fly which was lame. 

The fire spear, the Sun Lance, was a damage type power. It took fire from around you and made a blade at the end of a long stick. Technically it was a spear, but if you flipped it upside down you could ride it like a witches broom. That one you could fly with, but not the wings. 

The magnet sand, Dark Desert, was a tank type. They made a lot of long range weapons and smashed through fire pretty easily and made strong walls, but it couldn't get too close to you or you yourself will take damage, and you can’t move while you use it. 

They’re all really cool, but you still don’t know which you have and you have no idea how to find out. And you can’t ask anyone or you’ll look crazy! 

...Maybe you should arrange an ‘accidental’ fall down the stairs and claim anmesia. 

Just when you’re seriously considering that option a harsh knock sounds on the door. 

You jump and smash your arm so hard into the drawer you actually break the bottom out of it. 

“Shit! Just a second!” You yell at the door. You scramble to try to hide the evidence when you realize ; the drawer isn’t broken. The bottom is fake. 

You carefully extract, from within, a thin, red, leatherbound book. A look at the inside cover shows you a note. 

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatter brain. 

<3 Fuyuki

Another knock sounds. 

“Hey! Are you ready to go?” Calls Shinra from the other side. 

“Y-yeah! Just a second!” You stuff the book into the front pocket of your bag and throw yourself to the door. You swing it open and throw Shinra back with your blinding grin. 

“Let’s go!” 

~

When the two of you board the train, each clutching your bag close, you’re forced to stand shoulder to shoulder with Shinra, who ends up keeping up his grin the whole time even though you can see him visibly straining to stop it. 

It probably doesn’t help that you keep looking at him, but oh well. 

The second you step out on the platform the screaming starts. A burning train is on its way. An infernal. You and Shinra scramble towards the sound, with Shinra in the lead, and come to a halt just in time to see the train stop. Fire streams out the windows and a creature from a nightmare crawls out of door. 

You swallow thickly. You can smell burning flesh. You can feel heat on your skin. 

This is real. 

You tear your eyes away from the walking corpse in time to see Company 8’s bad ass entrance. They’re all so cool! Maki is such a badass, and Obi is way too strong, and Iris is sweet faced and determined- 

You’re barely able to focus on the infernal itself, and you actually forget that the big metal sign is going to fall up until it happens. 

Shinra shoots off like a bullet. 

You’re left behind, your hair whipping behind you and your arm raised to protect your face while Shinra saves Iris for not-the-last-time. 

You watch him introduce himself, for a moment feeling like you’re just an observer. Its not really intruding, but the familiarity of it all doesn’t help anything. 

It’s not until Shinra points at you and says your name that you snap to attention. Your body knows to salute even if you don’t. 

“Sir!” You echo. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. That was totally awesome, sir.” 

Obi gives you a brief once over before he nods, seriously. 

“Yes. Yes it was. It’s good to have the two of you. Come on. We should get going, back to the cathedral.” 

You and Shinra hurry to grab your things and follow after the four of them. 

When they’re not looking you elbow Shinra. 

“That was so cool!” You hiss. “I didn’t even have time to react and you totally saved the sister!” 

“A-ah, you really think so?” Shinra looked away, his cheeks pink and his grin huge. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “ I just did what any hero would!” 

You laugh and swing your arm around his shoulder. “True! Still, it was really awesome. I know I can count on you to help me in the future, right?” 

Shinra nods quickly, however embarrassed he might be.

“Yeah! Or I’m not-” 

You don’t get to hear his new, weird nickname. You’re cut off by the fact that instead of loading into a matchbox the captain has called you a cab. 

That’s weird. 

You know that’s weird. 

“...I don’t get it, but I’m not fighting it,” you say after a minute, and crawl inside. Shinra follows suit and the two of you finally make your way to the run down cathedral. 

Home suite home. 

 ~  ~

A/N So which power do you guys wanna see?

Dark Desert, Phoenix, or Sun Lance? Please let me know!

[treeni]

Sanders Sides Orange Side Predictions

Theories Masterpost

If you haven’t read @averykedavra‘s post on the idea then you absolutely should. It is extremely well thought out and considers a lot of possibilities about the Orange side, even though there are some specific thoughts that I personally disagree with, it is absolutely worth reading through.

First, I want to say I agree with them pointing out @dragonsaphirareads character Otto, aka “Obsession” as being a brilliant take on what the Orange character could be from a conceptual basis. I also think @candied-peach / Peachsneaker’s character Wrath is another brilliant take on the opposite side of the spectrum of the potential of what the orange side could be. Honestly, if you haven’t, you should check out these two creators' works immediately as they are both completely fantastic writers and have a lot of great Sanders Sides stories, both with and without romance.

My only gripe is that I think both characters are too inherently good in their depictions. Personally, I think both authors are right, to a point. I think the Orange character would be someone who cares too much and takes things too far. What’s interesting about DragonSapphiraRead’s character, is that he was once Passion and gave up parts of himself to the others. It’s interesting, but I personally don’t think that’s how it’s going to go.

Instead I think Passion is exactly the trait that the darkside character is going to embody and this is where I most agree with averykedavra’s take. I think the Orange side is going to come in as someone who appears “good,” “right,” and even “helpful” at first glance, and yet, you gradually start to realize the problems further on. 

If you look at the progression of the darksides so far, you may notice that  they have followed the rule of three in establishing a pattern. Virgil showed up and scared the others until his point got across until he was listened to, so really was it any surprise when both Janus and Remus immediately did the same upon their introductions? Given the divide, it took time and understanding to start being open to the good that Virgil brings. Janus has only just started to really prove to Thomas that he is well intentioned and Remus hasn’t even begun that part of the journey yet. However, you can see the three characters all in various states of the pattern that Virgil set. Virgil is at acceptance, Janus is at tolerance (or at least close to it) and Remus is still at distrust, but past the introduction and initial scare.Their actions have all followed the rule of three behavior that establishes a pattern for the audience to recognize. We inherently know Janus and Remus as being on the same “track” as Virgil was on a subconscious level.

Which is why I think the Orange side will absolutely destroy that expectation by diverting from that path and all current expectations of darksides. After a pattern of accepting the darksides, I think they will decide to immediately give the Orange side a chance because by then they will also have multiple examples of their shortsightedness about the darksides potential in helping Thomas.

 I also think Orange will absolutely come in and appear good at first glance. This will probably happen after Janus is really, truly accepted by the other sides and Remus is at least on his way to being accepted. I also really liked averykedavra’s idea that the orange side gives his name immediately, but I disagree on the idea that he can hide his role. The roles are something that others have been shown to bring up to the group and be generally aware of. No side has had to introduce their role as far as I can remember.

However I actually think of this as further evidence for the side having the role of Passion instead of Wrath or Obsession. Because Passion seems good at baseline and is absolutely good if controlled. However, Passion also encapsulates things like Wrath, Obsession, Procrastination, and Spite.

Imagine if you will, a side that comes in dressed as seemingly innocuous in fandom gear and tee shirts with big smiles and excitement. He quickly and easily proclaims his excitement of all of the others’ work and is extremely supportive at the beginning. I could see CharacterThomas becoming quickly and easily attached to someone who seems so positive and relatable. I think he’d be a little like Patton at first glance, but more childish. There would be none of the “fatherly” care in him for example. He would seem interested in what the others would say and generally only make quiet additions to the conversation. In the beginning it seems as if he brings out the good in the other sides with his small bits of help and encouragement. Except, he doesn’t stop at small. Instead as the sides start to become used to his presence he starts pushing things further and further. 

This side never lies, he doesn’t need to. He can manipulate the truth to do his bidding. He gently reminds Roman of all of the things he hasn’t yet achieved of his dreams. As a friend he pulls Patton aside to remind him of some of the bad things happening recently in the world, just to warn him of course. He asks for Logan’s help in clarifying  some facts that might be a little uncomfortable, but definitely important. He gently nudges Virgil about some of the dangerous things that could have happened to Thomas and really? Isn’t he just lucky to have come out okay so far? And self-preservation? No, not even he’s safe as the side reminds him of the rocky state of his “supposed acceptance” until Janus’ doubts overtake him.

You think Thomas struggles in dealing with one of them acting in extremes? Just wait until they all are. Logan becoming obsessive, Roman becoming unfocused, Virgil becoming paranoid, Patton becoming hysterical, and even Janus literally walling himself away because he devolves into extreme self-defense. (Also possibly trying to hastily wall just him and Thomas away. Because defensive rationality.)

The vast differences between the caring Patton and this side become increasingly clear to the audience, but by this point it’s too late. The sides are (almost) all hanging on his every word.

Logan can’t outmaneuver manipulative honesty, Virgil can’t caution against it, Roman’s too restricted to find a creative solution for it. Even Patton and Janus are ineffective because not only does it sound and feel right, it also seems akin to some of Janus’ behavior of revealing “uncomfortable” truths that Thomas doesn’t want to hear. 

I think this side is going to slowly drive the others into their own extreme biases until their own behaviors are so chaotic and restless they become literally unable to contribute to the conversation.

I also think that will be what makes this particular side terrifying. Instead of scaring the others into listening to him, he simply feeds into their own biases until they are so divided there is no longer a conversation. 

You see, this side wouldn’t simply want to be a voice to be heard. He would want to be the only voice.

Okay, now for my justification as to why. 

1. As I already mentioned before, we as humans like threes, comedians will list three things to establish a pattern and then add a fourth in a “one of these is not like the others” to make a joke. The best way to break a pattern is to flip expectation on its head. This side is already breaking that ideology simply by existing as a fourth darkside. He isn’t there to follow the others paths.

2. Janus and Remus’ religious dialogue that is telling of their own negative views of their lack of “inherent goodness” because they consistently use their own existences as proof of Thomas’ “inherent evilness.” While being revealing of their thought processes, I also believe it is a hint to the last side’s state as a Lucifer-like character in the classical sense of his intended perception. Not a demon, but an angel. Someone who believes they have done no wrong and tempts you on a personal level.

3. Also consider some of the things orange as a color symbolizes: encouragement, enthusiasm, and motivation, yes, but also ambition, domination, temptation, and warning.

It’s still loose evidence as we haven’t even met the side yet, but we as an audience can still derive a lot about him from the other characters.

Now that I’m here shoving all my opinions in your faces, I might as well go all out. 

I am currently two for three on darkside names so I’m going to throw my hat in and tell you my guess on that too. 

If the new Orange side follows my predictions I also think he will be named Aiden. 

Why? First, it means “fiery one” which is a perfect association for both passion and the color orange. It also mimics a “light side” name without quite fitting in with the “en” ending. Additionally, like most names, it is a modernization of older names and this particular one has derivative connections to both the Celtic god of sun and fire “Aodh” and the Greek god “Aidoneus” otherwise known as Hades. (Also keep in mind that Lucifer’s name means Morningstar, aka the sun.) Finally, the word “Aid” is literally in the name to give the impression of innocence. 

And that is my TED talk.

[weasleydream]

A story of love, pain and shitty parents - part 4

The fourth part is finally here, I’m sorry it’s been so long!

To be honest, I’m really disappointed with this chapter, I feel like I haven’t been able to write down what I really wanted to transmit. It was a really important part for me and no matter how bad I think it is, I won’t be able to do better, I’ve made it too personal for that sooo I still hope it’s okay!

As usual feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist 

The first of September was near and it looked like all the students had begged their parents for one last trip at what had become their favourite place in the world. To be fair, Weasley Wizard Wheezes was a beautiful shop, and it looked even more alive now that most of the other shops in Diagon Alley had disappeared. 

“I don’t understand why your name isn’t on the storefront.” Mrs Hoggs, an old lady who couldn’t refuse her grandson any visit here, was looking for a few Sickles in her bag. “I mean, you’ve helped with this shop, right? You should have your part of recognition, that’s all I’m saying.” she added without letting me a second to reply. 

Her eyes fell on the picture that was hanging on the wall right behind me. It had been taken on the inauguration of the shop, and I was squeezed between Fred and George in front of the dream of a life. If Mrs Hoggs was particularly obsessed by the fact that I “didn’t have enough recognition”, she wasn’t the only one wondering why I seemed to be “left on the sidelines”. That was so annoying that even her grandson sighed. 

“Aren’t you bothered? If you want my opinion…” Mrs Hoggs kept babbling. She was so passionate by her one-sided debate that I exchanged an exasperated look with her grandson. “Oh, Mr Weasley!” she suddenly exclaimed at the very moment Fred’s arm wrapped around me. “I was talking about-”

“I know, Mrs Hoggs, I’ve heard that same speech a few times already.”

Fred smiled kindly, and I once more wondered how he would stay so calm in all circumstances. 

“And we don’t need to change the shop’s name for the very good reason that one day, Y/N will be a Weasley too.” 

Fred left with a broad smile on his lips, leaving me alone with a flabbergasted Mrs Hoggs and my shaky legs. Suddenly, my heart was beating harder than ever and I could have sworn my cheeks had never been that red. 

“Can I have my pygmy puff now?”

_ _ _ 

I found Fred lying on the couch, his eyes closed and an arm thrown on his face. Thinking he was sleeping, I silently grabbed the brush I had left on the table and detangled my hair, which were still wet from the hot shower I had just taken. I headed to Fred with the intention to wake him up, but his steady breath and his peaceful attitude made me stop. It was more and more rare that Fred was calm, and no matter how hard they tried to hide it, I knew that both he and his twin were worried sick. About the war, obviously, but I was willing to bet that they were also scared for me. Without realizing it, I had sat just in front of him and modeled my breathing after his. 

“Are you going to watch me like this for long?” Even though his voice was quiet, I jumped and looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Hey, love, come here.”

Fred opened his arms and I curled up against him like a cat. He embraced me and pulled me against his torso as hard as he could without hurting me, and at the moment I wanted nothing but being closer to him. But instead, I murmured in his ear, scared my voice would either show how overwhelmed I was or how desperate. 

“Did you mean it? What you said at the shop, did you really mean it?”

Fred shivered, and a part of my brain realized it was the effect of my voice. 

“Of course I meant it. I love you Y/N, and I think Y/N Weasley sounds more than good.”

I wanted to say so many things, that I loved him too, more than anything else in this world or every other world, that I wanted to be his for the rest of my life, I wanted to find a good joke to avoid expressing my deepest feelings, but I found myself unable to do that. Instead, I smiled, broadly, and I kissed him. 

“Fred, Y/N, are you- Merlin, not again!”

Fred groaned and let go of me, and I got up to face George’s amused look. 

“Don’t you think it’s time for you to find an apartment of your own? I mean, as much as I tolerate you, always walking in on you snogging is getting annoying.”

George was smirking, but in fact, the three of us knew what the situation was. The war was imminent, the terror had taken an important place in our lives and the only future we could see was uncertainty. No matter what he would say, George didn’t want to let us go, nor did Fred and I want to leave. That’s also why talking about a wedding was so strange for me. For all that we knew, we could be all dead within the next month. 

“Is there a reason why you interrupted us?” suddenly asked Fred to break the uncomfortable silence. 

“Actually, yes. Mum is going to kill us if we aren’t at the Burrow in an hour. You know how obsessed she’s been with Harry’s birthday.”

_ _ _ 

Once again, everything happened without me understanding anything. One second, Bill and Fleur’s guests were dancing and laughing, and for the first time in what felt like years I was genuinely smiling and enjoying a dance with Fred, and the second after everything was chaos and everyone was screaming. I didn’t know where George was, and I didn’t have any other choice than to assume he was alright. Fred jumped aside when a green flash of light flew toward him, grabbing my waist before falling on the ground. 

“Leave!” he screamed, gesturing toward the Burrow. 

I shook my head and pushed him out of another flash of light’s way. 

“Y/N, please, I need you to leave!”

To be honest, I didn’t know why I did it. Maybe it was something in Fred’s eyes; this pure terror that made them look almost black, or maybe it was because of the crack of his voice as he was begging me to leave. Maybe it was something else, an instinct that was murmuring that I had something else to do. I didn’t know, but I eventually nodded and gave my back to Fred. By now, a lot of guests had disappeared and I found a way to leave the tent quite easily - without paying attention to the Death Eaters trying to kill everyone, of course. 

And suddenly, I understood. I understood why something had made me leave Fred alone in the danger, I understood why my instinct prevented me from apparating away from the carnage. 

First, it took the form of a reflect, light and almost insignificant, a little golden spot in the darkness. I fixed it, and slowly, the shape of a person appeared. The silhouette was darker than black, and I knew the man’s soul was ten times worse. 

I had thought my hatred would get over my self control. I had spent so much time hating him, promising myself the most terrible of revenges, I had sworn he would die because of what he had done to Fred, and I had imagined this moment a thousand times. But I hadn’t imagined I would walk calmly toward him, toward the man who had tortured me and killed the first person who had ever loved me. I could have never imagined it, yet I was walking toward my father, almost a year and a half after the last time I had been in his presence. 

“I’m surprised.” he spoke up, and I shivered. Too many memories were flooding in my mind, things I had tried so hard to forget. “I thought you would have tried to kill me.”

The acid line I wanted to throw at his face stayed blocked in my throat, and all of sudden I found myself on the verge of crying. I didn’t know why, but I was feeling like I was a little girl again, trying to hold back her tears as her father was walking slowly toward her, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cane in the other. My eyes fell on what had produced the golden light, and I gasped when my necklace shone. Slowly, I lifted my hand, reproducing a gesture I had done a thousand times, except that this time my fingers found nothing.

“I wanted to talk to you.” he said, his voice calm as if he had never done anything to me. As if he had never tortured me. “I wanted to explain.”

He took a step forward and I took three backwards. My breathing was shaky, along with my legs and the rest of my body. For a few seconds, all I could see was the light hitting me, the chimney masked by a veil of tears, Mary bathed in a green light, and then my father’s figure, more terrifying than ever, and too close for my own good. 

“I want to explain why I will destroy everything you ever cared for.”

A hundred of Cruciatus curses would have been less painful than imagining him killing Fred, George, Molly, Arthur and all of those I had ever loved. My hands were shaking and only now did I notice I didn’t have my wand. 

He took a step, and I found myself unable to move. 

“I want you to know why I’ll make you suffer like I suffered.”

Everything else seemed to have disappeared. There was only him in front of me, and the weight of the promise he was making, a weight so heavy that I was suffocating and weakening more and more. 

“You killed the love of my life. I will kill you for that.”

He took another step, and my knees gave up on me. I fell on the ground and cowered, my eyes closed and the sound of my sobs hiding the other sounds. I didn’t see him, but I felt him kneeling in front of me. I desperately tried to regain control, I tried to remember Fred’s blood, Mary’s body, my own pain, but my brain was dizzy and I was unable to move. 

“But  won’t kill you now.” he whispered in my ear. “It would be too easy, don’t you think? I want you to be scared. I want you to wonder when I’ll come back for you. I want you to stop living, I want you to be scared of dying.” 

And, still unable to move, still paralyzed by his hold on me, I bit my lips to stop a scream when his fingers touched my skin, putting the necklace back around my neck. 

“You look like her.” he declared with a quiet voice, the one that had always scared me the most. “You look like your mother.”

“Don’t talk about her.”

It was the first thing I managed to say, the words escaping my mouth despite the lump in my throat. As soon as they echoed in the night, I looked down and tensed, subconsciously waiting for a punishment. It was an old habit, and I doubted I would ever be able to get rid of it. 

“You killed her.” I added, feeling barely braver when he said nothing. 

He laughed with a terrible laugh, maniacal and without an ounce of joy. Only pure insanity. 

