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yume-fanfare · 4 years

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hi i am that anon from like 29th Dec (last dang year) who said i read ur tsuki no hime and loved it and that u understand Aizou. i have read more of ur stuff since then and now i NEED to ask you for writing advice, on both characterization and general writing tips since I didnt mention it before. Sorry about that! i just forgot i sent an ask and i do not get notifs at all (or does anon asks not get notifs?) Also, ART STUDENT! That's why the nice art and art leaning!! I feel smart for sensing it

oh yup, tumblr doesn't send notifs for anon asks! but i'm glad you did see the answer anyway

this post is hideously long, so answer under the cut!

so, on characterization: it is mostly a matter of what would they say, rather than what you want them to say. the joke about "the characters do what they want to" instead of what the writer wants is pretty much true if you want them to be in character lol (that's why sometimes a little bit of OoC isn't too bad)

checking the source material is the most important thing: look at prior similar interactions the characters have had and how they reacted

this is kind of hard with LIPxLIP, as there aren't that many translated texts about them but with honeyworks the most canon and reliable thing to use as reference are the mvs. the mvs are drawn in a way that can pretty much be understood even if you don't have the lyrics, and sometimes it's even better if you can't read them, to properly focus on the images better

look at their expressions closely: while aizou is always explosive in his anger, yuujirou often has a more indifferent expression. so, when they fight, aizou is probably the one to blow up first while yuujirou maintains his composure better. it's kind of the classic "this was only a brief passing panel but i am going to expand on it" www

but the thing about fanfiction is that it's always a bit of a character analysis in itself. you don't start writing having already a color-coded folder of possible situations and reactions a character would have for each setting. you just throw the characters in a scenario and then think from there onwards, and eventually you'll be able to have the folder of situations and what you think their reactions would be like. (though, this links back to the prior point, if the characters have gone through a similar situation in canon, use that as guide! plus, finding little references to canon when reading is always fun)

for general writing, i'm going to mostly talk about my own experiences and process! i'm in no way a professional though

the basic is reading a lot. not just books but also fanfic. in fact, since you're writing fanfic, i Encourage you to read fanfic. even if your story ends up novel length, the way of treating the story is different from that of an actual novel. for example, because you're working under the premise that everyone knows the characters already. the general style of fics is different as well.

in fact, the style is the main reason i'm saying this slfkslfkslkf

read a lot of stuff and find a style you like. think of it as sewing together pieces from here and there to make a frankenstein amalgamation: this person's metaphors, the comparisons from here, the descriptions from there

personally, i adore the "long one-shot with a long title formatted (like this)" fics that are mostly feelings and descriptions and as little dialogue as possible, and some that occasionally play with the "show don't tell" rule, and some months ago i read a book whose descriptions amazed me because you could feel what the character was focusing on the most, rather than being general descriptions of the situation (i actually have a lot of thoughts about descriptions but that's a post for another day). but also i really like dialogue and plot-driven stories, descriptions can get boring and before trying to break rules, you have to be really good at following them

but, let's go step by step: developing an idea

for this i'm going to mostly reference the multichap i finished a while ago as an example

i started with just a few vague concepts in mind: non-idol au with aizou who does some sport and likes music but is insecure about his singing and yuujirou who does some music related thing and encourages him to sing in a way that's somehow related to the hozier song to noisemaking (sing), because it's what inspired me to write in the first place

then, from then onwards i wrote down what would happen in the first chapter of the story bullet-point-list-style, including things like the roommates part or the clubs the boys were in (at first yuujirou was in the choir club lol the change was a last second decision that idk why i took) and then bits of dialogue here and there that would be The Turning Points. those first dialogues were for the fight at the end of ch 1, the apology-date in ch 3 and then some vaguely unused ones for the "yuujirou encourages aizou" part, as those were the first key moments i thought of

because, since it's enemies to friends to lovers, an important aspect was character development

not all fics have character development bc not all of them are long enough (if you're aiming for short and sweet then there's no need). but if they do, i recommend you write down how the character was at the beginning of the story and then how they were at the end and then fill in the middle later, think of what those key turning points that made the character change were (the more little things you add, the more gradual it'll be)

samishigariya illustrates this very nicely: the song starts and finishes with the same lines, but the ending ones feel more light-hearted. the beginning has pre-arisa ken and pre-getting-along-with-yuujirou aizou, when they were the lonely people the title mentioned, and the ending, when they're not lonely anymore. the in between can be seen in depth during the other songs: ken before arisa was a playboy who didn't take love seriously, but after meeting her he realized that games were not all there was to love; and aizou used to be quite cranky and high-key a loner, but then he "meets precious things and knows of love". i will not elaborate on that because this isn't an aiyuu post but Oh You Know