“No, you killed her. The Dark Mark killed her. Mary killed her. But me? I just loved her. And you killed her. We were perfect together, and you came between us. You got rid of her, I get rid of you. This is a good deal.”

It felt like I was another person when I noticed I was shaking. I could imagine the way my lips were trembling, the way my hands were hidden in the folds of my dress, and the way my eyes were full of tears. 

“I don’t understand…” I cried out, unable to do anything else than to express how broken I was and to despise myself for being so pathetic. “Mary- Mary was her friend and- you were the one who forbade her… I don’t understand… Please leave me alone, I don’t want to-”

“Oh no! No no no no no!” my father gave his back to me, taking a few steps forwards before turning again and throwing his arms to the sky. “Mary never listened to me! She never listened! She hated your mother, she let her die!” and he laughed, a laughter without life or joy, only insanity. His mouth was twisted in a strange way as if he was going to cry at the same time. “Mary killed her, the Dark Mark killed her, and you killed her.” 

Suddenly, he was dead serious again, the only sign showing any disturbance being the compulsive clenching of his fists. I almost crawled backwards, my eyes never leaving the hand that was holding his wand. 

“Looks like the fun is over. See you soon, Y/N.”

And he disappeared, leaving me alone and shaking on the grass, his silhouette burned in my retina for what I believed was forever. Only now did I realize how hard my heart was beating. It was pounding against my ribcage like a desperate animal trying to escape. I would have done anything to escape too, because my whole body seemed to have become a jail which role was to keep me ready for whenever my father would show up. 

Around me, everything was silent. Too silent, like the calm after the storm. As my brain was getting less clouded, I remembered what had happened before the moment I had ended up in front of my father. For a second, I wondered why the Death Eaters were so silent, then I understood they were gone. I only reacted when voices screamed my name. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N, where are you?”

I walked away, an unpleasant impression of being watched making me shiver. When I reached the first silhouette I had seen, the whole discussion with my father had begun to sink in me, and thousands of questions were invading my head. 

“Y/N?”

George took a few steps toward me, approaching slowly and talking with a small voice, as if he was in front of a wounded animal. Maybe he wasn’t wrong, maybe I was really a wounded animal, fragile and desperate to defend herself until her death which was obviously close. 

Thinking about my death made something crack in me; a wall I had struggled to build and that was supposed to protect me. When the wall completely broke, it stopped containing everything I had kept hidden for years. Every pain, every tear, every scream, it all came back to me with such a vigour that I fell back on my knees and I screamed. 

_ _ _ 

Without a word, Molly handed me a cup of tea in which she had added some firewhiskey. I was squeezed on the couch between Fred and George, still trembling even though sweat was covering my forehead. I didn’t even notice the few drops that fell on my dress when I lifted the cup, nor did I notice Fred’s arm around me. I didn’t see the concerned look exchanged between Arthur and Molly either, all of that because I was lost in my thoughts. My father had said so many things, but all of this couldn’t be true, right? 

“Your necklace,” murmured Fred. “Did he give it back to you?”

I promptly yanked it out with the very strong feeling that it had left a burn on my skin. My eyes fell on my closed fist in which I was clenching and something, an image, came back from the depths of my memory. Something that looked like a book under George’s arm as he was looking for the place where he had hidden Fred. A book I had never seen afterwards, because I had refused in the first place and then because I had forgotten it. A book that had to be pretty important for George to take him with him in the emergency. 

“The book.” I murmured. Fred shifted, Molly looked away. Something was wrong. “You still have it, right? I want to read it.”

“There’s nothing important in this book.” said George, his voice a bit too low for him to be honest. 

I looked at Fred, and he turned his head a bit too late. I had seen his eyes fixed on my fist.

“Fred, tell me.” 

He looked up, and his worried eyes met mine. He bit his lips before slowly taking my hands, looking quickly at George and Arthur before eventually sighing. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve hidden that to you, love. I thought- I thought you wouldn’t want to know it. The book was a sort of journal. It was written by your mother. She…”

My heart was pounding, it was the only thing I could hear besides Fred’s voice. 

“She was a Death Eater too. That’s why she was alone... That’s why she’s dead.”

The Dark Mark killed her. 

Tags: @pregnant-piggy​ @la3divine​

[krispydefendorpolice]

Once Upon A Miraculous - Part 2

Ok before we even get into the story here’s yet another warning to think twice before you continue. Jason dies. He dies in a gruesome, traumatizing event and even though I think I went over it very lightly I still think it’s pretty fucking graphic. I’m the writer and I. Had. To. Fucking. Stop. And take a break before I could continue with the story.

Violence and the results it can have on the body ahead. Madness from the pit and angst from hurt feeling of being replaced ahead. For the last time. You’ve all been warned so read at your own risk.

I’m going to trust that you all know your headspace well enough and for those that choose to read anyways? Thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope the falls between here and the end are worth the river journey and the lake we reach at the end (yes those are f*ing metaphors. I’m feeling philosophical at the moment)

Previous Masterpost list

————————————

“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive”

****************************

Jason was 14 years old when he met the Batman. He came across an unwatched batmobile. The tires on it could be sold for more than the average car and he had the tools on him.

One last check and he got to work. He was already thinking about the things he could buy for himself and his street siblings that he forgot the number one rule. Always keep a lookout.

The Batman caught him red handed with three wheels off and the fourth half done. After being forced to return the wheels to the car Jason was taken to the underground batcave. He met Alfred and the unmasked Batman. Bruce “fucking billionaire” Wayne.

Less than a month later he’s living in the manor and has been “adopted”. He doesn’t trust it. Rich men don’t want son’s and there are too many kids with stories about the horrors that “nice family’s” hide behind closed doors. But he’s got a roof over his head and food in his stomach. If Wayne thinks that will be enough to buy him he’s going to find out how wrong he was.

Jason starts small at first. If he can just get the man angry enough to throw him out he won’t have to worry about being brought back. Setting all the alarms in the house and making them unfixable was a bit of a challenge. Seeing Bruce’s face when he changed the passwords was brilliant.

It continued that way for a few months until Bruce finally decided if Jason was gonna be a little shit he could learn to fight better instead. Jason decided that if he was going to learn to fight he would take over the abandoned Robin role too.

Dick was not happy. The first time Jason got to meet the man was after he was seen as Robin. He came to the manor and yelled at Bruce, saying he had no right to give his costume and name to someone else. Jason listened from the second story.

As angry as the two men got neither came to blows over it. Dick ended the fight by storming out and he put the older hero on radio silence for months after but neither had any injuries from their disagreement. If Jason had ever even looked at his old man funny as a kid he would have a black eye and welts on his back to show for it.

Maybe Bruce could be trusted after all?

****************************

At 15 years old Bruce is engaged to Selina Kyle. Their on again off again thing as hero and thief where they danced around each other had been driving Jason and Alfred batty. It was nice to see them actually settle into their thing as each challenged the other and kept them on their toes.

When Selina said she was going to be spending the summer with the daughter of an old schoolmate of hers Jason didn’t think much of it. He knew she had a legit degree she used to assess the potential spoils of her criminal activities.

He arrived at Wayne Enterprises a little early for their lunch meeting. Bruce had told him they’d meet in the lobby so after greeting the receptionists he looked for a place to sit. In one of the chairs facing the doors a small girl looked up at the windows before going back to her book and writing something. No she was probably drawing with long pencil strokes like that.

Curious he walked over to see if he could look at her drawing. He could see what looked like an image of the stained glass windows on the page but the lines through them gave it a softer, almost flowing shape. Which was weird cause glass wouldn’t follow those lines.

“What are you drawing?” He found himself asking her.

She jumped so he’d obviously surprised her. His thoughts were captured by her bright blue eyes. In the light coming from those stained glass windows she’d been admiring they almost seemed to glow.

She said she was designing a dress while she waited for her guardian and the fiancé to return. This must be Selina’s friends daughter.

Lunch was a fun affair where the girl shared she would be designing costumes for Jagged stone to wear during his concert tour this summer. She would stay with Selina in Gotham from Monday to Thursday while she designed and created clothes she would fly to whatever city Jagged was playing in from Thursday to Sunday to be on hand during the concerts for any costume repairs that would be needed.

Bruce volunteered Jason to show Marinette around the city since it wouldn’t be safe for her to be alone. Jason agrees because it’s summer break and he likes the Marinette he talked stained glass windows with and wonders what other beauty she will see in his dark city.

**

He is breathless by the beauty she sees all around her. The joy and happiness she shines as easily as she breathes. Everyone she meets becomes a new friend. Even the tamer of the Rogues and the Siren’s who meet her are enthralled by her smile and her charm.

Kissing her was a completely spontaneous action. He had thought about it for weeks by then but she had said there was a guy back home she sort of still had a crush on though she wasn’t happy with how they wanted to deal with the liar situation. So he was resigned to keeping his budding feelings to himself so that he could see her happy.

It had been the night of the last concert. Jagged had Marinette come on stage where he officially introduced her as his designer and the creator of all the tour costumes to the world. She had beamed with a smile so wide that when she threw herself into Jason’s arms after walking off stage he had just pulled back and placed a kiss on her lips.

He froze when he realized what he did. Marinette had stood on her tiptoe to start their second kiss.

For a week they were blissfully happy and free with their affection. Multiple paparazzi got pictures of them holding hands, kissing each other or just cuddling when they were waiting. Jasonette and the Sunshine of Gotham blew up on social media.

Saying goodbye to her was a really hard thing to do. So Jason went shopping for something he could give her to remember him by. They had decided they would try a long distance thing but he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. If they did fall apart from distance he wanted something she could use to always fondly remember the summer fling they had.

It was perfect. He knew it might be impractical but he was convinced that it would be the perfect gift for her someday.

************************

They made it work. They had talked everyday and he spent every chance he could in France with her. He met her parents and they met Bruce as well. Marinette had her school situation resolved following her return.

He was proud of her for sticking up for herself when all her classmates seemed ready to abandon the liar just because Marinette had a connection they could use again. Nathaniel, Rose and Juleka were all artsy like Marinette and he could see how their creative energies inspired each other and themselves.

He was a week away from his departure to spend the summer in France with Marinette and her family when it happened. A false lead led to his capture by the Joker.

(Begin Angst)

The first break hurt but it was bearable. He had broken bones before. His bio dad had broken them frequently when he was still alive. The fifth hurt as bad. He also had a concussion and several burns at that time as well.

What felt like days, weeks, years... minutes?, passed in a haze as he jerked with every new hit. He was a mess from vomit, blood, piss and shit when his body couldn’t follow his commands any longer.

He held to the belief that Batman would come for him. That his father could still save him.

When the Joker left, Jason was lying on the concrete floor looking at the bomb countdown. He knew he had to get out of there, he pushed his battered body past the point he could feel pain and struggled to the door. He pulled on it but it wouldn’t open. The rattle of chains on the other side told him why.

He collapsed to the floor, tears streaming as he watched the numbers countdown.

10, 9, 8...

I’m sorry Alfred.

7, 6, 5,...

I’m sorry Bruce.

4, 3,...

I’m sorry Nettie.

2, 1,

I love...

(End Angst)

He was only 16. He would never see 17.

***************************

It was dark. It was small. It was hard to breathe. He was in some kind of box. He screamed and hit the walls around him trying to get out, trying to find some air.

It surprised him when cold pieces fell from above him. It had a new smell. He focused his determination on that spot. More of the new thing came down into his cage. He pushed it away from him and continued. There. Briefly a breath of clean, fresh air.

With new determination he pushed harder towards the life giving air. He was able to pull his head and shoulders out of the box. He rested for a moment swallowing greedy gulps of air into his starved lungs. When he was able to continue he pulled himself from the ground and looked around. As far as his eye could see were stones standing from the ground around him and beyond those trees and underbrush fading into shadows.

He picked a direction at random and began to walk.

**

It was familiar. Grab an item, run. The actions came without conscious memory. The streets were cold but he was big enough to scare off the worst of the predators. There were a few small people, kids, that came to him for protection from the bigger people. He did what he could but it never seemed to be enough he thought, as he stood over another small, broken body.

“I can give you a way to protect them.”

He looked up. She was beautiful but her eyes were cold. Empty and unfeeling. But she had promised to give him a way to protect the little ones. He was willing to try anything for that power.

What was his name? How old was he? He didn’t know.

****************************************

Jason.

He remembered his name as he lunged from the sickly green waters that Talia had led him to. He remembered Bruce, his father, but he didn’t save him from the Joker. He remembered the Jokers laughter ringing in his ears as he stood over another broken child on the streets. And the new shadow following the shape of the Batman when he was an amnesiac wandering the streets of Gotham.

He had been REPLACED!! He fumed. The anger and resentment over Bruces inability to save him, to avenge him and his replacing him as if Jason meant nothing, festered and boiled in his mind.

When he left the League of Shadows his only plan was to go back to Gotham and get revenge for his own death and to hurt his so called father as badly as he could. If Jason meant so little to him then he would show how little Bruce meant to him.

**

(Mild violence ahead)

Their first reunion was in a fight over drug dealers selling heroin to kids. Jason looked directly at the bat, pulled his gun and shot the dealers in the forehead.

(Violence over)

“These are my streets now. I won’t tolerate kids getting hurt on my watch.”

He disappeared before Batman could restrain him.

For weeks they danced around. Batman trying to catch him and Jason using every trick he learned from the Bat himself to avoid him.

Blood flowed freely from the wicked and the corrupt. He was a villain in his own right bringing judgement and execution down upon the criminals of Gotham.

Batman always appealed to the better side of him, to stop his madness. Didn’t he understand that part died? The child that trusted in heroes to protect the innocent died at the hands of a monster. A monster that his father couldn’t chase away.

The RedHood was risen from the pits and unleashed upon the evil of Gotham.

He was 18 years old.

******************************

Months of their back and forth dynamic between RedHood and Batman passed. The Batman couldn’t arrest the RedHood but the RedHood couldn’t stop tweaking his cape to get a reaction.

Didn’t he care? Wasn’t he going to stop him? He was doing everything wrong so why wouldn’t Bruce do the same for him that he did for all the other criminals in Gotham?

It was when Jason had the Joker at the business end of a gun that he got his answers.

“Don’t do it Hood,” Bruce pleaded. “It will change you beyond what you can come back from if you do.”

“I’ve already killed, B,” his words caught as he gasped, fighting back tears of rage. “My hands are dripping in blood.

He laughed madly then, “‘Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’ Who knew that bitch knew what she was talking about.”

“It’s the madness that’s done it Hood. You’ve barely held control before. But you’re fighting the killing urge and directing it to those that do deserve it.”

“And yes,” he interrupted before Jason could argue, “no one deserves it more than Joker for what he’s done to you. But if you do it then the madness will win. Please I can’t lose my son again,” he begged.

“WHY DOES THAT MATTER NOW?!” Jason screamed. “He killed me. I was dead in the ground and you let him walk. WHY COULDN’T YOU KILL HIM?! AM I THAT MEANINGLESS TO YOU!?!!”

“I COULDN’T!” Bruce yelled back. “If I killed him I wouldn’t be able to stop killing. It wouldn’t just be the Joker that died, it would be every criminal in Gotham who dared step out of line. I wanted to. I still want to. He took my son from me but I know that once I start I won’t be able to stop. I’m sorry that I’m so weak, but I couldn’t.”

The Batman, no Bruce Wayne, stood before him, head bowed in defeat as he admitted to his greatest shame.

Jason looked away before dropping the gun and walking away. He knew Bruce would take the Joker back to Arkham so he just needed to get away and think.

**

They worked to build their relationships anew. He couldn’t be the son Bruce remembered anymore, too much had changed, but he could be the son he was today. He could do what he could for the Replacement and make sure the kid didn’t get himself killed on the streets. The girl that joined them got the same measure of protection though she was better able to defend herself.

When he finally let go of thoughts of revenge he could think about a time when a stray spark of living Sunshine found its way to cold, grey Gotham. He finally looked up news of Marinette to see how she was doing. He broke down and cried when her wedding announcement to the son of a Parisian fashion house was the first thing to pop up.

Selina, Bruce and Alfred all encouraged him to take a trip to France anyways to get some closure, to say goodbye. But he refused, the smile in her eyes as she looked at her new husband in the picture convinced him that she was happy. And that was all he ever wanted for her, even if it couldn’t be him giving the her the world.

He was 19 years old when he made peace with his past.

****************************

He was 20 years old when news of the villain Hawkmoth and his defeat hit the international press. He was livid to realize that his beloved Nettie had been in so much danger just living in a city that should have been safe. That the Justice League had done nothing when the citizens pleaded for help.

It felt like the period after his revival in the pit as he stormed the halls of the WatchTower. His vision was in various shades of red and his thoughts just kept turning back to how Marinette might have been killed in one of the villain’s monster attacks. Hell, she probably did die once or twice only to be revived by the hero’s magic.

If he ever got to meet LadyBug he would shower her in appreciation for defending the city his Nettie lived in.

The door crashed and nearly fell off the hinges when he threw it open and stormed through into the Leagues council room.

“RedHood,” Batman said calmly as he stalked up to the table.

Slamming his hands down and leaning over the collected heroes he asked what he’d wanted to since the news broke.

“Who. Screwed. Up?”

“When footage of the attacks first reached the League, investigations were done. No lasting damage was left from the attacks so it was written off as a publicity stunt and subsequent messages were ignored,” Batman explained. “It was a phone operator that fielded these calls. They went based off the assessment done by the League and deleted them.”

“She could have died B. I was dead and couldn’t do anything but you should have been keeping an eye on her. You know what she means to me.”

Batman nodded, “I should have. The messages never reached me but I should have been keeping a watch on her regardless of that.”

“You’re going to make amends to those heroes for ignoring them,” Jason stated. “All of you are,” he added, including the other heroes in the room in his statement.

“Yes,” Batman agreed.

Jason jerked his head in a nod and left the room. Going back to the cave where he can do his own check and make sure Marinette was safe.

********************************

It wasn’t just the League that failed Marinette. Jason knew he was as much to blame. If he had gone to Paris? If he had seen her? If he had told her he was alive? Would she have suffered under Hawkmoth? If, if, if.

News of the divorce of up and coming fashion designer MDC and the son of the fashion mogul and former villain Adrian Agreste hit airwaves like lightning. In the beginning people claimed it was Marinette who left because of Hawkmoth’s identity. Adrian was fast to shut that down and own that he was the one to ask for the divorce for personal reasons. With what seemed to be an amicable break up the world turned its attention to the next sound bite.

He’d failed her again. Jason just sat by his empty grave as he cried when he learns about it. He argues with Alfred and Selina when they bring up him visiting Paris afterwards. This time Bruce supports his decision. He doesn’t approve and lets Jason know it, but he supports him.

Returning to the cave after patrol, Jason was the last to arrive. He didn’t know why everyone was gathered by the computer so he went to take a look. He didn’t hear what Alfred said as he walked over. Momentarily blinded by the helmet as he removed it, he froze when he finally saw what, no who, had his family’s attention.

She had grown since their first meeting, not in height but in maturity. She had traded the fun pigtails for an elegant braid, and jeans for a sundress obviously of her own design.

“Hi, Monsieur Alfred introduced the others but I haven’t gotten your name yet. I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she introduces herself as if she were meeting a stranger for the first time.

It hurt his heart that she would do that with him, though he realizes why she did. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know that it was him under the mask.

The words wouldn’t come though when he tried to find them and tell her. He finally settled for showing her, hoping she would believe her eyes.

After she gasped in reaction to his reveal he thought maybe his approach was a bit boneheaded after all. Nothing to do but go forward from there though.

“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive.”

Marinette teared up but instead of breaking down and crying she ran to him and jumped into his arms. Burying her face in his neck she just murmured “You’re alive” over and over.

“Yeah,” he admitted. He held her as tightly as he dared. A little worried he might hurt her by accident.

When she pulled away he reluctantly let her go but it was worth it.

She gave him the biggest smile and he saw it again.

He was 21 years old and the sun was shining in cold, grey Gotham once more.

————————————

So I really got into the structure I used for the first chapter and exuded to use the same for this one. They end at different ages because Jason’s a few months older and this happened in that in between time (the real reason is sections were getting too busy so I add another year to his story. How do I rationalize it? Well birthdays are a thing so there you go).

I hope everyone enjoyed this wild ride. I do plan to do an epilogue chapter but that will have to wait until next weekend. Anyone have any ideas you can send it to me.

@pepelachanel @mellownieice @kris-pines04 @zebrabaker @two-faced-biatch @vixen-uchiha @mandy984 @shamefullove @mycupisbroken @dawnwave16 @abrx2002 @mochinek0 @tbehartoo @fertileleaf @thanks-captain-obvious @ravennightingaleandavatempus @hinata3487 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @zalladane @dast218 @miraculous786 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @mooshoon @ladybug182 @iggy-of-fans @legendaryneckjudgestudent @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @finallyaniguana @tog84 @mystery-5-5 @evil-elf16

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

This is something a bit different from me, but in light of the recent announcement from Ubisoft that there’s going to be a remake of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time coming out in January 2021, I thought I’d share some thoughts.

(This started out small but got outta hand so super long post incoming, no spoilers for the games)

So first off, a bit of my history with the original game.

 I’m a big fan of the Prince of Persia (PoP) franchise, and I’ll fully admit that nostalgia plays a big part in it. You see, in many ways this 2003 classic was my real entryway drug into the world of videogames.

It wasn’t the first videogame I had ever played. My friends had consoles, there were some games on the school computers, but I didn’t own games as a kid. As far as my parents were concerned, these were all the spoils and soul damning devices of Lucifer himself. You know how it is, every generation goes through this thing of blaming all the world’s problems on a new artform: rock and roll, comic books and then videogames.

So yeah, a gaming console or buying games for the home computer was a BIG NO-NO! 

But of course, the more an authority figure says you can’t have something, the more you want and crave it. It was only a matter of time until the opportunity presented itself to me.

And then the day finally came.

It was just me and a couple of friends, going to this new magazine store near the school. And there it was: the dvd case that came with a gaming mag for like 5 euros if I remember correctly, stupid cheap for such a great game. 

There was doubt, there was fear, there was anxiety. I didn’t know much about the game, only the old 1989 DOS Prince of Persia:

This had the same name but looked different. I was seduced immediately.

The case stared longingly at me:

 It’s not my fault, I was bewitched and I bought it.

My symbol of rebellion, my first big transgression, and my first real treasured posession that I bought with hard earned money.

PoP:The Sands of Time was my original sin so to say:

Accurate representation of what happened that day

I furiously installed the game as soon as my parents left the house. Played it for a couple of hours and stood in awe at the thing - the cinematics, the cool parkour moves, the arabian nights setting, the time manipulation to undo mistakes when platforming or in combat, the Prince breaking the fourth wall saying:”no no no, that’s not what happened, let me start over” whenever I died and got a game over…

You have not experienced true fear if at some point in your life you didn’t feel the cold sweat running down your back as you hear the very distinct sound of your parents’ car arriving when you’re doing something “prohibited”.

 As soon as I heard that sound, I quickly quit the game, uninstaled it (I could not run the risk of them finding out I had tainted their machine with a videogame *gasp!*), and ran to my room to hide the game before opening the door for them. 

Neetheless to say, I never made much progress since I had to start over every time after quitting and uninstalling the thing. I would just play those first couple of hours over and over, never knowing how the story progressed, but I was happy all the same. At one point I knew every line of dialogue, every music cue, every sound effect of that beginning part. It would be some years before I got my first laptop and finally managed to complete it. 

All of this to say that the game means a lot to me. Not just as a product or piece of entertainment. This wasn’t casually playing on someone’s gameboy advance or PS2 to have a bit of fun and pass the time.

 This was more intimate.

 It was just me; the game; a dark room and a blanket; and a sincere and charming, simple but compelling story told seamlessly through mechanics that only enhanced it. This was me witnessing gameplay and storytelling going hand in hand in a way that even many of my other favourite games don’t do, or don’t do as well (there’s usually some disconnect where a game only manages to really excel at one but not the other).

Ok, so on the announcement and trailer:

As a big fan you might think I was super hyped for this. 

But I gotta say…no, not really.

I’m not super angry, but I’m not really excited either honestly. And I don’t think it’s just the rough and uncanny character models and animation that people are pointing out all over (although that doesn’t help).

I guess to talk a bit on that, I should stress out that my problem isn’t that it doesn’t look realistic enough. To be honest, and this is going to sound rich from a big Witcher 3 fan, I think that the gaming industry overall, moreso big tripple A titles, seem to have this unhealthy obsession with photorealism. Like, I don’t need to see the characters’s pores to care about these polygon people. Strong art direction is what I feel is more valuable. I just don’t think this arms race to photorealism is sustainable. Games are taking longer to make and fund, and I’d rather have dev teams spend more time polishing and refining the games’ mechanics and/or story if the trade-off is less “realistic” graphics.  

It might just be personal preference, but I wish we were getting more stylized character and world design. Go look at some screenshots for Pathologic 2, a game that came out last year that hits that sweet spot between full-blown cartoony/caricature and realistic by today’s standards:

And I think that is somewhat what they were going for with this remake’s character models (or I hope it was). But it’s still not quite there, hopefully they’ll work on improving those so they can hit that sweet spot also.

(in defense of my hipocrisy and love of The Witcher 3, I think the more realistic look was appropriate for the world they were portraying, it benefits from it. However I don’t think I would love it any less if it had less detailed models and environments)

One last thing on the graphics.

I will say this though, at least from the footage we see in the new trailer the team seems to be capitalizing on colour. Big vibrant reds, blues, whites and yellows in the environment look great, and really captures the 1.001 nights/arabian nights feel that I absolutely love. I appreciate that since there’s always this tendency for remakes to suck all the colour and life from the original (in both games and movies), regardless if it fits the setting and tone or not.

Anyway, I think the reason I’m very much without a big reaction is that I believe the 2003 original is a true classic, a masterpiece even - I guess I should stress out that when I say masterpiece, I don’t mean it’s perfect. Just that the whole is bigger and better than the sum of its parts, that the things it does right, it does so right, that it completely overshadows the flaws. 

The story, the art direction, the gameplay (the holy trinity of platforming, combat and puzzle solving), the brilliant introduction of the dagger of time as a gameplay and story mechanic (one of my favourite mechanics in all of gaming), the music, the charming duo that is the Prince and Farah, the tight pacing with the game being just the right length and not overstaying its welcome, the outstanding level design where you’re never stuck doing one thing for too long (the game is always juggling between combat, story, platforming and puzzles, mixing and matching)… 

Looking at all these things, I just really don’t think we need a remake because I don’t think there’s that many glaring terrible flaws that could justify it. 

Adding more scenes and content could be good, or it might backfire: bloat and ruin the game’s already excelent pacing and fluidity (which I think is the main keyword that better describes the original, everything flows superbly). The original was only 6-8 hours long and it is better for it. I’m not confident that adding dozens of hours of gameplay like the big tittles today would help at all.

The only real improvements I can see are: 

tweeking and perfecting the combat (I’ve seen it mentioned that they’re implementing a targeting system which sounds good); 

perhaps also better Farah’s A.I during combat when you have to help protect her from swarms of enemies;

Maybe throw in a couple more enemy types? The cut sand tigers for example? 

usual things like adding the option of subtitles, add the ability to skip cutescenes;

But other than that…

I don’t even think the graphics of the original look bad. They’ve aged of course, with the game being 17 years old, but still. I installed it last night and played through the first hour to take some screenshots and I think they’re still good:

I can understand the MediEvil remaster, the Spyro remaster or the more recent FFVII remake in terms of wanting to update the graphics. I can understand that not everyone can easily go back to these low poly lads:

 But this game? I know I’m influenced by nostalgia and all, but I don’t think it needs that makeover that badly, especially when compared to these other remakes and remasters. Funnily enough, I just noticed that these examples I just listed were all PS1 games. PoP: SoT was a PS2 , PC and Xbox game. PS2 era games have aged far better visually and don’t need that big a makeover in my most humble opinion.

It would be one thing if the original was out of print like a Rule of Rose scenario ,where you can’t find the game unless you go to ebay or something and it’s stupid expensive. Or if it was a pain to get running on modern systems like it was with Grim Fandango, until it got a remaster. 

But no, you can find the Sands of Time trilogy and the PoP (2008) reboot on GOG and Steam (on Steam only there’s also the PoP:The Forgotten Sands midquel). So there isn’t the usual problem of the game no longer being accessible to people who want to play it, which helps justify the need for a remake.

The original still plays nice, sounds nice and looks nice, so I guess this all goes to show that at the end of the day, this remake just feels a bit unnecessary to me, at least from what little the trailer showed (I would love to have my bitter cynical ass proved wrong though!). 

 Maybe I just have a superhuman tolerance for older games and how they look, I really don’t have that big a problem if the game itself is good or interesting, so I don’t always think older games need remakes.

Maybe my falling out of love with Ubisoft in this last decade has curbed forever any hype I might have for their announcements, even when they pull out my  son, my baby boy Prince of Persia out again.

 Maybe I’m just burnt out and too pessimistic about remakes, remasters and adaptations (although game remakes usually do better than film ones).

And this makes me a bit sad because I don’t want to sh*t all over the first piece of “new”  Prince of Persia content we’ve had since 2010??? Oof, it’s been a while.

Especially knowing that Yuri Lowenthal is coming back and excited to voice the Prince again. And I also don’t want to be too harsh since we’re looking at an alpha of the game. But so far I’m just very numb to this, I do seriously hope it turns out good and that they don’t rush it out the door. But I’m not convinced we need a remake in the first place. The original is a milestone, a game changer. I’d rather see a game that had great ideas and poor execution being remade than something people already love and consider a masterpiece.

 Guess we’ll see how I feel once more news and footage come out.

Oh and feel free to share your own thoughts on this remake. I’m curious to know what both fans and newcomers alike think.

small edit: I can’t believe I was just watching this Sands of Time playthrough on youtube and at one point it is said: “Another game that is designed similarly to this is Soul Reaver actually.” 

Of course! I didn’t even see it! All of my favourite things are connected!!! Maybe that detail was another thing that helped me getting really into Soul Reaver as I was first playing it.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

two | hard to forget | adam page

↱ authors notes: ↲

Ahhh okay. Here we go. This is going to pick up where Darlin left off, give or take a few days so… if you haven’t read that, you might want to stop everything and go click on the link above and do that.If you think things are getting even SLIGHTLY happier here well... I have some bad news for you. We’re in the angst zone here. We will be for a little longer. So yeah. There’s that.

I am planning on throwing them into an interaction soon, I promise. Just for a little while, it’s gotta stay this way bc they’re both balls of anxiety and stress.

↱ pairing ↲

adam hangman page x ofc! rosalie.

↱ summary↲

Adam and Rosalie shared a night together. A night that neither one of them can forget and yet, neither one of them seem to be able to talk to the other about. Between their own personal issues, backstage gossip and other awkwardness, will they eventually find their way together?

↱ warnings↲

I switch back and forth between first and third person (first=rosalie and third=hangman) and I realize that can be jarring for some, so I thought I’d warn you about that now… Now on to the actual warnings you need to be aware of…slow burn. angst. two stubborn fucking people both going through their own issues. alcohol mentions. probably smut at some point, idk. for now, that’s all I got. OFC has self worth issues and anxiety. FWIW. No, they won’t magically be fixed by the end of this. If you’re here for that, it won’t happen. They won’t dissolve just because the story takes a turn. This shit is something I struggle with, so all of this emotional baggage/etc is being written the way I personally experience it. Everyone’s experiences are different and I realize that. Anyway... That’s all for the warnings.

↱ tag squad↲

If you want to be tagged in my writing, go add your @ to this doc here. If you’re not on there / haven’t told me you want to be tagged, you’re not getting tagged.

@kyleoreillysknee​

@rampagewriting​

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@sassymox​

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@wrestlingthot​

↱ other stuff ↲

[ tag list doc | masterlist | soundtrack to this fic | about page ]

                                                      TWO        

[ Hangman ]

He sat at the bar, staring down into the whiskey glass in front of him. He couldn’t stop going back to what Kenny’s response was earlier. He couldn’t get his head around just how easily it was for Kenny to turn his back on their tag team partnership and yet, if he really thought long and hard about it, he couldn’t blame him either. Taking another long sip of whiskey, Adam sat the glass down on the bartop, his head resting against his hand.

Downtime couldn’t come fast enough this time around. He needed time and space to think. To figure things out. His mind was still frantically holding out hope that there had to be a way to fix the situations he currently found himself in. Both of them.

Because there had to be a way to get Rosalie alone and talk to her. He needed to know if his head or his heart or all the rumors that seemed to be swirling around the back this week were right. He needed some sort of confirmation to move on and try to put what happened between them and his feelings out of his head or not.

At the thought, he found himself scanning the crowded bar, searching for any sign of Rosalie. He spotted her across the bar, crammed into a booth with Sonny Kiss, Swole and Thunder Rosa, her head back in mid-laugh. When the guy in the leather jacket walked past their table and looked her up and down, his breath caught and he knew that it was better if he turned around but for whatever reason, he couldn’t.

He felt the briefest relief when she didn’t even bother looking at the man in the leather jacket, choosing instead to focus on the bottle of tequila in front of her that she was apparently drinking straight from.

He eyed the situation carefully, trying to gauge her current mood. Trying to prove to himself that hooking up with him had been a one-time thing and no, she wasn’t currently beating herself up or losing her mind over what happened like he was lately on top of everything else.

,, People are sayin that night is just somethin’ she does. And I don’t wanna believe that because somethin about it don’t seem right, but it’s not like she’s in a hurry to talk about what happened between us either…” Adam thought to himself, scowling and promptly trying to vanquish the thought from his head by pouring himself another measure of whiskey from the bottle sitting in front of him into his glass.

The older country that had been playing on a jukebox towards the back switched to Five Finger Death Punch and he grumbled to himself, right up to the point in which he saw Rosalie slinking back from the area, the bottle in her hand and a smirk in her face. When she climbed over the back of the booth seat to settle back between Swole and Rosa, he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “How the hell does she listen to this shit?”

By the fourth round, he nearly had himself convinced to just walk over and talk to her. He kept telling himself he’d do it when her friends left. Then her friends left and he sat there, hesitantly perched on the edge of his stool.

From beside him, MJF spoke up, a taunting laugh as he did so. “Crashed and burned already, hm? From talk backstage, you two were going to be the next it couple. But like usual, you can’t help yourself. You just like to watch the world burn.”

Adam’s fists clenched and he glared at MJF. Then he remembered some of the guy’s past exchanges with her and he rubbed his chin, chuckling quietly. He’d overlook all the other stuff the asshole said that hit a little too head on at the moment.. About him being incapable of just being happy until the world was burning all around him. He chose instead to focus on the fact that obviously, if the guy was sitting here next to him, then the guy hadn’t made all the progress he told anyone in back who would listen that he was making with Rosalie.

“Aw, she shoot you down again, little boy?”

“She’s a teasing bitch. But no. In fact..” Maxwell waved over a bartender and ordered himself a glass of bourbon, “I think I might have figured out a way to break down those so called walls she has. I mean.. I figure as long as I’m not you and I don’t do whatever you apparently did, I have a shot, right?”

Adam leaned in to Maxwell in the blink of an eye. Maxwell gaped as Adam gripped his shirt front and flashed a mean smirk. “Go ahead, little boy. Go right ahead. But I promise you. I swear. If you do one thing to hurt her, I’m gonna kick your damn head off.” 

He let go and settled completely back on the stool, the two men having an intent staredown until Adam tossed wadded cash on the top of the bar and shoved his way out. He needed to get to the sanctuary of his own hotel room.

He needed to think. There had to be some way to fix everything. There had to be. He stubbornly refused to believe there wasn’t. He’d been through worse with the guys before. They were okay.

,, maybe this time you pushed too far, man. And if you don’t do something about the other now, it’s going to eat at you too… But that’s the catch 22… Doing somethin means you might get an answer you don’t wanna hear...that you might not be able to handle right now.” the thought was an unsettling one and it had him punching the wall by the elevator lightly. 

[ ROSALIE ]

“Girl, the man was staring a hole right through you. How much more proof do you need?”

Rosa’s question had me pausing, leaning against the hallway wall as I raised the bottle to my lips and shrugged. Swallowing the tequila, I grimaced at the lazy burn when it crept down my throat. It wasn’t Tito’s, but tonight it would have to suffice. I mulled over what she said. I knew he’d been watching me. I could feel him staring. The thing of it was, every time I got the idea in my head to get up and walk over, I remembered the current rumors going around about me backstage. And I remembered that I have a tendency to make a mess of everything I touch according to most. Or that I’m not and never will be good enough, according to others.

Yeah, maybe it’s stupid, but… Maybe this is just one of those things that’s better left untouched. Besides, the guy probably thinks I’m a whore now, I mean… I’ve heard the rumors. I’ve heard them and if I didn’t know myself better? I’d think I was a whore.

Pretty sure Maxwell’s been stirring around in shit because I won’t just crawl into bed with him. He wants me to have no other option. And if he thinks even remotely I won’t just die alone before letting it, he’s a goddamn fool.

“It’s not that easy, Rosa.” I finally answered, taking another long pull from the bottle in my hand. Letting my head rest against the wall. I was dizzy and tipsy and yet... I wasn’t numb. I hadn’t magically forgotten everything that’s always on my mind and any of the newest invasive thoughts that had cropped up lately either. 

Brains should come with an on/off reset feature. You don’t like your mind one day? Reset button. It’d be one hell of a lot easier than being stuck with all the doubt and loathing and irrational fears and invasive thoughts.

“It is! All you have to do is walk over, sit down and talk to the guy.” Rosa insisted.

I eyed her and laughed. “After the shit Maxwell’s been saying this week? I don’t see that going well. He probably believes it all like everyone else. I mean hey… The upside of this whole shit-show is that if I get lonely, I have plenty of offers. Only for one night because naturally..” I trailed off, shaking my head. No, nope.. I was going to bind my legs if I had to. Not even going to consider meeting a guy at a bar and taking him back to my room anymore because whew boy... Did this whole rumor going around about me really make me stop and think. And I didn’t want to be seen as that kind of girl. ,, even though there’s not a goddamn thing wrong with enjoying life and you don’t owe anyone a goddamn thing. christ, you’re pathetic. a real dumpster fire, rosalie.”  the thought came and I shoved it out, wincing at it’s invasive brutality.

“But none of them are the one you want. God, you’re so fucking stubborn.” Rosa grumbled, the back of her head hitting the wall behind us lightly as she sank down to sit beside me. I laughed a little and I couldn’t tell whether it was the tequila in my hands or the absurdity of this entire situation that would literally be so much easier if I were anyone but me right now. If I had better confidence. If I dared to believe or hope that I could have a great guy that I truly loved without that guy merely settling because I was there and made myself available like I used to all the time.

Like I did that one night I had Adam Page. It had been so easy to fall back into old habits, natural as breathing. That in itself had me terrified.

“I picked one hell of a year to quit smoking.” I groaned quietly, letting my head butt back against the wall as I laughed and sat there, trying to imagine every single scenario that might arise if I did just talk to him about that night.

But when all your mind will cook up are the bad ones. The absolute worst of the worst. You see my problem, yes?

I couldn’t be the first to say something. I knew for a fact I couldn’t take hearing him casually dismiss our night as a one-time thing. I couldn’t take him saying what I’ve heard so much now that it’s ingrained in me deep and keeps me doubting myself at least eighty-five percent of the time. I couldn’t take a risk and have him turn out to be just like the rest.

But I knew at the same time that sooner or later... somehow.. I was going to crack. Because as much as I feared the worst, I couldn’t keep sitting on any of this either.

[vore-scientist]

Not So Bad

(Safe/soft semi-willing GT vore with M/multiple prey of multiple genders, kinda stuffing)

Very silly vore story with lots of silly wizards. 

A Mystic Woods Unlimited Story: MWU is a way for me to write silly Alternate Universe stories for Mystic Woods, by not abiding by the rules of the canon universe. Mostly making safe vore easier so I can write more fun and silly safe vore. 

Plot Summary: The Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh is a frequent guest lecturer at The Academy of Wizardry (the premier wizard college), and of course, has fun (for him) method of disciplining students. But in this story, the students test his limits >:3c

---

Yonah lay against the cool cave wall, one arm behind His back, the other across his supremely full stomach. Palm laying flat over the 6 struggling students he just ate. He even recognized the taste of repeat offenders. 

They weren’t struggling against him, well they were, but in a rather futile attempt to get comfortable. They all had detention for disrupting his lecture and they knew that meant a trip into his stomach. So they were making the best of it. Not an easy thing to do with six of them. 

Normally it was just one or two students and on different days. But today… today had been different. 

——

“Getting full, Professor?”

A student in the second row asked, as Yonah hiccuped after swallowing Chava, the fourth student in 30 minutes… his stomach was pushing at the buttons on his vest, which he undid. Another awkward moment to add to the collection. 

ugh yeah he was getting full. But he couldn’t let them win. He didn’t know what they were up to but With four conspirators in his stomach he And at least 5 others, “humiliate him by making him throw up” was highly probable. Wait not 5, he had based his count on the whispering his keen hearing picked up. 5 distinct voices, none of which had been Kalan. Six! Shit! 

“I don’t *HIC* see how that’s relevant to the lesson, Kalan, so unless you want to become part of this feast” he pointed at his stomach, “I isuggest you *HIC*, you keep your comments to yourself.” 

Red faced from hiccuping in front of the rest of the uneaten class, he turned back to the blackboard but kept his head at an angle to hear the class. The troublemakers were using message spells to talk, unaware Yonah could hear them and sense the magic. Or maybe they were aware. He noted where each sat, and tried to focus on their voices to put them to names. 

It was hard to concentrate with the four currently in his belly and a lesson to give! Keeping his mind on equations when there was So much movement… he put a hand over his middle and pushed them around a bit. 

“You’d better be paying attention in there! I know you can hear me. There will be a quiz and you’re not off the hook just because I ate you! Get the notes from your classmates.”

There was a resigned grumble from his occupants. 

“And as for you,” he turned as a streak of magic was released. He caught it before it hit the chalk board. Opening his hand he found the illusion that would have appeared around him. 

Several sparkling red arrows and a crude drawing of his face with wide opened fanged mouth. The accompanying words said “rawr feed me”. 

“Cute,” he mused before shaking it away. In all honesty he was relieved, it could have easily been something vulgar or derogatory towards him. “Big Dumb Giant” for example, which he would have reported. And he’d hate to think there was a culture of bigotry festering among the student body. “You will, by the way,” looking towards the student who cast the spell, “you and the rest of your tasty little friends,” he shifted his now glowing gaze to meet the eyes of the other students who froze, having believed themselves safe, “come talk to me after class,” he returned to the lesson, which proceeded with little more incident. 

Finally class ended and all but six students quickly made themselves scarce. Six students. Six morsels that he was very much looking forward to eating. After dinner, which was in about an hour. Though judging by their nervousness they thought he was going to eat them now. Three of them were failing to avoid looking at his still full stomach, two were mentally preparing themselves for the ordeal, and Kalan was standing defiant, arms crossed, but their eyes were twitchy, fingers digging into their arms. Even knowing one would be fine, it sure was terrifying, being eaten alive. 

He opened his mouth but it was one of his occupants who spoke. 

“Come on!! Let us out!!” a standarddemand, they heard the bell, they knew class was over. 

The statement was accompanied by a lot more movement, a great deal visible, which Yonah watched with amusement, causing his stomach to shake as he produced a deep evil chuck, and the 6 uneaten students shook with apprehension. Before anyone else could speak up Yonah stroked his middle.

“So impatient, you aren’t dying in there,” there were a few more protests but eventually they settled down. 

“Back to the matter at hand,” he looked at the six with flash of fire in his eyes and a lick of his lips, “Our rendezvous will have to be tonight, come to Xharem’s office, be there by Silence.” 

There was no curfew at the academy, students were expected to manage their own schedules. However, “Silence” was the unofficial term for the time of night when students were to keep noise to a minimum in the living quarters. About 10pm.. It’s wasn’t exact either… it was just an expected courtesy. 

“Failure to show up will result in detention being carried out during each class until test day” that was something he just thought up. Tomorrow not counting, as it was a Third Day, no classes. 

“You can’t be serious,” Kalan gave him a rather nasty look. 

“I’m always serious when it comes to snacking,” he said, patting his stomach as he smiled at Kalan, who did not break. The students inside were on the edge of losing their minds. 

“Speaking of, it’s time I pardon my current guests. So run along, I look forward to seeing you all again soon.”

Five were out of sight in a moment, but Kalan rolled their eyes and walked away, glancing back until turning a corner. 

Yonah stood up and stretched, sucking in his gut to squish his captives, before heading to Xarem’s caves. He absentmindedly hummed an old nursery rhyme. 

“So… are you gonna throw up or what! Some of us want to wash up before dinner!” 

That was… Maya? Yeah. He didn’t say anything, just kept walking. 

“The rest of us are done being dinner!” 

Yonah sighed, “I don’t want to spit you all up in the courtyard.”

“The fuck! You’ve done it before!”

“With one person, not 4 of you! It’s gonna be… unpleasant… if you thought it was gross before…eheh” that wasn’t an amused laugh. 

They shifted with concern. Why should it be any more gross?!

He passed another professor who eyed his middle. Of course they had to comment. They always do. 

“I would think an evil giant could have more control over a class if he so wished.”

This was Better than them critiquing his punishment methods! 

“Why ever would I wish for that?”

The professor's eyes narrowed, “indeed, why…” 

“Aidan!!! Get us out of here!!” 

Though The students couldn’t see, Aidan still raised an eyebrow, and motioned for Yonah to squat down. 

“Is that you Ian? I expected better from you.”

Ah! It was Ian Bloom, of course, he and Professor Aidan Bloom were cousins. Professor Bloom poked Yonah in the stomach right where Ian Bloom was presumably making a noticeable little bulge. 

“Next time don’t antagonize a giant!”

Yonah smiled but his knees were hurting so he stood up and bid Bloom goodbye and got to the caves uninterrupted. He filled a bucket with water and stuck his hands in, running heat out of them. 

“Alright you little shits, I’m getting you out, don’t fight it or each other,” he instructed and knelt by the bucket before making his hands into a fist and pressing into his gut. 

What Had he JUST SAID! He could tell they were scrambling to be the first released, even as he heaved And hacked like a foolish first year drunk at his first party. 

Not that He’d ever gotten drunk at school parties. No matter how much he drank he never got more than barely buzzed. Just couldn’t physically consume enough alcohol while reduced. Even if he could have been his own size there wasn’t enough alcohol at said parties to get him drunk. 

The first student slid out of his mouth and splashed into the warm water. 

He barely had time to catch his breath before his airways got blocked by the second squirming mass.

After this one he had to recover. He sat down by the bucket, monitoring the sulking students who had both submerged themselves to their noses. Chava and Ertza. They shot him dirty looks which he smiled sweetly at. Then he leaned over the bucket again to get the last two out, Ian and Maya. 

Gods that was an effort. There is only so much vomiting one can do with an effectively empty stomach before bile enters the picture. He knew it was coming as Maya and Ian started screaming in desperate, fearful confusion, pleading for freedom. They didn’t know that the viscous, dark yellow, noxious bitter bile was otherwise harmless. 

And Chava and Ertza didn’t know what was making their friends so scared. They demanded answers; Chava even threatened with telling the administration. Yonah held a hand up to try and convey that they should just sit tight. But they still shrieked as the first glob of bile fell into the bucket ahead of Ian who was coated in a thick layer. 

He had to take another break. Maya was still crying but was calming down from the initial shock. 

“I told you, it’s gross,” he spat, fetching the soap for Ian and lying down, gently stroking at the last human in his stomach. “The bile won’t hurt you, Maya, I’ll get you out soon.”

His face was red and felt inflated, his throat was so sore, his jaw was sore. The only thing he could smell was bile and he was sure he had nearly passed out. It was almost enough to make him reconsider his punitive methods. 

Not really. 

Looking to the bucket he saw Chava with her arms folded over the edge. Now she was smiling at him. 

“Why do you do this to yourself? Is it worth it? Do we really taste that good?”

Yonah looked not so innocently up at the ceiling. 

“Yes,” he chuckled, glancing at Chava to see her roll her eyes, “and there is nothing quite like a belly full of squirming smallfolk.”

“That’s too much information!” Ian said as he pulled off his robes. The bile had not penetrated far into his undersilks. 

“No such thing in our line of work,” Yonah said, coughing and sitting up again. 

“Ready Maya?”

“IVE BEEN READY YOU FUCK-“ he didn’t let her finish her retort before heaving so powerfully that she was practically shot back into his throat. 

They waited awkwardly for Maya to splash down and to get her out of her robes and a large piece of soap. 

“Take your time,” Yonah told them. He left to get some cleaner water, “but don’t leave,” 

Once he got back they finished getting clean and dried off. They had even used spells to clean their robes. Now they Waited to be dismissed but he wasn’t done with them.

Not just yet. 

He adjusted to sitting criss cross.��

“The rest of your little group will be stopping by tonight,”

“Yes we heard…”

“I want to know what your goals were with this little stunt. The only thing I can think of is to make me look more foolish the more of you I ate as class progressed,” he was painfully aware of how silly it looked when he ate more than 2 humans. “Or make me barf in front of the rest of the class.” 

The students exchanged worried glances. 

“Unless your answer is something truly heinous, I won’t eat you again. Just know that I don’t appreciate being humiliated, even if it gives me an excuse to eat you.”

“It was just an experiment,” Chava said, fully prepared to be the one eaten again, “to see how many of us you would eat in one class period.”

She braced herself to be suddenly picked up shoved back into the giant’s mouth. Opening one eye she saw her teacher’s sly smile. 

“An experiment? That’s adorable. I wish you would have told me, I would have had no objections to such a test. Or even playing along. I guess the answer is four. I don’t know if that’s a satisfactory result, but I hope it was worth the methods to get it.”

“Sir, If I may ask,” Ertza spoke up, and continued when Yonah nodded, “you intend to um… eat the other six tonight… all at once I presume?”

“Yes,” said Yonah, and Ertza had to gather his wits again. 

“Why did you stop at four in class?” 

Because he had stopped at four. Shooting magic at him should have gotten Amiya eaten!

“Do you really want that answer?” He asked.

“Just because you asked that I am suddenly not sure… but it was the purpose of the experiment.”

“I do! I bet six was your limit!” Said Maya. “Kalan said I was crazy!” 

“Oh? Well you’re correct, five to seven humans, depending on their size,” Maya looked regretfully proud at this statement, “but I had a class to teach, the more I eat the harder it is to think,” he explained how overeating affects giants, making them drowsy, almost drunk. They were a bit put off by the biology lesson but couldn't resist being fascinated in that way wizard’s are. 

“It’s not debilitating, it’s not gonna make me pass out unless I let it , but it would make recalling and conveying information about transdimensional light structures of illusions impossible.” 

He stood up, “Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry, I know I feel pretty empty.”

Stepping by them he opened the large door on the other side of the cave, holding it open while they realized they were free to go. 

Of course they were all going in the same direction. In an ideal world he would continue And leave them behind; if he were polite and thoughtful, he would let them get ahead of him. Just let them get away from him. 

But he was neither of those things. He was evil. He shrank down to keep pace. 

The fog of discomfort was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife, and Yonah basked in it. Making horrendous small talk that they were forced to engage in as to snub him would result in additional punishment. These humans had made teaching extremely embarrassing. He was merely returning the favor. 

“I wonder what’s on the menu tonight, besides the rest of your friends,” he mused as the humans sped-walked to keep up.

“It’s somehow weirder when he says these things when our size!” Maya hissed to Chava.

“Isn’t it just!” Yonah responded, “almost as weird as full grown adults pulling pranks they know will get them eaten.” 

It was always worth reminding the students that they weren’t children. In fact Ian was older than him, and Chava only a year younger. There was no wrong age to apply to the academy. though most did so when between 18 and 21, some students were in their 30s or 40s! Yonah was only 25! And since his lectures were usually brief seminars into topics such as “advanced light physics for more robust illusions”, they weren’t attended by first year students. 

It was always fun to watch their faces when they realized he could hear their whispers. And kinda of disheartening since most of them had definitely attended his lectures on giants. 

When they arrived at the mess hall Yonah took his spot next to Xharem, the dragon professor. She was laying down but sat up to make room for the half-giant who returned to his normal size. Xharem rubbed her face on his arm as a formal greeting, and as a way to signal it was permissible for him to sit down as well. 

She was already eating. Two thirds of a roasted cow made into a stew with all sorts of vegetables, rice, and spiced to perfection. The other third had of course been used for Yonah’s meal, which was brought out still piping hot.  

Meaning no disrespect to the kitchen staff, Yonah got out a jar of reaper pepper powder and mixed in a more than generous pinch. He offered some to Xharem as well. 

“I- have detentions tonight, unless you have objections. The students were unusually rowdy today.” 

“As long as they don’t make too much noise,” she said, “And what do you mean ‘rowdy’?”

Yonah explained and the dragon burst out laughing when he told them they were doing this on purpose. 

Of course that got the rest of the hall’s attention, and they waited until everyone went back to their own conversations before continuing. 

“If you’d told me years ago that the students would be trying to get eaten by you I would have laughed like that but in your face My Yonah.”

“I didn’t eat people at all years ago,” he pointed out. 

“Not the point I was making,” Xharem focused again on her stew. 

“Im going to try to get them to sleep,” he said, “so there shouldn’t be any noise.” 

“Do they know your plan?” The dragon’s eyes sparkled, “that you’re going to hold them all night?”

“No,” he grinned, “I gotta be evil somehow. They set out to humiliate me and clearly being eaten doesn’t scare them and isn’t punishment enough since it was central to their plan! I don’t want to hurt them, so I figured I can frustrate the hell out of them.” 

“And still eat them,” Xharem said. 

“Of course,” Yonah smiled. 

Since he had such a wonderful “dessert” to look forward to (And thought that having his students sitting in food as it digested was crossing several lines) he only ate a small amount of his dinner. But he stayed to talk to Xharem and other professors who climbed onto the massive slab rather than eat at a normal table. Mostly his friends but a few others, like Aidan Bloom, came to chat. 

But let’s take a break for a moment to see how the students are doing. 

The four had mostly went their separate ways but Maya And Chava stuck together. They got their plates and went to the central table which was laden with tonight’s choices. Chava loaded her plate but Maya only picked out a few roasted vegetables and slices of bread for buttering. 

“I’m not even sure I can eat so soon after…” even clean she still smelled the bile and mucus and… 

“Well, he clearly can,” Chava pointed and elbow at where Yonah sat. It was so frustrating to see him so animated and cheerful, talking with the other smallfolk professors like he was a normal person, who didn’t eat smallfolk. She had heard rumors that he’s eaten some of them, but that couldn’t be true! Even if it explained why he was allowed to eat students. 

“And we weren’t really eaten, more like put in time-out in a unique location.” 

Maya thought of a comeback about how they weren’t children so getting a “time out” was kinda infantilizing, but not fast enough. 

They sat down without really seeing who was at the table. So of course it was Kalan, as well as Aaron And Toby. Three out of the other six who had detention in a few hours. 

“Survived being eaten by the giant I see?” Kalan sneered. 

“Not exactly an accomplishment when you know said giant isn’t going to digest you” Chava said, And defiantly took a bite of food that she fully intended to keep down and digest. 

“You’re surprisingly chipper for one who’s next down his throat!” Ertza noted, “And you two surprisingly calm.”

Kalan picked at the remains of their beans “like you said, not so bad when you know it’s safe.” 

“We never said it was a good experience! It was horrible!”

“I’ve been eaten before,” Kalan asserted. 

“So have I!” Chava shot back “This is different, I hope you like -“ 

“Please for the god of knowledge , stop talking about this! Some of us are trying to eat!” 

Aaron was shaking a bit. He’d never been eaten, and at the start of this little experiment he was feeling confident but now, now that it was really going to happen… 

“I would honestly advise against it,” Said Ertza, “you don’t want to get sick in there.”

“I said stop talking!” But he stopped eating. 

“Oh, Aaron... I mean. It’s gonna suck, but it’s not scary. Well ok. Being swallowed is scary but otherwise it’s just uncomfortable.” Ertza wasn’t sure they should continue, “and like, it smells, that’s why- I- Yeah…” 

—-

It was pretty much exactly 10pm when all six students knocked at the cave door. 

Yonah let them in and smiled as they trembled when he placed the huge metal bar into the door’s latch. No escape. 

He had them set up the enchantment circle in the center of the cave. He didn’t want to waste the safety charms in his staff, and these had to last longer anyways. 

It was a tricky cast, especially as Yonah had them do it. As if Making them learn something Legitimized this. The set up was more difficult but messing that up would be disaster so he had done it for them. 

he knelt by the now smoldering diagrams made of incense that had not been fully consumed by the cast. 

“I recommend not wearing your robes, little ones, it will make it marginally more comfortable.”

“Sir… you want us… to strip??” Aaron’s voice broke as he spoke what everyone else was thinking. Had Yonah lost his mind? 

“I don’t appreciate the implications,” Yonah smiled widely, “I said robes. Leave on your silks.” 

“Probably just makes it easier to taste us,” Kalan didn’t make any motions to obey Yonah and the others were following their lead.

“It does but That's not why. I Promise you will regret it if you don’t. based on the last group’s experience, you don’t want to be such thick fabrics.” 

All but Kalan immediately disrobed. Kalan took his sweet time, and for good reason. 

“Kalan,” 

Yonah didn’t need to say anything else for the human to step forward. 

“Your smart mouth has earned you the honor of being first!” He said like he was giving out some award. 

“Just, get it over with, I need to study,” 

Yonah obliged and took his own sweet time swallowing Kalan down. 

While he had not told the others they had to watch, he knew they didn’t dare look away. And as Kalan made it to his stomach he sighed and looked at the cowering students. They were looking at his stomach, watching the small tremors as Kalan got comfortable. 

“Toby, for casting that spell you are second.” 

She confidently strode into his hand. 

The order of the rest is unimportant. He mostly wanted all eyes on Kalan. And he actually did go faster with them. Most of them had clearly bathed before hand, which made their flavors sharp and fresh. Gosh he was glad to be a giant, he wanted to thank whatever god made smallfolk taste so damn good. He chuckled as he imagined that most smallfolk would like to curse such a god. Which made him chuckle and the humans inside him to complain. 

“Hey! Try to be quiet, we don’t want to wake Xharem.”

It had been some time since he’d eaten so many folks at once. It hurt a bit, yet He stroked his gut affectionately as the humans tried to orient themselves. 

“Don’t worry about air,” he said, “I made sure it cycles out.” 

There was a jumble of responses but he was sure most were along the sarcastic lines of “wow thanks, so considerate!” 

“What are you doing!” Someone shouted as he stood up. 

“Going to my room,” he answered, as he wobbled to his feet. 

OOF. His gut was very heavy. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick! That would be unpleasant for everyone. Managing to steady himself he discarded the illusion of his formal robes. He had changed into his nightgown before they arrived, the idea of changing with a belly full of a students was… unappealing. Cradling his stomach and weaving a little magic to dim the lights in the main chamber he wandered back to his own. 

Wow he was sleepy. He had done his best to seem alert but once he got past four of them the waves of drowsiness were hard to ignore. It was only 11pm! 

He sat down on his mattress and leaned against the wall. It was nice and cold. He was silent for a few minutes, focusing on his occupants. 

They shifted a lot and were talking in hushed tones. He could still hear them fairly well. Mostly wondering how long they would be stuck there, asking someone to move their foot, and worrying about the fact that he wasn’t talking. 

So he waited a few more minutes before announcing: 

“I know about the experiment.” 

His stomach was filled with grumbles and possibly a bit of panic. 

“I can’t say I’m not pleased with how I was compensated, you are quiet the scrumptious dessert!” He drummed his fingers over his gut. “Still, I was the unwitting subject, and I don’t appreciate being made to look the fool.”

Breathing in deeply he focused on the struggling movements. No one spoke up, which he’s hoped for since he wasn’t done talking. 

“Don’t do it again,” he said with a deep growl, “I hope you don’t show the other professors this level of disrespect. As fun as it must be to mess with me, I can’t be appeased with getting to eat trouble makers. I will enforce real punishment if this continues.” 

It was getting harder for him to think, with his belly so full. He lay down on his back and closed his eyes. 6 was a lot of humans and it was a bit painful, but in this position it was simply bliss. 

“Real punishment sir? You- you ate us… what would Real punishment be?” Toby sounded worried. 

Yonah put a hand over his stomach and let gravity hold it down. 

He took another deep breath, but kept his hand in place so it pressed into his stomach. He had to really gather his thoughts to respond intelligently. 

“Im not stupid, you don’t learn anythig from this. Being eaten is you paying me back for being little shits more than is my disciplinin you. Not much to do in my stomach, you just sit there. Not very constructive.” 

Wow he was impressed with himself! he was still able to use such big words. 

“You would just have us do work like the rest of the professors,” Kalan supplied.

“Correct,” he smiled. He was really too soft on them. Letting them do nothing for detention, they could be fixing the unicorn stables, or clearing a tower of blood moths, or be put on staff tuning duty for a week. They should be thanking him! He hiccuped and remembered a thing. 

“Oh and Kalan, you owe Maya some money.”

There was a lot of movement and shouting. Specifically at Kalan for having moved so much. 

“Wait what! Why?”

Yonah yawned and pulled up his blanket, and made sure his pillow was in perfect poofiness. 

“I- doh-ooont remember exactly,” he wasn’t trying to sound awake anymore. His voice was light and uncaring. 

“Are you falling asleep!” Aaron spoke, voice cracking, “Professor! We’re still in your stomach!”

A humming sigh rolled through the stomach as the giant responded. 

“It’s rare I get to sleep with such a wonderfully full belly.” He said, affectionately rubbing his stomach. “Did you know that overeating makes giants drowsy. It’s-*yawn* quiet delightful.”

His limbs were starting to feel heavy and numb as he started to tune out the humans. 

“This must be in violation of some rule sir! You can’t keep us here all night!” Kalan sounded both angry and scared. 

It took a few seconds for Yonah to respond, and encouragement from the others 

“It’s alight, you’ll be *f-fiiine*” he yawned again.

He did feel a bit bad, they were definitely scared. Trapped in the dark and damp, with all the noises of his body, for several hours to come. But they really would be ok. Probably very stiff when they woke. 

“If you sleep it- hhuuuh” he forced his brain to work, “it will be over sooner.”

“We have homework!” 

They all started complaining and while he was certainly fighting hard to stay awake, the noise was irritating his sensitive ears. 

“If you all don’t quiet down I’ll eat you again next class,” he shifted a bit. They shifted a bit. 

“So try to sleep, or at least keep it down. I’ll let you out in the morning.” 

There was a lot of grumbling but they did seem to be finding more comfortable positions.

“Goodnight my tasty little students,” he said, before drifting off, and arm across his stomach, so pleasantly full. And he swore a few voices returned the sentiment. 

No one spoke for several minutes as the Giant’s breathing And heartbeat slowed around them. 

“What do we do?!” Leor hissed.

This was the most uncomfortable he had ever been. Squished up against a fleshy wall with someone’s elbow in his thigh and someone else’s ass in his face. And it smelled. It smelled so bad. Not to mention it was like a sauna. But was he really sweating or was that just fluids from the stomach...

“There isn’t any chance one of you has a teleport prepared?” Kalan asked. 

They were pinned to the bottom of the stomach, near the sphincter that led to the intestines. The fluids that gathered in the stomach were kept low by the motions of the muscle, pushing it all towards Kalan and through the minuscule aperture. 

At least with Yonah laying on his back they weren’t stacked on top of each other. That had sucked a lot. 

“We’re in our silks Kalan! Unless you’ve got one up your Ass!” Toby said. 

Toby was sandwiched between Kalan and Shital, and wriggled until she was on her back. Minimally better. Her face wasn’t pressing into mucus covered flesh anymore, she could breathe better. 

“Maybe we should sleep. I don’t particularly feel like talking to any of you for- how long do you think this will be?” Shital suggested but didn’t sound thrilled. 

“Sleep?! We’re In a giant’s stomach! I ain’t fucking sleeping!” Leor was too wound up, this was too freaky. 

“At least can we get some light then?”

“If rather not see” but Toby already conjured a few pinpricks of dull light. 

“We can do better than this! We’ll be aching something fierce in the morning if we don’t reorganize.” 

A grumble that wasn’t from Yonah went around her. They all agreed but didn’t want to move. 

“Come on! It will be worth it.”

After several minutes of squabbling they managed to all lay four of them sort of shoulder to shoulder with two laying across on the four. It was still packed like sardines, but they weren’t contorted any more and no one’s elbows were in someone’s eyes. 

“I’m-I’m going to try and sleep!” Aaron announced from the far end of the bottom pile. Everyone looked at him disbelieving. 

“You all can stay awake if you wish but I don’t fancy laying here for 8 hours! I’m sleeping!” And he turned his back to the rest of them. 

They all were quiet and then amazed when a few minutes later heard gentle sleepy snores from Aaron. He’d done it! 

“How is he able to do that?” Toby hissed, not wanting to wake him.

“Maybe we can too if we just shut up and close our eyes,” Shital suggested, she lay next to Aaron and sort of nestled into the flesh below her and against Aaron. A moment later she slept too.

“This is insanity!” Leor said to The rest, which was now Kalan and Amiya, for Toby also succumbed a shortly after Shital. 

Wait. Amiya was sleeping too! They’d barely said a word since they were eaten, and possibly were asleep before Aaron!

“Clearly not,” Kalan sort of gestured to the four sleeping astoundingly soundly. 

They wouldn’t admit it but the flesh beneath them was amazingly soft and warm. If only they weren’t squashed by 5 others, this might be nice. 

Ugh! No! This wasn’t nice! They had been eaten! This was bad! 

“Try to sleep Leor,” Kalan yawned and turned their head away from Leor’s glare. 

It was still an hour before it happened, but Leor eventually managed to fall asleep. 

All in all, Not the worst detention ever. 

[FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[wordsturnintostories]

show me your rosettes, baby (g)

summary: The world tour is over and the Bangtan Boys finally get their well-deserved break. When Namjoon suddenly can’t find Jimin anywhere, things take an unexpected and pretty unbelievable turn. “Kim Namjoon!” “Hyung. How common is it for people to turn into cats?” word count: 6.1k note: woooo a looong chapter. contains a special guest. the guessing is over. who is at the door? you’ll see. have fun! ✨

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]

what happened before:

“Oh God, no, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon pants in surprise and tries to grab the little one who is just way too curious for his own good. Those blue eyes glow with babylike innocence and Namjoon has to hold on to the wall to not fall for the younger’s charms. No, he wants to say sternly, but something tells him the little leopard doesn’t understand the concept of… things… yet. So all he can do before the doorbell rings a fourth time is to kinda push Jimin away gently and ignore the playful mewl and the sharp claws digging into his big toe. That should occupy him enough, Namjoon hopes and grabs the door handle.

Opening the door feels like playing the lottery. He wonders whether it will be Seijin or someone else. When Namjoon’s brown eyes hit familiar warm eyes, his heart stops for a second. Jackson!? Shit. What do I do?

It’s just his bad luck that he’d not only forgotten to check his business calendar but that he’d also neglected his personal one. With all the changes of plans that Jimin had bestowed upon them during the last days, could anyone blame him, though? Probably not.

Of course, Namjoon does what he has to - he pushes Jimin a little further away, but not far enough to go into a stretched-out position (cause he doesn’t want to look like an idiot in front of his friend - his first impression was enough embarrassment to last a lifetime) and forces a smile to Jackson, one person he’s rarely ever fake-smiled at.

“Kim Namjoon. I want to be mad at you,” is what Jackson says with a pout, “You left me standing here for almost five minutes. You’re lucky I’m so patient.”

Namjoon bows. “I’m sorry. Please come in.”

There’s a clear feeling of defeat when Namjoon feels something sharp digging into his toe. He winces. Not the big one. Jackson notices, looks concerned and sniffs. He’s got a cold, already reaching in his pocket to get a tissue.

“Hyung, are you in pain? Oh, you got a cat?”

“No, why would you think that!” 

It’s a fast answer, way too fast and not believable at all because Jimin presses his little body against Jackson’s ankles and everything is ruined. There’s a little rumble and then, from Jackson, a little coo. Plus, a dawning realization (along with an amused cackle).

“This why it took you so long to open the door? You tried to hide this fella?”

“Yeah, I was worried that staff would find out, so I thought that I should be careful.”

“Gotcha. Aw, he’s so cute.”

This hangout is going to be a challenge, Namjoon knows it already with the amount of inner panic that he has to push away even with this one pronoun in Jackson’s mouth. How does he know, is what flits through his mind, but he pushes it away. Jackson doesn’t know. Jackson just called Jimin he because all he sees is a little cat and Namjoon hasn’t specified and actually, why the heck is he worrying so much? Korean doesn’t even have gendered pronouns. Why is he filling in the blanks with his own words? He’s freaking out over nothing, once again. Get your shit together, Kim Namjoon. Don’t assume stuff. He hopes Jackson will buy his acting.

The visiting rapper just continues to talk to the cat, stepping into the apartment and walking into the living room. It looks like Jimin doesn’t quite know what to do from where he had been sitting, distracted from his previous quest to chew up Namjoon’s big toe. Should he follow? It’s like watching the exact moment Jimin’s cat brain makes a decision because after licking his paws once, the kitty gets up and runs after Jackson.

“Yeah, right. So handsome. Oh, and you’re hungry too. Come on, there’s probably something good for you in the kitchen.”

The cub seems to like the guest because it lets itself be picked up without protest or hesitation and rumbles against Jackson’s chest while the two of them make their way to the kitchen that still looks a little wild from breakfast, to be honest. Namjoon would like to sink into the ground when he suddenly becomes aware of what a mess the kitchen table is (an abundance of tuna-mashed-vegetable-spread on the table, yes, directly on the surface). But it seems Jackson really doesn’t mind, he doesn’t even say anything. Instead, he picks up some tuna.

“He’s not on a diet, right?”

What a weird question.

“Uh, no?”

The little cat meows, probably demanding the food Jackson’s been holding in his hand too long.

“Yeah, that’s right. You wanna grow, huh? Become tall and strong. So you can protect your hyung.”

While this interaction is adorable, Namjoon feels like he’s stuck in some sort of film. He half expects someone to come around the corner and yell script lines at him. Is there something specific he has to say next? Are there YouTube tutorials for situations like these? The only thing he knows is that Jackson reminds him of Taehyung in this moment, with that bright love for animals and the gentle, playful way he treats them. It’s not good. Taehyung gets attached too easily and Namjoon is already thinking about how to sell this story. He could pretend that this was a stray cat that he’s found by the apartment. Yeah, that sounds somewhat believable. But what do normal people do with animals like this? Animal shelter, right? Are there any animal shelters nearby? But then Jackson leans back and looks around and Namjoon doesn’t even speak up first.

“Wow, it’s so quiet. Where is everyone?”

“Oh yeah, the others went home to visit their families. They’ll come back in a few days.”

“Even Suga-hyung?”

“At the studio. He’s working hard even on his day off.”

“Wah, your hyung is so diligent. I want to ask him something later. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Did you come by to hang out with me or Suga-hyung?”

Both of them laugh at the fake exasperation and the little cub makes happy munching sounds and even purrs a little. When Jackson lets him lick the last bits of fish off his fingers, the leopard cub is eager. Just the feeling of that little raspy tongue on his skin makes Jackson laugh.

“That tingles,” he scolds the kitty. Namjoon watches from the side with a slight feeling of sweat on his forehead. How do I fix this? Once they’re clean, Jackson lifts up the little one, a special warmth resurfacing inside of him. The kitty’s gentle burp vibrates against the palm of his hand.

“Ooh, I can feel how full your tummy is. You’re stuffed, baby.”

Once again, he seeks Namjoon’s eye.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Like this? Here? Um, an hour? Half an hour? Honestly, I was just-“

“Crap Joon, does your management know?”

“No,” Namjoon replies, deflated and retreating into the living room. No, they don’t know. They won’t, because this could ruin Jimin’s career. It could be Bangtan’s end. Namjoon will do everything in his power to keep the secret. Even if he knows secrets are literally the worst thing to keep (next to headaches and caught colds - Namjoon always makes sure to throw them back as fast as possible). And, in his made-up story, management doesn’t know about the stray cat in his apartment either. Stick to your story, Namjoon, he warns himself.

Jackson has Jimin on his arms and whispers something into his fur.

Then, he smiles and says, “Uh-oh. He’s so cute though. They probably won’t be mad.”

The look in Jackson’s eyes is almost loving as the kitten rubs its cheek against the human’s. Soft purring floats through the room and Namjoon wants to coo but he can’t because he has to think. He can’t tell his friend that this is Jimin. Because how awkward would it be to say, “The butt you’re scratching is my dongsaeng’s butt but he seems to like it so please keep going.” Just… no. Seeing that he’s left with no other valid option, Namjoon decides to keep the lie up. How unlikely is it that this is some sort of stray cat? Not that unlikely, especially in Seoul.

“What are you gonna do?”

Namjoon isn’t sure what the question refers to exactly, the way that Jackson says it just sounds so… ambiguous? Like there’s a nuance of this conversation that Bangtan’s leader cannot fully grasp. He hopes his voice doesn’t betray his insecurity.

“What’s the most responsible thing to do? I’ll probably bring him to the animal shelter later.”

“What?”

“I mean, there’s no way we could keep him. It’s inevitable that staff will notice and it will be a mess.”

The dogs are fine and Seokjin’s sugar gliders too, but they all have primary places they can stay while not being with their Bangtan owners. Another animal and management would pull their hair out, probably. Namjoon remembers now that ironically, Jimin and Jungkook had asked for a cat before, but that wish had been denied. For logistical reasons. No one wants to carry another animal around on their trips, especially the tours, with all the airport paperwork and staff having to take care of the stressed animals. Plus, cats usually want to run free, outside and on their own, so how can they ensure that a cat would come back from a walk in a strange, foreign city? Summed up, it’s just not a good idea. Or, rather, not a practical one.

“You’re not serious, right?”

Jackson musters Namjoon like a hawk, like he’s searching for something deeper in his friend’s eyes than just the surface calm. Namjoon is aware, wonders what nuance of this conversation he missed, but knows he has to keep up the lie. This is surreal. Even his heart knows it and pounds heavier than usual.

“Yeah why not? Yoongi-hyung, Hobi-hyung, Tae and I have dogs but that’s already a huge responsibility we often can’t really take care of well. We can’t add another pet to the situation now. Also, strays are not always safe to keep.”

For some strange reason, Jackson looks terrified. He grips Jimin tighter and holds him up against his chest protectively. Why is he so upset? Namjoon is sure he’s a good liar. But he can’t lie about the nervousness spreading in his chest. Suddenly, every little twitch in Jackson’s eyes turns into suspicion until Namjoon isn’t sure anymore if what he’s saying is credible. I should switch the topic. Wait. That’s too suspicious. Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into?

“I really can’t tell whether you’re really cruel or just pretending.”

“Uh, it’s called being responsible. Look-“

“No. I don’t believe you. Because your heart is pounding so fast but it has been the entire time since before I rang the doorbell and you’re sweating but that could just be the heat in this room and I’m not sure how to read all the signs in your scent and-“

“Wang Jackson! W-what are you talking about?”

Jackson looks like he’s on fire with the way he suddenly stands up and tosses his baseball cap on the ground. The snapping spooks Jimin a little, the kitty’s tail puffing up as his head snaps to the side and when he can’t read the situation, he sneaks away to bury himself deeply into Namjoon’s hip.

“Hyung, this is Jimin! And I really can’t believe you’d give your dongsaeng away because of this.”

Even in this heated argument, even with his head spinning, Namjoon can see the tears in Jackson’s eyes when he says this. There’s a feeling of fear in the air and Namjoon can’t grasp the unspoken words between them, the reason for this exposition of emotions. What haunts him all the more are the rising questions. How does Jackson know? Is is that obvious? How would he know something like this? I must be a really bad liar… what did I say? Will he hate me for lying in his face like that? Oh, God…

Honestly, Namjoon is out of words and doesn’t even know how to breathe with all these oppressive worries clogging up his brain but apparently, Jackson does have a couple of words for him because he’s still ranting on. He looks really mad. Thinking turns into a race that only stops when the other taps his shoulder gently. The touch pulls him back and makes him notice how his own fingers are trembling on Jimin’s back.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon croaks, feeling like the calm from this morning has slipped away completely, like he’d dreamed it up. Maybe that was a completely different day. Now, all that’s present is the feeling of sitting in the rain. It’s cold and depressing.

“Hyung, did you not know?”

He looks at Jackson, his friend, who sports an expression on his face that spells confusion rather than anger at this point, with two dog ears flat against his head. Wait, dog ears?

“Yoongi-hyung and I…. What is-?”

Only then Namjoon realizes there’s something soft gently moving behind Jackson and he stares at the sleek grey thing. A tail.

“Is that a- Are you- Uh, what…?”

“Hyung, I’m a hybrid. And Jimin-ssi is a shifter. How did you not know?”

How would I have known? It’s not like that’s a thing. No one told me. Hybrids. Shifters?

“I didn’t- what’s a hybrid?”

By now, Jimin seeks closeness to his hyung, placing his paws on Namjoon’s lap as if he feels that comfort might be needed. After checking the dimpled face, he nestles himself into those squishy, strong thighs. Jackson watches the younger, giving off a calmer vibe.

“We’re half-half. Half human, half animal. And you’re living together with one. Well, not quite, since he’s a shifter. They’re a little different from us.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Uh. Shifters are… shifters are like the Hulk. Hybrids are more like Spiderman. Kind of like an 24/7 thing. But that’s not the most important right now. Do you know how hard it is to keep something like that secret? Did the others not know either? And why is he so small? Do you not feed him properly?”

When Namjoon doesn’t answer, overwhelmed by how casually Jackson throws these questions at him like they’re all supposed to make sense, Jackson kneels at Namjoon’s feet to reach up and rub Jimin’s ears.

“Do they feed you enough? Do you have everything you need?”

The little cat doesn’t answer, at least not that Namjoon notices and soon, he’s the target of his friend’s hawk-like glance again. What did I do now? What’s wrong?

“Why is he like this?”

“How?”

“He doesn’t respond.”

“Um, should he? He’s a cat, after all.”

“Hyung,” Jackson sounds offended, “shifters don’t lose their minds when they change. We’re not animals. Well, not entirely.”

He pauses. Sniffs the room. Sniffs Jimin, which translates to Jackson burying his nose in Jimin’s belly fur. As allowing as the little one has been during the whole time of this hyung’s visit, he protests now with a river of sweet meows and an ambitious hiss that is not at all menacing.

“Unless… is this his first time shifting?”

It’s a feeling of helplessness and stupidity crawling over Namjoon’s soul and he hates it so much. Whereas he’d just enjoyed spending time with his dongsaeng during the last days, it had been sweet and downright adorable as much as it had been a learning experience, now the realization that he actually knows nothing at all crystallizes. It feels like crap. And it’s bad because he should be the one being able to figure everything out, leading the other six members securely into one direction, towards their goals. He should be able to take care of their needs. And now he’s overwhelmed. What a leader I am. Can’t even see the path I’m on. Namjoon buries his face in his hands and soon, he feels a kind hand rub his arm.

“Ah, hyung-nim. Don’t worry, okay? It’s not easy, but I’m here for you. Hey, you’re all good. You’re doing great.”

Namjoon breathes. Grateful for the emotional bandaid. Normally, Hoseok would be here to do this, but Jackson isn’t so bad at guiding him either. He’s grateful that baring himself didn’t push this friend (one of the few he has) away.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen it, at least,” he manages to breathe out, “I didn’t know he could do that.”

Jackson hugs him, sensing how heavy this is on his friend who always carries such an air of responsibility and leadership. And this isn’t just a small thing. Being introduced to the entire world of this without any pre-knowledge is no joke. Jackson knows the feeling, has experienced it first-hand a couple of times. He watches the cub squirm and sets him down on the sofa, away from his hyung. Jimin just marks the sofa with his little claws but his sparkling eyes never forget to return to Namjoon. It’s clear the little one adores his hyung.

When Namjoon looks up, grateful for the warm embrace that lifts his spirits, his eyes are drawn to a pair of silvery-brown dog-ears on Jackson’s head. They point at Jimin and move with every sound the little one makes. That… is not what he expected to come out of this hangout that had already been rescheduled three times and almost didn’t happen. Life is crazy. Those are real.

“Okay, could you show me his room? I need to get his scent.”

“What?”

As if this conversation isn’t weird enough already, it makes no attempt at stopping the approaching weirdness. Rather, it embraces it.

“We emit pheromones, it’s like a secret language.“

“I know how animal communication works.”

“Great! Has Jimin peed anywhere yet?”

Namjoon almost chokes on his spit. Shit. Will Jimin pee in the apartment? Wait. Where has he peed the last days? Other than on Yoongi-hyung and me… shoot. We took him outside a couple times but what if he-?

“I hope not,” he mumbles weakly. It would be a lie to pretend it’s not fascinating to watch Jackson’s tail wag in obvious amusement.

“He should at least once. It’s his home and he should mark his territory,” Jackson states without batting an eye and when Namjoon’s mind won’t stop thinking about that, quickly jumping to the obvious follow-up question, he blushes.

“Oh God,” Namjoon mumbles and jumps up, followed immediately by his friend.

“What?”

“I ain’t gonna set foot in your apartment again. Hell no. I don’t even wanna know.”

Jackson cackles, no, erupts in of those laughs where he bends his whole body to slap at his thighs because he enjoys the joke just that much. Namjoon frowns. Yikes.

“Let’s go see Jimin’s room.” Jimin is eager to get off the couch and run after his two hyungs the best he can, tail flopping and paws hitting the floor rhythmically.

“He’s a leopard,” Jackson mumbles, “that’s super rare. You’re gonna have a lot of work on your hands once he’s grown.”

“Grown? He grows?”

The look Jackson gives him is stunning. It’s his typical deadpan- Bro, are you kidding me? look.

“How big?” Namjoon whispers, feeling small under the hybrid’s gaze.

“Have you ever seen leopards? They’re big, Joon. Hence the term Big Cat.”

“Shit.”

They enter Jimin’s room, which is clean of course, except for the stuff on the floor that Namjoon hasn’t cleaned up. Jimin doesn’t like chaos (even if he’s dirty while they’re on tour but who is not?) and loves inviting people (aka Taehyung and Jungkook), so it’s mostly clean. Neat for finding things. (Maybe Namjoon should start cleaning up his stuff too. Hoseok would certainly thank him.)

Namjoon looks at Jackson, not exactly sure what to expect from the other, whose eyes travel all over the place. Maybe he’s looking for something specific. How does this even work?

“How’s the, uh… scent?”

He regrets the question as soon as it’s over his lips. There’s another wtf? look for him and he shrugs apologetically. There’s a big chance Jackson’s just messing with him, like he does all the time, but Namjoon isn’t sure if his question might have been offensive or not. It’s not like his ordinary human nose can smell anything other than the mild fruity-bubbly scent that seems to penetrate everything that belongs to Jimin (it’s that frickin’ body spray he brought home from Tokyo when he went with Jungkook, and Namjoon bets Jimin would probably bathe in it if he could because the younger keeps reordering it). (Oh, and the scent mixes with something sweet, probably that glorious liquid gold hair oil. That one is definitely worth the money for Namjoon too.)

“This is definitely his room, smell-wise,” is all the commenting Jackson does before inspecting the room. Mind-blowing conclusion.

Jimin seems happy to be in here, in his own space, and curls up on the bed, happily rumbling to himself on the sheets. When they make eye contact and Namjoon remembers what Yoongi taught him, to blink slowly, Jimin takes the gesture like a gift, purrs in a kitty-thank you and bares his belly. Aware of the high degree of trust that’s on display, the rapper keeps a tight grip on his wrist.

Don’t rub his belly, Yoongi had recommended, nay, warned.  What kind of cat expert are you, hyung?  That’s common knowledge, had been the elder’s casual reply. 

So instead of succumbing to his urges to let the adorableness meet his fingertips, Namjoon stealthily takes a photo. The leopard ears swirl at the audible click. At the same time, Jackson turns towards him. Caught, Namjoon blushes but it doesn’t seem like his guest minds. The tail is still wagging. This is so surreal.

“One thing is strange,” Jackson notes and Namjoon can’t help but imagine the worst thing right away. Is something wrong? Is he sick? What if-?

“What is it?”

“Jimin’s scent is really… weird, somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure… I have a suspicion, but I don’t want to say it as long as I’m not sure.”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t think so. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know if I can confirm it.”

Namjoon’s head feels like it’s spinning. This is worse than a Seoul-New York jet lag. Honestly, he’s never heard of any of this stuff and he doesn’t know what to think about it either. He only knows that with every passing second, his desire for Jimin to turn back intensifies. Just to turn back, stay human and not cause more stress than necessary. He can’t even imagine what this means for all of the members on a long term basis. A dramatic gasp pulls him out of his sorrowful thoughts.

“Where did he get these?”

“Get what?”

Jackson holds up one of the pill containers from the nightstand next to Jimin’s bed.

“Oh, those are supplements his parents make him take since he was young. Vitamins or something, I don’t know the exact details. But he gets sick without them.”

“Hyung, these are really high-dosed suppressants.”

“Is that… bad?”

“Probably.”

“What do they suppress?”

“His shifting, most likely. Look, his genetic root is a leopard, not a domesticated cat, so you can expect the genes to be strong. Hence these high-concentration suppressants. I bet they wore out, his body got used to it. This,” Jackson looks at the pill tube, reading the banderole, “is a really high dose. It certainly explains why he’s shifted this late. They’re not healthy for his body because they suppress what’s natural for him. Shifters usually turn as children and their parents teach them to control their two forms and their instincts. If he’s taken suppressants since his childhood, it’s all been suppressed and he’ll have to learn all of that now.”

“But will it cause negative long-term effects?”

“I can’t tell you. The only thing I can guess is that his parents are shifters and when they noticed his drive to dance, they wanted to enable him to pursue his dream, to make it far. Hybrids and shifters both aren’t exactly appreciated in the industry, hyung. They wanted to give him a chance. So you’ll have to support him as much as possible. He won’t have it easy now.”

When did Jimin ever have it easy? Namjoon can’t say that this new information sounds good. He takes a look at his dongsaeng that seems comfortable under Namjoon’s warm hand. His mind wanders to Jackson’s dog ears that turn towards Jimin when he starts to purr.

“So, do you have any dog-like instincts or behavior? Or characteristics? Apart from the ears and the tail.”

Jackson’s tail flops against the sofa cushions in a steady, happy thrum. To Namjoon, it sounds like a little beat, happy, maybe bordering on cheeky. Typical Jackson. And this is when Namjoon takes note of how intertwined these animal traits must be - because there’s no way Namjoon can spot the line where they flow into his human ones. It’s all Jackson, all one person. It will be the same for Jimin, right?

When his friend laughs, body moving along with the freehearted sound, Namjoon blushes. Just a little. In retrospect, the question is so weird.  So embarrassing.

“Man, I’m surprised you ask. It’s so obvious. You know how I like meeting people. I love people. Also, I’m super athletic. I’ve been told that’s very dog-like.”

After a second of nodding in complete acceptance of the facts, Namjoon’s mind hits the brakes. Hard.

“Tae…” the idea seems ridiculous but kind of realistic enough and he just doesn’t know. He ends up whispering, “…is Tae a dog hybrid like you? He loves people as well and people love him. He’s like a puppy sometimes.”

In his mind, it’s not too impossible, considering he hadn’t known about Jimin all this time, much less Jackson. So when the other shakes his head, Namjoon isn’t fully convinced.

“Why not?”

“He’s not, Joon, don’t worry. He smells human. Don’t get paranoid now.”

“Am not paranoid,” Namjoon mumbles and plays with Jimin’s tail until the cat starts chasing after his fingers. It’s fun to see Jimin playing so freely, even if the claws come out and break Namjoon’s skin.

“Just a little?”

“No. So, how long will he stay like this?”

“When did he change?”

“This is his third day.”

“Since it’s his first time, probably still a day? He doesn’t know how to control it, so it will just happen at one point.”

“It just happens? Like, how?”

“Like farting. It just happens.”

Namjoon’s mind just… blanks. It’s too much information at once. Jackson’s humor doesn’t even register. There are too many things that don’t fit in Namjoon’s mind. He feels emotionally exhausted. Even if there’s nothing that’s really happened during the last minutes. He thinks about Yoongi-hyung, living his best life in the studio. Probably napping. Namjoon wants to nap.

“Or like blanking out,” Jackson cackles, “are you okay, bro?” He only gets a hum in return.

“You know what,” Jackson proposes, “I’ll get you a specialist to come by and check him out. I know someone trustworthy.”

“Jackson,” Namjoon starts and he doesn’t quite know how to go on from there because he feels a headache coming. It’s all too much.

“It’s okay, I’ll give you some time. Text me if you need anything.”

And then, Jackson slips a business card in his hand. It’s a little thinner and strangely, more solid than any other business card he’s ever held. The light catches on it softly, making the vivid grey surface shimmer in the sunlight. It stuns Namjoon when the card warms up against his fingers and he’s even more surprised when the fine white Chinese characters on it somehow… thrum a little against Namjoon’s fingers, like they’re alive and want to get his attention. As if the light and the warmth had stirred them from a hibernation sleep, they swim together and reform into Korean words right before his eyes. Namjoon gasps, looking up at Jackson, who just smiles and shrugs. Surely this can’t be real…? When he looks back to the buzzing paper in his hand (is that even paper?), the card spells, “Call me on this day in a month. Jimin won’t need me until then. You’re doing well, Kim Namjoon. But make sure to tell the others.”

After he’s read the words, they swim together again and almost as if he’s watching a little animation, he sees a white-line drawing of a figure picking up, washing, and feeding a little cat. That’s me. His eyes widen. 잘 했어, 김남준 appears again, after the figures fade. A big sigh falls from his lips. Well done.

When the card keeps silent, no more than the bare grey from the beginning, he’s a little confused. What kind of business card is this? Doesn’t leaving out a number or a name defeat the purpose of a business card?

“There is no number,” he points out. Jackson doesn’t look surprised whatsoever. “Or name.”

“The contact details will be there when you need it.”

“Is this magic?”

“You think Jimin turning into a leopard is not? Everything is magic. We just don’t see it all the time. Actually, you’re a musician, so you should know that by now.”

It’s difficult to keep a straight face after this new information that doesn’t actually make sense (but what does, on this strange day?) and while Namjoon still hasn’t an idea about what to make of the card, he slips it into his pocket. Reassurance softly bumps into his heart without warning, settling there. Relief spreads. It’s nice, a bubbly feeling like champagne. Namjoon finds it almost addicting. It will all work out.

I’ll put the card by my mirror so I won’t forget it, Namjoon thinks. However mysterious the contact may be, if Jackson trusts them, he’ll trust them too. He sits on Jimin’s bed, still working on sorting through all his thoughts and questions. Jimin nuzzles into his hip and Namjoon lets himself fall back. When he closes his eyes, everything swirls around in wild circles. The cat’s fur is soft between his fingers and he strokes Jimin’s back as well as he can, careful to be a gentle giant.

Something rings back in the kitchen and Namjoon is certain that it must be Jackson’s phone. Sure enough, the other rapper perks up from where he had been rummaging through Jimin’s drawers, still looking for something like a clue, something he can’t describe to Namjoon but something that would be helpful in understanding Jimin’s situation.

When Jackson leaves to take the call, Jimin just looks up to Namjoon with his big blue eyes. The latter isn’t sure what he can seem in them.

“What’s wrong, hm?”

The little leopard doesn’t answer, only puts a paw on his hand to sort of hold it there and nibble on Namjoon’s index finger. Maybe he’s teething, Namjoon thinks. I should really get him some toys that he can bite and chew on. Or-

“Are you hungry again? Jiminie?”

Jimin doesn’t reply, only gags and mewls when he takes too much of the finger into his jaw. Namjoon quickly caresses Jimin’s back while the little one shakes from the force of his own body protesting against the intrusion.

“Be careful,” Namjoon chides. He can’t deny the little spike of panic inside of him when his dongsaeng gagged. For a second, he’d been afraid that Jimin would throw up his food from before but right now, the younger seems fine, moving back to chew on Namjoon’s spit covered finger. To prevent further accidents, Namjoon lifts Jimin up and walks towards the living room from where Jackson still hadn’t returned. Hopefully the call doesn’t bring bad news.

Jimin wiggles around in Namjoon’s grip and the rapper feels the small muscles and bones in his hand, can feel the pricky little claws snagging on his skin, can feel the fluffy fur brushing against his fingers. Jimin is a little ball of contrasts, just the same as he is in human form. Cute but fierce. In an alluring kind of way. Small but strong. Kind but ready to hurl you against a wall if need be. Not that Jimin really does that regularly. But he can, potentially, and just knowing that the possibility exists adds to his appeal. As a human, obviously. As a leopard cub, he fits into Namjoon’s two hands.

Namjoon steps into the living room to see Jackson shove his phone back into the pocket of his jeans jacket.

“Management,” he rolls his eyes. Namjoon wonders how often their members get called in by management.

“I actually gotta go, I’m really sorry that this didn’t work out,” he adds and while Namjoon understands, there’s a little hint of disappointment crawling into his mind. But honestly, he’d already forgotten their original plan to hang out to have fun and talk about their lives. Priorities, right?

“It’s fine. Better go before they worry,” Namjoon waves it off, hoping that his own worry won’t show. He’s been with Jimin for three days (not knowing what to make of the situation for three days), so he should be fine (although letting the guy who actually knows stuff go is the stupidest idea ever). It shouldn’t be a big deal and yet, Namjoon really isn’t sure. He knows that the internet is useless in this case (it’s hard to believe that almost every human being on this planet uses it and there’s still next to no helpful stuff on there). On top of that, he isn’t really emotionally ready to prepare the talk with the members and with management on his own, without any advice from an expert.

“Hey, are you going to be okay? I know it must be a lot for you, with Jimin like this. I’ll try to help you as well as I can, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Jackson.”

“Anything for you, bro. Just let me know. Seriously, just text me.”

“Kay,” Namjoon says. It doesn’t mean he’s happy with how this hangout turned out. “You owe me. Let’s go out for dinner next time.”

Jackson nods.

“Bye Jiminie, hyung is leaving,” he reaches out to boop Jimin’s nose and the little cat rasps a sweet purr as a goodbye. “Yeah baby, see you soon.”

Namjoon looks at the cub fondly, feeling oddly warm about the fact that his dongsaeng treats his friend so well - it’s not that he doesn’t expect him to, Jimin is a very sociable person who loves his friends dearly and Jackson is a loved-by-all social butterfly but Namjoon feels honored to have his younger brother appreciate his choice of friends. It’s just - nice to see.

“You’re such a Dad,” Jackson teases.

“Oh come on, shut up,” Namjoon grins but blushes a little, just like every single time the other rapper exploits this old joke.

“They are all your children, admit it,” Jackson cackles, and while it’s just a joke he loves to bring up over and over again, it’s a little irritating because Namjoon knows that there’s a grain of truth in it. There was a recent interview where he even admitted that wish of his. It’s old, his wish, old with yellowed edges, old with moments of pondering, of wishing that things could be different. Moments of imagining what it would be like to hold little hands in his big ones, to have a little body on his chest, sleeping, to have the power to take all nightmares away with a kiss, to have the power to create a life and make it precious by filling it up with love. Yeah, Namjoon wants that. Sometimes, the wish becomes a painful aching in his heart, mingling with doubt, producing tears. It seems impossible sometimes, and that’s why he is grateful when he meets Seokjin’s eyes and recognizes the quiet understanding in them. It’s those days and moments that Jimin usually sneaks up to him, giving comfort even if his mind doesn’t feel the same longing. It doesn’t matter, Jimin loves to give comfort and Namjoon gives thanks every time. So, until the day comes where Namjoon can really be a Dad (he had confided in Jackson long ago), he will just take care of this group. Maybe not like a Dad would, but he could swear he’s raised Jungkook. And that has to count for something.

“Except for Jin-hyung,” the cackling builds up and Namjoon swears if Jackson doesn’t stop, he will- “he’s your husband, of course.”

“Yah, you’re such an annoying friend, honestly.”

Jackson bursts into laughter even as Namjoon shoves him towards the door.

“You’re so shameless it’s criminal,” he says, groaning.

“I know. That’s my appeal,” Jackson waggles with his eyebrows until Namjoon can’t keep the warm laughter inside his belly anymore.

“You’re ridiculous. Go smooch Jinyoung.”

“Kim Namjoon! Don’t make fun of my babies only because you’re bitter that yours are gone.”

“Oh my god. Okay. Tell your babies I said Hi.”

“Will do,” he gives a thumbs up until his phone rings a second time, “have a good one.”

“You too, man.”

When his door closes, Namjoon stills. He is looking at an empty apartment, quiet now where laughter had been a few seconds ago. He still feels it in his body, the joy that always stays behind when Jackson leaves.

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]

tags: @taeshuworld, @justanemptydream, @hoodmeup, @gingerpeachtae​

[thehomierobbstark]

Movie Night

Ramen Recipe

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: A typical movie night turns into anything but.

A/N: Don’t ask me where I come up with this shit 😂😂😂 I just be horny as hell daydreaming and be getting creative AF. Been holding onto this idea for a few months now.

Warnings: 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿 At the bottom

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy if I decide to continue writing.

*Edit* This story belongs in the Teach Me AU after chapter 5 (chapter 4 & 5 have yet to be posted but there’s your timeline).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ya Out Fit

“You… you made this?” she asks incredulously, face full of shock and disbelief, her cheeks poked out from the mouthful of ramen she was covering with her hand.  It was absolutely adorable, the way she looked right now.

Erik groans, dramatically palming a hand over his face and dropping his head back in faux annoyance. This was her fourth time asking him, AND she was just finishing her second helping. If she didn’t believe him by now, he didn’t know if she ever would.

“Yes, babygirl! This all me,” he laughs, watching her munch away on noodle and egg.

It was movie night at Erik’s tonight, except he usually never cooked; they always ordered out. This time, he’d insisted they sit down and eat an actual dinner, even going so far as to give her a scheduled time to arrive. Usually, she’d just show up whenever.

“Hey,” She says, throwing her hands up in defense. “All I know is, last time I saw you in the kitchen, Auntie Dee had just walked out with half her eyebrow missing.”

She steels her face against the oncoming grin, looking away to avoid his eyes.

Erik kisses his teeth, side eyeing her from his end of the table.

“Man, whatever! You always gotta bring up old shit. She ain’t even notice it.”

She drops her hands as the smile breaks through, nodding her head in concession as she remembers how unaware poor Auntie Dee was and how much shit they used to get away with when they were younger.

“You is mutha fuggin RIGHT!” she sings, laughing at her own joke before she’s able to finish telling it.

“You so fuckin wack,” he rolls his eyes at her, chest bouncing from his suppressed chuckles as he gets up from his chair. “Come on and put ya stuff in the kitchen cornball.” He commands, scooping his bowl and chopsticks up before grabbing both their cups.

“How you know I was done tho,” she verbally argues, but follows suit right behind him.

“Cuz, you are.” He states plainly, as if it was obvious.

“CUz yOU aRe,” She silently mocked him, mouthing the words and making a face at the back of his head while she padded into the kitchen. He was right, she was done, but he ain’t need to know all that.

“Don’t get your ass whooped, little girl.” He warns her, glancing back with a knowing face while he places the dishes in the sink.

Yeah, whateva nigga. She thinks, eyebrow twitching from the mental eye roll she does. She places her dishes in after him, flipping on the tap to start some dish water while she tucks her loose braids behind her ear. He turns it off immediately, shooing her away.

“Don’t worry about allat, I’ll handle this later.” He ushers her out of the kitchen, knowing how helpfully domestic she was whenever they hung out together.  

“Go pick out a movie and put it in, I gotta go grab something from upstairs real quick.” he says, leaving her in the living room near the couch while he dashes up the stairs to the second floor.

She waits a few beats, idling by the foot of the stairs while she listens to the sound of him moving around. She hears a door close, and slowly moseys her way back into the kitchen, turning the tap back on.

She never did like to listen much.

Once the sink was filled with soapy water, she busied herself, letting herself fall into the monotonous but comfortable task of washing the dishes.  She was so distracted and in her own head by the fifth dish, she didn’t realize that Erik had come back down stairs and propped himself against the wall, watching her.

“So I see we just out here doing whatever we feel like, huh?” His voice announces his presence, startling her a little bit.

She recovers smoothly, her answer rolling off her tongue easily.

“Always,” she says, rinsing a pair of panda decorated chopsticks off before smirking over at him, grinning wickedly.  Nobody could ever keep her from doing what she wanted, a fact they both knew.

“Well, since you wanna wash dishes so bad,” he says, taking slow steps towards her, face focused while a hint of something sinister lurks somewhere behind his eyes. “Go head and finish then.”

She studies his movements cautiously from the corner of her eye, knowing that he was notorious for surprise attacks of either tickling her until she collapsed or tossing her over his shoulder to body slam her on the couch.

He quickened his steps, and before she could fully remove her hands from the water to shield herself, he slides up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist.

She reaches for him, but he grunts in disapproval. “Uh uh, put them wet ass fingers back in that sink. You not touching me with them hands.”

Y/N scoffs, grabbing the side of the sink while she shifts her weight to one foot. “Really, Erik.”

He ignores her, wrapping his fingers around her tighter and pulling her closer to him while his head slides in place next to hers.

“I said,” He leans in close, his lips grazing the skin in front of her ear, “finish those fucking dishes.”

Her heartbeat stutters in her throat, mouth going dry from the sudden intensity of his words. She looks down into the sink, seeing the remaining pot and cup left to wash.

Looking back up, she turns to face Erik when his head buries in her neck, pinching the thin skin behind her ear with his teeth, making her take in a sharp gasp.

“What I just say?” he asks darkly, and she freezes as she feels his rough fingers travel up to the dip in her back, pushing her forward gently to lean her over the sink, a silent command to do as she’s told.

She picks up the sponge, lathering it with soap as her mind splits focus between her task and Erik’s hands on her.

As she cleans the pot, he starts to knead small circles into her back with his thumbs, palms rubbing lovingly over her love handles as his hands travel up her back.

It was a comforting massage, helping to release tension she didn’t even know she was holding, and she slowly melted into his fingers.

When he reaches her shoulder blades, he leans down to place a soft kiss on her back, tugging the material of her dress down slightly with his index finger. With the little bit of access he gained, he sticks his tongue out and licks a delicious stripe up her spine, his fingers lacing into the braids at the base of her head to push them aside.

She tenses up again, back involuntarily arching as the cold air hits the warm trail of spit he left behind, making her shiver.

She’d stopped cleaning at that point, far too distracted with what he was doing to her to give a damn about the last cup in the sink.

Reaching the nape of her neck, he ends the lick with a firm bite on the space where her shoulder and neck meet, growling around a mouthful of skin at the breathy moan that escapes her lips.

Detaching from her, his hands find their way back around her hips, squeezing there before he speaks again, lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“Meet me in the living room when you’re finished. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He lets go of her and steps away, reaching back to give her a swift pop to her ass.

He disappears around the corner into the living room, and Y/N takes a second to gather herself.

Tilting her head back, she blows out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes to reason with her body to come down from the intense rush of hormones that just spiked all over.

Looking back into the sink at the remaining dish, she turns on the water to rinse it off, not even caring if it was thoroughly cleaned or not. She didn’t even want to play with the idea of being late if it meant Erik had any more tricks up his sleeve similar to what just happened. She wasn’t sure if her underwear would make it.

She quickly placed the cup on the drying rack and dried her hands, taking a moment to smooth out her dress and ruffle her braids for a messy but cute look. She had an inkling that her look would probably be ruined by the end of the date anyway, but she could at least attempt to sustain it.

She rounds the corner to the living room, feeling her uncomfortably wet panties moving against her center as she does. Seeing Erik on the couch, she makes a mental note to sit on the opposite end and keep her legs crossed to keep the smell of her arousal from leaking out. She’d be mortified if Erik ever discovered just how turned on he’d made her with his little show in the kitchen. His ego didn’t need any more feeding than it already got on a regular basis.

She plops herself down on the couch, but she isn’t seated two seconds before Erik’s doling out commands again.

“Uh uh. Get your lil ass over here and come pick a movie out like I told you.” She rolls her eyes, kissing her teeth and popping back up to make her way over to the coffee table. He was being stupid bossy, and he had about one more time to be talking to her like that before they had a problem.

Y/N was so busy fussing in her head over Erik’s trifling ass that she didn’t realize the coffee table was weirdly pulled close to the couch, the six movie choices arranged in the center directly in front of where Erik was sitting.

Walking over, she stands perpendicular to both him and the table, looking at the small space in between where she was apparently supposed to stand to make her selection. If she did, her ass would be directly in his face, and with the short dress she was wearing combined with the current state of her cheeky underwear, that was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

Crossing her arms, she peeks over her shoulder to take a look at the options, but the table is incredibly low and her blind ass didn’t have her glasses on, making the titles on the DVD cases difficult to read.

She glances over at Erik to see that he’s watching her intensely, smug smile hidden behind his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“I ain’t got all day beautiful. Bend that blind ass over and choose one. I’m not gon say it again.”

Alright. This nigga was getting way too comfortable ordering her around and she was Over It ™.

She drops her arms and steps to him, ready to start cursing him out when he grabs her hips and spins her around, holding her with a firm grip right at the top of her thighs. Leaning forward, he nips at the back of her thigh, rubbing away the sharp pain with his thumb before kissing the sensitive area.

Dropping one hand down in between her legs, he lazily draws his fingers up the inside of her ankle, delicately digging his nails into her so she could feel them scraping against her skin.

When he reaches her knee, her mind snaps back to reality, and she opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Erik -”

“I’m not stopping until you find something for us to watch. So get busy.” he says plainly, shutting down any argument she was about to make.

His nails scrape up past her knee, and Y/N reflexively closes her legs, the tickling sensation starting to become too much for her.  

His hand was trapped between her thighs at that point, and thinking him to be defeated, she bends over, placing both hands on the coffee table for leverage, leg muscles still constricted as she tries to scan over the movies.

She gets to the third title, looking it over when Erik pulls his hand from between her legs, moving quickly to flip up the skirt of her dress and grip both her ass cheeks to spread them apart.

She doesn’t even have time to reach back to push him away when he buries his face into her clothed crotch, nose digging sweetly right into her opening. He takes in a deep breath, inhaling everything she has to offer, and her knees go weak making her grip the edge of the table more firmly.

It lasts a few seconds, and when he’s done he opens his mouth, bellowing out a deep and satisfied groan as his hot breath centers right over her pussy, making her squirm around and clench, still helplessly locked in his grip.

Delirious now from the ecstasy of what just happened, she slaps the table, her hand landing on the cover of a random DVD she no longer cared the name of and holds it up, waving it blindly behind her to signal to him that she finally made her decision.

He gives a small grunt of acknowledgement, almost sounding disappointed, and darts his tongue out, sliding it through her slit to rub at her clit a couple times before retreating, tucking it back into his mouth and pressing a sweet wet kiss to the seat of her soaked panties, tasting her through the fabric.

Pulling back, he flips her skirt back down and take the movie from her, giving her a minute to catch her breath since she’d been panting and whining the whole time.

When she’s able to stand again, he smacks her on the ass with the DVD case, handing it back to her.

“Good girl. Now go put this in the DVD player and come sit in my lap. We ain’t finished yet.”

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I can actually give yall a bomb ass ramen recipe if you want it XD. I fuckin love ramen yo lmao.

Also RIP Blockbuster, we bringing them back for this fic :’D.

Warnings: Pre smut? Fondling, (Slight) Spanking, Above Clothes Touching

Tags:@kxnfuzed-blog-blog @sweet-epiphany85 @blackpantherismyish @huuniii  @wawakanda-btch @ljstraightnochaser@bearhuggingbaby@drsunshine97@hearteyes-for-killmonger@maliadestiny @lucidaquarian@theunsweetenedtruth@sicksadgen@louisdimuccis @blackchunkyqueen @ash-moneyy@blowmymbackout @buttercup812 @minkyomom  @softnani @curls-and-crosses @lunaerly @lovemekaycee @uhlxis @blackgirloneshots@thecaptainofamerica @wakandas-vibranium @teheeboo @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@whorderofthepheonix@youreadthatright @killmongerdispussy@cawifornia @tchallamakesmeh0lla @siriuslycollins @panthergoddessbast  @blue-ishx@shesfromwakanda@hearteyes-for-killmonger@amethyst1993@bartierbakarimobisson @whoramilaje @muse-of-mbaku@eriknutinthispoosy@wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @thickoreo@allhailnjadaka@wifeyofnjadaka @hidden-treasures21 @killmvnger@sicksadgen @tgigoldie@killmongersgurl @princessstevens @beautifulqueenflaws @cocooned-butterfly@chaneajoyyy @ange-sensuel@laketaj24 @chasingsunlight @vikkidc@shadowkissedprincessofheart @wakanda-inspired  @taint3dvirgin @blackpinup22

[dragon-ball-meta]

Ohhh boy... -cracks knuckles- Let’s do this, shall we?

30. HIS DESTRUCTO DISC WAS THE STRONGEST KI ATTACK IN THE SERIES How does that not make sense? You’re starting your list off by not even framing your complaints correctly, as your beef isn’t the attack’s power, but that it’s underused. But even that’s explained. In short, the Kienzan takes up a LOT of energy. To form, to get it spinning fast enough, to throw, takes a bit out of the user. It’s also got several drawbacks, including, but not limited to, being quite loud. People can hear it coming and adjust accordingly. One can make a slightly weaker version they can steer, but that reduces its effectiveness.  Really, the Kienzan is only feasible in certain scenarios, at least until Krillin managed to gain the ability to control it without sacrificing power. 29. HE THOUGHT ANDROID 18 WAS DATING HER TWIN BROTHER Uh... ok? I mean I’m not sure how that ‘makes no sense’ but yeah, he made a mistake. Whoops? 28. HIS BODY MEASUREMENTS Bear in mind a few things here. Namely, that while Toriyama does depict these characters as “muscular”, it’s also lean. So the idea he should be ridiculously jacked is also a bit off. I believe the weight estimate also originally came back when the “Z” arcs started, so there’s that. Otherwise, this is probably one of the only legitimate points on this list. 27. THE REASON WHY HE SHAVES HIS HEAD ...again, how does this make no sense? He shaves his head as a sign of dedication to his practice of the martial arts and because he was taught it aided in the flow of ki in one’s body. That’s explained full well. Just because he ASSUMED Roshi shaved his head doesn’t make this not make sense. 26. HIS ABILITY TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL It’s a comedy manga at heart. There’s jokes like this throughout. In Goku’s rematch with Yamcha, Goku hits him so hard that he actually breaks one of the borders between the panels and bounces off of it. It’s a thing in the series. Also, Idk why you’re referencing movies when they’re clearly not part of Toriyama’s continuity, but I’m reasonably certain that “lasted a season” was meant in terms of time passed, not “seasons” of a show. Especially as DB never had “seasons”. 25. HE NEVER TRAINED WITH WITH KING KAI Now this is what annoys me about this article. Y’all will take the anime and even movies into account when making this list... and yet with this complaint, you even have a screenshot of where he trained with King Kai in the anime. Yet you say he didn’t do it. Also, “with all the time he spends in the afterlife”? lol really?  24. HIS HEAD DOTS You... you literally explain this in full. How is this something that makes no sense? Literally how? 23. HIS REDUCED FIGHTING PRESENCE IN THE CELL AND BUU SAGAS Again, you explain this in the first paragraph of this entry. Yet you also talk about his activities in both arcs. So... how does this not make sense other than the fact that complaining about it makes no sense? I mean he still has a role, it’s just primarily non-combat. He carried the meat of the story in the Cell arc. 22. HIS BIZARRE CHILDHOOD "A lot of the pasts and families of Dragon Ball’s characters have been shown before (including Frieza's), but Krillin’s remains a mystery.“ Actually, no. They’re not. By and large, we learn very little about the pasts of any of these characters. We have only the vaguest details about anyone not Goku, Vegeta, Piccolo, or Bulma, discounting the people we actually see born during the series. Kami’s past, even his name, is a complete mystery. Tien? No one knows his background outside being taken in by the Crane Hermit and training alongside Chiaotzu. This is not uncommon. But we actually do know a bit more about Krillin’s past in that he was raised at Orin, and he was abused. Daily. Frequently. It left him with a complex that lasted well into his adult life. He ran away one day in tears, determined he was gonna prove he wasn’t weak or worthless someday. That’s a good sight more than we’d gotten about most characters til recently. 21. HE NEARLY BECAME AN ANDROID You guys are reaching into arcade path endings from video games. Why am I not surprised? 20. HOW HE DEFEATED GOHAN DURING TOURNAMENT OF POWER PREP This is easily one of the worst offenders on this entire list if only because this is very, very easily explained. Hell, it was the point of them doing it. Gohan was operating with the wrong perspective, that Krillin going one on one vs a powerful opponent would, by necessity, be outclassed and overpowered and thus couldn’t be an asset. He was also under the assumption Krillin had gotten much weaker, unaware he was stronger than ever. Couple these things with both the fact that Gohan himself wasn’t near as strong as he used to be, and Krillin simply out-planning Gohan and beating him by using the rules of the arena against him vs trying to actually overpower him, and Gohan losing there makes perfect sense. Krillin simply overwhelmed all his senses, dropped out of sight and detection, and then simply knocked Gohan off-balance and shoved him out of bounds. Simple. Literally nothing hard to understand about that. 19. HE’S THE FIRST PERSON FROM UNIVERSE 7 TO LOSE IN THE TOURNAMENT OF POWER He’s the first one out because he actually ditched the safety of the group strategy and rushes out to rescue his wife, who was nearly eliminated first herself. He then teamed up with her for a bit and even took out a particularly skilled enemy himself by using his head. Then he was tripped out of bounds because he was distracted by (sadly) rare praise. It happens and it’s not indicative of “strength” or “power” at all. 18. HIS BATTLE STRATEGY AGAINST FRIEZA'S SECOND FORM Lord, here we go. Imma say this again: The Kienzan takes a LOT of energy to form and use. Krillin had just thrown like, twenty of them in a row and then had to run at top speed. The odds of him being able to produce a Kienzan in time are slim to none This is why, upon blinding Freeza, he was yelling for Vegeta (who was still FRESH, mind you) to attack Freeza now. But Vegeta was too paralyzed with shock and fear to act. I’d also like to point out that blinding Freeza wouldn’t have been super effective with an attack that Freeza could easily HEAR coming. He heard it at the last minute even over Gohan’s screams of agony, pretty sure he’d have heard it off to the side where it was just them too. 17. HE LEAVES HIS DAUGHTER IN THE CARE OF KIDS Yes. Apprehensively. At the insistence of his wife, who assured him she’d be ok and could take care of herself. Y’all really tried to use this to imply he’s a bad dad, wow. 16. HIS REGRESSIVE PTSD IN THE FOREST OF TERROR I’m not sure if I’m happy someone finally admitted it’s PTSD (#DragonBallAintDeepBro) or pissed off someone called this “regressive”. Wait no, I know exactly what I am, and frankly... WTF is wrong with you? How on God’s green earth is that Regressive? Are you, by the body of this entry, implying PTSD is a thing that exclusively happens to people who aren’t strong or “strong enough”? Either way, you missed the entire point of the episode, which you simultaneously admit was good character development. A development arc hinted at since the Buu arc really, but really kickstarted back in the BoG arc. The Forest of Terror was never about just strength or ability. Truly, the enemies seen there were only as strong or weak as Krillin empowered them to be by his fear and the ki he poured into them as a result. The point is they were a personification of Krillin’s own fears. His self-doubt and self-loathing. The condition was slowly killing him, his confidence was next to nothing, and it was affecting his life. His job. His family. It’s why 18 gave him the kick in the butt to start training again, to try to regain some of his confidence. It’s why Roshi sent them there; he saw the lack of confidence in the man. He saw his student in anguish, hating himself for not being more than what he was, but also fully believing he never could be. That he just wasn’t good enough. It’s why, even when facing enemies that his rational mind KNEW were weaker than himself, to say nothing of dead, he still panicked. His PTSD was triggered, vivid memories of what they’d done to him, the pain he suffered, came rushing back. And removing it was what finally allowed him to reach into his truest potential, and become even stronger than he’d ever been before. I also love the realistic way the series handled the condition, in that even as he tries to improve himself, he still has moments where it starts to kick in and he has to fight it off, will himself not to lose it. His wife knows it too and takes extra care (for the most part) to not let him slip back into it. But he refuses to allow it to control him anymore. How the hell that’s somehow a negative, let alone something that “doesn’t make sense”, is a mystery to me. 15. HIS "FULL POTENTIAL" THAT THE GRAND ELDER NAMEKIAN GURU UNLOCKED How is this really confusing? It simply allows him to tap into potential, power, that was blocked off. There are many factors that can contribute to it, be it limitations on time, plateaus, mental blocks, etc. The Grand Elder removed those and awaken that potential. It’s why Gohan and Krillin started to make the gains that they did at the rate they did, going from only about as strong as Goku had been on Earth to strong enough to help Vegeta overpower and potentially kill Freeza in his first form. 14. HIS YOUNGER CHARACTER TRAITS Y-you do realize you’re literally complaining about character development... right? Krillin grew up in an abusive environment where he felt he could trust no one, everyone was out for themselves, and that he had to do whatever it took to get ahead and be accepted as one of Roshi’s pupils so he had a chance to be... anybody, really. And yes, over time, between the influences of his friends and general maturing and growing up, he became a very kind, compassionate, and caring individual and a true friend. THAT’S. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. And to present these traits as a “mistake” is to somehow suggest they came later. They were his original traits. 13. HIS BULLET INJURIES DURING HIS POLICE JOB Literally explained in Resurrection F, both the arc and the movie. Emptying one’s body of ki leaves it vulnerable. It should be his instinct to do so right away, but he doesn’t. He’s becoming careless and distracted. It’s part of his PTSD. Hell, Goku’s clearly not getting “that weak” and yet he also  got lightly bruised by a bullet because he didn’t keep his energy up, a sign he was falling out of practice due to his inability to find a training partner, or to leave to a place that would really push him in his training due to work. Also, if one being vulnerable to gunfire means they shouldn’t be a police officer, or any like job where there might be danger... well...  That’s dumb, my friend. 12. HE CAN PERFORM THE SPIRIT BOMB AND KAIO-KEN ATTACK Stop using video games to pad your list! SERIOUSLY! And how does “performing the Spirit Bomb” make no sense? Goku and King Kai both instructed him how to do it, and Krillin’s always been especially gifted at both energy manipulation and learning on the fly. Besides, it’s not as if he knows how to summon said energy himself, just wield and form it. 11. HIS ROMANTIC NATURE NEARLY DESTROYED THE EARTH Hot Take Time: Krillin’s decision not to kill 18 stemmed from general compassion, not just the fact that she kissed him, and his decision would have had NO impact on Cell had Vegeta followed through, done what he was supposed to, and killed Cell. Even if Vegeta, by some bizarre chance, failed? Trunks was there, and just as powerful. There were two people there capable of killing Cell. No, what nearly destroyed the Earth was Vegeta’s VERY conscious decision to actually HELP Cell reach his Perfect Form, something Krillin never imagined Vegeta would be stupid and selfish enough to do. And even then, Krillin told her to get lost and hide, and even offered to help her move 16 so she could. 10. HIS EARLY DISMISSAL IN FORTUNETELLER BABA'S TOURNAMENT ...IT’S A COMEDY AND HE GOT HIS WHOLE HEAD BIT INTO BY A VAMPIRE, WHAT’S HARD TO UNDERSTAND? FFS He’s still weaker than even Yamcha at that point. His quick thinking is also all that saved Yamcha’s ass from getting whupped into submission. 9. HE PASSES AWAY THE MOST... EVEN THOUGH HE’S EARTH’S STRONGEST HUMAN Oh lord here we go... a. He wasn’t at the time of his first death. b. That kinda doesn’t mean much when you have to fight an alien lizard or ancient demon who could dust you with their pinky. This only makes no sense if you utterly ignore any and all context. Vegeta, for example, has actually died just as many times as Krillin now (Freeza, Buu, Freeza again)... and he’s the second strongest in the roster. Goku has also technically “died” just as many times now too (Piccolo, Cell, Hit), as well as Piccolo (Nappa, Buu, Freeza).  Mr. Satan and Bulma have died the least of anyone. Hardly an indicator of power. 8. HE LIVED WITH HIS FAMILY AND MASTER ROSHI IN THE KAME HOUSE It’s housed Roshi, Oolong, Krillin, Goku, Yamcha, Umigame AND Launch in the past. Housing Krillin, 18, a baby/toddler, and Roshi is hardly filled to capacity. That said... they move. They move as soon as they can afford their own home, which is shortly after 18 gets her fall money from Mr. Satan. 7. HIS FUSION WITH PICCOLO I’d just like to state for the record that this is literally complaining about a fun drawing Toriyama did of what Krillin and Piccolo would look like Fused. That is all. 6. HE CAN ABSORB SPIRIT BOMBS AND USE THEIR ENERGY Aaand we’re back to video games. 5. HE’S THE STRONGEST HUMAN ON EARTH Ok now this one? This one is utter BS. Krillin outpacing Tien makes perfect sense since it’s been happening since Tien first appeared. When everyone came back for the 23rd Budokai? The gap between those two shrunk. A lot. Krillin had not only taught HIMSELF how to fly, how to steer energy after firing it, and more, but he’d improved to the point of Piccolo not only using his true power to beat him, but he managed to survive a blow Piccolo assumed HAD to have killed him... and made Piccolo question whether or not he was even strong enough to conquer this world even if he DID beat Goku. When the Saiyans came? Even smaller gap with the exact same time to train. And Tien even had the benefit of having Chiaotzu as a partner, Krillin was off finishing his training solo. And the Grand Elder awakening his dormant potential, as well as the combat experience on Namek, finally sealed the deal. After all, Yamcha was still intently training at that time too, and Krillin surpassed him. Why then is it so hard to believe he could surpass Tien? It also doesn’t help that Tien doesn’t actually train nonstop, despite what anime filler would have you believe. He runs a dojo and a farm to boot. Tien is also demonstrably still weaker than Krillin in Super and lasts longer in the Tournament because he and Roshi are taking cover and surprising targets to knock them out while they’re off-guard. So there’s that. 4. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EXCITING FOIL TO BORING GOKU He was created as a rival character to play off Goku and give Goku something to measure himself against. That doesn’t exactly mean he’s meant to be “more exciting”, but to bring an element of entertainment to the series that had been missing, as well as give Goku someone his own age to grow with. Nice dig at the character at the end though. Top notch. 3. HE NAMES HIS DAUGHTER AFTER HIS EX-GIRLFRIEND For the last time: Maron. Is. A. Filler. Character. Toriyama did not create her. Toriyama did not name her. Toriyama named Krillin’s daughter “Marron” because it’s French for “Chestnut”, which is a play on the fact that the first syllable in Krillin’s Japanese name, “Kuri”, also means chestnut. It’s not at ALL indicative of “lingering feelings” for a character that Toriyama didn’t even make, let alone doesn’t appear in his manga or continuity at all. 2. HE NEARLY ALLOWS VEGETA TO GAIN IMMORTALITY Well, it was more or less that or let the kid he’d sworn he’d keep safe die. I don’t really blame him for at least entertaining the idea at that point. An ultimately bad idea? Yeah. But one born of desperation. Hardly the first for characters in this series. And finally... 1. HIS MISSING NOSE ...wow. It’s... it’s a physical deformity. I’m not sure what about that doesn’t make sense? This list was even more of a dumpster fire than usual.

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Storyboard by: Vince Aparo, Emmy Cicirega, Ben Holm

Directed by: Tanner Johnson

Part 2 of the big catch-up!

The episode begins with the Ottoman Empire. No, not that one, Djinn, it's the TV-show-within-a-TV-show. In this episode, one of the hosts tries to host by himself, rebelling against his co-host who thinks he can not. He then forgets the half of the slogan his co-host usually says.

Outside of one more cameo of the show, which I will get to later, this gag only appears in this opening. I assume this is just a "character watches something on TV with a cheap gag" opener.

That character being Louie, who is moping on the couch. Scrooge offers him some misprinted business cards he can easily permanent marker into Louie Inc. cards. Not only does Louie not know what a business card is, because those kids and their social media, but he wants to give up this whole Louie Inc. thing. There were five people in line at the patent office, and that obstacle was enough to make him give up. "Classic Louie", even Louie himself says.

Scrooge is not going to accept that, and decides to tell him a story in an attempt to get his determination back. Really, this is all just a framing device for an old-timey story about grit and determination. Even Louie knows it, as that's a direct quote from him. Not the framing device part, anyway; this episode's fourth wall breaks are far more subtle.

The real story starts back when the Old West was the current west, in a small town called Gumption. A young Scrooge McDuck, with his unfailing sense of where gold is, bought a plot of land that may contain a large amount of gold. He was starving but determined, and he wants to claim his destiny.

He finds a small gold nugget in the rocks, a clear sign that something much, much bigger must be nearby. He grabs his stick of dynamite, and quickly climbs up the ladder, only for a part of the ladder to break, causing him to fall right into an explosion.

Of course, he survives, I wouldn't have wanted that twist. However, he does get his foot caught in the rubble. However, unlike a certain person in real life or a certain moon dweller in the universe I'm looking over, at least he had his pickaxe within reach. He does get some additional help from an oddly familiar fellow.

Oddly Familiar Fellow: Howdy, friend!

Meet Sheriff Marshall Cabrera, clearly either Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera's grandfather or another relative of that sort. It's cool to see that the Cabrera family line has always been about justice, whether it be a robotic superhero, a police officer, or, in this character's case, a town sheriff. A sheriff named Marshall; they do make a joke about that.

He says that he wants to let all the prospectors know that a big-shot is coming to bring fortune to Gumption. Ignoring the big-shot, Scrooge is more ticked about how he referred to a plural amount prospectors when he's the only one. Turns out, it’s a two prospector town now! He marches towards a tent, preparing to wallop whoever this guy is, and then, right behind his back...

Goldie O'Gilt: Hootie-hoo, Scroogie!

Scrooge: Of course.

Goldie O'Gilt, his long time ex-rival, ex-partner, and pain in the tail, followed Scrooge in an attempt to steal whatever loot he gets. Scrooge is not happy about this new turn in this plot.

Louie shares that unhappiness, though for different reasons. He thinks this is just going to turn into more "old people love". A lot of the humor of the episode consists of commentary from Louie. Scrooge still denies any sort of romantic tension between them, though he can't disagree that there isn't any hand-holding...

...it's just not the kind Louie was talking about. Because that interruption wasn't enough, Louie then complains about all the prospector slang they're using. As much as the interruptions sometimes interrupts the flow of the story, we do get to hear David Tennant say “you’re killing my vibe, dude!” I could see that as how Scrooge thinks the young'ns talk. Thankfully, Louie changes his mind about that, and lets the story continue.

They both decide to compete to see which one is going to get the gold first. Making matters worse for Scrooge is that Goldie bought all of the dynamite. They work day and night, though we only see her using the dynamite at night. Not sure if that means she's just confident enough to use the Tortoise and the Hare strategy, and didn't read to the end of that fable.

In the end, it turns out to be a three-way tie.

No, that's not a typo, another potential rival comes in and grabs the giant nugget with a far stronger grasp due to using a mobile crane. Continuing the trend of bringing comic characters to animation for the first time, this rival turns out to be the first animated appearance of John D. Rockerduck. Really rich with money, but not rich with kindness.

Case in point, he shakes the hand of his fellow prospector, and then immediately takes off the gloves and asked if they would be burned. Already from the beginning, he shows himself as a rather despicable being, but don't tell that to the town and their sheriff. This was the big shot he was talking about, and he's going to use what he christens the "Rockerduck Nugget" to make the town wealthy.

Obviously, Scrooge is not too happy about yet another prospector coming to town to steal what he would christen the "McDuck Nugget". Goldie throws fuel to the fire by talking about how legendary Scrooge is, leading to some good ol' fashioned fisticuffs.

Rockerduck is definitely far less jokey than, say, Glomgold, but him attempting to fight Scrooge is probably his funniest moment. Sheriff Marshall breaks up the fight before anyone gets seriously hurt.

Of course, this is all just a plan to distract the other two while she steals what she might call the Goldie Nugget and the mobile crane. Unfortunately, she gets stopped by Jeeves, Rockerduck’s bodyguard, assistant, and wearer of silver teeth. Man, these reboots really love parodies of Jaws from the James Bond films. He's not much of a talker, never mind an answerer of questions.

...wow, I'm old.

Unfortunately, the law is the law, and Scrooge and Goldie are put behind bars. This seems like the usual cliche of the innocent heroes getting framed while the true bad guy gets away with it, but they did just commit assault and grand theft auto, respectively. Even Goldie admits they would have been better off if the sheriff was crooked. Granted, him owning the town probably skewed the scales a bit. Suddenly, that rebellious host of Ottoman Empire shows up and teases the conclusion will happen after the break!

It turns out, Louie turned on the TV, much to Scrooge's chagrin, and he tries to defend himself by saying he was trying to record it later. As much as I want to say that this interruption just takes up some time, there is one little thing I do like about it: we actually see him quickly hit the record button. It was clearly not his intention.

However, another character does seemingly invade the story, and it's not because of Louie.

This "nameless stranger" happened to be hiding under the sheets of the bunk bed. It may as well be the same Gyro Gearloose from the present...because it is due to some time travel shenanigans, though he denies it to the onlookers. I did look it up, Gyro Gearloose did have a world-travelling grandfather in the comics, but they decided to go with him time-travelling to the past. Maybe they felt it would be too coincidental to have every grandparent just show up in this plot, and there's a few other reasons, too.

One of the big reasons is that he comes with the knowledge that history will paint Rockerduck as a crook, swindling every city he said he would help.

Sheriff Marshall doesn't believe this strange man, by saying Rockerduck made a lot of cities rich, and then names all of his previous towns. With each finger he pulls up, his expression changes to show that those towns probably didn't get that much philanthropy. Usually, the saying is show and not tell, but I think this telling is powerful. After realizing this, he decides to let them go, and even joins them in their quest to, well, let's let Scrooge say it.

Scrooge: The outlaw Scrooge McDuck has a train to rob!

Ooh, just like the title!

Gyro, or that nameless stranger to everyone else here, also brings the knowledge of building rocket horses out of wood. He tried to make some organic ones with actual horses, but we see that those didn't turn out so well. It's funnier than it sounds, trust me.

Scrooge and Goldie decide to put on disguises to make them look more like upper-class citizens. Goldie thinks Scrooge can’t pull off a rich man look, but with a top hat and cane stolen from the Mayor, he looks the part. This almost leads to a big romantic scene. Keyword: almost, as she praises that it covers the bald spot. It’s a running gag that lasts throughout the episode, and the last one featuring Goldie, come to think of it. It is practically a relationship trait in itself.

With the help of those rocket horses, Scrooge and Goldie are able to catch the train. The Sheriff completely believes that ordinary horses could have easily caught up with the train, too, but Gyro's response is that he's irritatingly familiar.

We see Rockerduck commanding the people on the train to laugh at his selfish acts, and having Jeeves throw someone off the train for questioning them. You know, just in case anyone didn't know he was evil. Scrooge and Goldie have to steal a key to the boxcar that contains the nugget, but it's currently hanging on Rockerduck's suit. What does Goldie do?

She asks the piano player to play a new song she makes up on the fly. In the middle, she pretends to flirt with Rockerduck, pushing aside Scrooge at the same time. Then, she tells Scrooge to hurry up, using that command as lyrics to her song. There's some great bits in there.

Thanks to this song and dance, Scrooge manages to get the key without anyone noticing. That song proved to be a good distraction for everyone outside of one minor exception.

Meanwhile, Gyro and Sheriff Marshall try to operate Gyro’s rocket horse and buggy, which I assume is what was supposed to carry that nugget, and the untrained sheriff accidentally makes it blow up instead. This knocks out Gyro.

If you’re wondering how Scrooge would know about this, you’re not alone, as Louie, after a long time after the Ottoman Empire gag, gets to interrupt the story again pointing out that very plot hole! Scrooge's response?

Scrooge: Look who’s suddenly invested.

Louie: It's just...ugh, Just keep going!

Yes, please keep going.

Back to the story, Sheriff Marshall accidentally stumbles backwards, getting his hand stuck in a wooden gauntlet. That wooden gauntlet ends up guiding him into the background. One big hint of what's going on: he says "Blathering Blatherskite". I guess that was a family tradition that goes back, too.

Just as soon as they get into the boxcar with the nugget, that one minor exception shows up. Scrooge tries to give this overly large guy a wallop, and he does about as well as one might expect. This was apparently before he learned how to use a cane, after all.

Just before we get a Jeeves Punch, Scrooge Down, he manages to get punched through the door by...a superhero?

Marshall is back, wearing a superpowered suit that turns him into...okay, they never really give Steam-Powered GizmoDuck a name. If he does have a name, he does not have a chance to say it as he loses control as soon as he starts carrying the nugget.

Even that wooden punch didn't do too much to Jeeves, as he just picks them both back up. I guess if Gyro and his inventions did too much, he would mess up the entire time stream. To quote young Donald in Last Christmas!...

Young Donald: Did you ever see any movie?!

Anyway, since fighting him is out of the question, Scrooge decides to appeal to the lower-class bouncer that he is. He tells him that Rockerduck doesn’t care about him, and he should do what is right. With that nugget of truth, he decides to let them go.

Then again, giving him that little actual nugget of gold from the beginning of the story probably helped without. It's nice to see something from the beginning be a major part in the end. They are thrown onto to the golden nugget that WoodenDuck is carrying, and Rockerduck looks at this, and pretty much just shrugs it off. They only defeated one of his schemes, anyway.

Unfortunately, the GizmoDuck of the past is just as prone to overheating, as it overheats and begins to self-destruct. To indirectly keep Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera from disappearing, he jumps out of the suit as it carries the nugget right over a gulch.

The suit explodes, with the golden nugget. Scrooge begins to open his mouth, and it immediately cuts to Louie yelling a big no. This is the first genuine reaction out of Louie that isn't boredom or nitpicking. How fitting of Louie's character.

Thankfully, the pieces of the nugget that washed in the gulch went right back to Gumption, much to the joy of the townsfolk. Everything turned out alright; Goldie managed to deck Scrooge in the face and get most of the gold, the townspeople are happy, and even Gyro managed to get back to his home time with a bathtub time machine. I wonder how that came to be; maybe he'll make a movie about it.

As for Scrooge, while he was not necessarily happy with this ending, he did manage to make a panning venture out of it. That venture did lead to a war, but this is the part where Louie decides to just tell him to stop. Louie wanted a happy ending, but to Scrooge, money-making ventures never end.

In the end, Scrooge asks Louie how he wants to make his fortune. He could be a con-man like Rockerduck, be a shifty operator like Goldie, or be an industrious self-made man like his Uncle Scrooge. His answer to this is this episode's big teaser, and it certainly fits Louie's rebellious character.

...wait, is that what the Ottoman Empire joke from the beginning was alluding to? We are just going to have to wait and see.

How does it stack up?

Definitely liked this episode better than the episode with her first appearance, and while it's not necessarily because of Goldie, she doesn't detriment the episode. I would love to see more stories like this, maybe without the Louie commentary, though I wouldn't say he ruined the episode either. How best to say this episode wasn't ruined. How about this?

Next, Scrooge actually losing money?

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