for the fic, aizou would go through that same process, more or less: someone who doesn't really form meaningful connections with people but who, in the end, would end up having quite a bunch of people who care about him as his relationship with yuujirou advances too

since the relationship was the main focus, i wrote a very simple outline for how it would develop throughout 5 hypothetical chapters that was just: 1. civil w each other but mostly bad > 2. bad > 3. half friends > 4. pining > 5. date

and then with that in mind and the bullet point list, the final basic outline ended up like this:

there were scraped ideas and ideas that made it in later, but i believe having a simple outline, a bare skeleton to add things to, is important. stories need continuity, development requires a prior buildup

it's especially important in multichapter fics where you post as you write, you need to have a more or less clear idea of what's going to happen because you can't ignore scenes you've already posted

shorter stories don't need it as much, you can think as you go, but it's still helpful to know where you're going with things to avoid getting stuck

and, on getting stuck: don't be afraid of deleting things. if you can't figure out how to continue things, then delete the situation and start again. it might feel like you'd be wasting time but in the end, it is so much better than being stuck on the same scene for weeks

in fact, you don't have to write in order. jump to the next scene and you'll figure it out later. you Can write the scene you want to write and then build everything else around it

it's normal to write a scene and then realize it would make more sense later in the story, or that it would be better if you added another scene earlier, or sometimes you just find it easier to jump from one part of the story to another. rely on your outline to keep track of what you've written, what you have left to write and what's the best way to arrange your story. make your story understandable

which bring us to editing

there's a lot of much better posts on editing stories, but yeah ctrl+f is your best friend: don't repeat yourself too much. and be sure to vary sentence and paragraph length, as well as sentence structure, to give dynamism to the writing

now, i've mentioned before the show, don't tell rule, but i'm going to talk a bit more about it because it's quite important

once again there's a lot of posts that explain more in depth what it is, so i'm not going to expand too much on that, but, very basically, try to avoid things like "then some time passed and they became friends". explain it: what happened exactly? how did they become friends? if it's important, show it to us, instead of summarizing

since things like these make the story longer, it also gives room for more development and proper explanation for things that happen

for example, the fic was originally going to start with them already in the room, and the whole situation would have been explained in a single paragraph somewhere, but by actually adding the scene where they first arrive to the dorms and argue with the lady at the main desk, the story flows better and it let me actually describe their first meeting

and uuuhhh i think that's all? this took super long to write i hope i didn't forget any super basic stuff lol

i want to add that for enemies to lovers i greatly recommend this post bc it's super good but yeah i think that's basically it, if you have any more specific questions just shoot me an ask

#god this is so long #how should i tag this #tutorials #i guess #anonymous #preguntas

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warriorlid14 · 5 years

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For the fic summary ask game, when you have time - Ron/Neville, "everybody wants to pass as cats" (song reference is Mr Jones and Me, the previous line is "we all want to be lions," and every song which makes any mention of a lion of any kind needs go be referenced in an hp fic title)

Oh man, that quotes gives me “I am going to pretend to be strong” and “I am definitely Okay, Just Fine” vibes, SO: set after the war, Ron and Hermione have decided they’re better off as friends

Two months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron shows up at Neville’s door. He’s sheepish, and a bit ashamed that he hasn’t sent him an owl to see how he’s doing. Or Luna or Dean or Seamus. Hermione has, and he’s told her to say hi on his behalf, and he’s seen them in the dozens of funerals or ministry events but he never really talked to them, instead exchanging “this sucks” glances. So he feels a little bad. But he’s also pants at herbology and needs a favor.

“George needs this ingredient for a few of his products. It’s the toxins of the leaf, see? But neither of us knows how to grow it or gather it without bollixing it up. Fred was better at herbology.” He’s mastered the skill of saying his brother’s name now without a flicker of pain on his face. “So I was thinking. Maybe you could teach me?”

Neville agrees, of course, and informs him that it’ll take three weeks, and that he can just get him the ingredient himself if he wants. Ron shakes his head, and says that he wants to learn, so Neville tells him he’ll have to come every other day because this particular plant is high-maintenance.

The first couple of times Ron comes over are a little awkward. They don’t talk much. Nobody has been doing much besides dealing with the aftermath of this war, and it sucks and it’s depressing and so they don’t talk. Until the third time he comes over and Neville is carrying around this bucket of muck to throw out. But then he trips and pours it all over Ron. And Neville is red in the face and apologizing profusely. And in that minute he reminds Ron so much of his awkward, clumsy, but sweet friend. And Neville is still beet-red and it’s crazy to think that this is the same kid who slayed Voldemort’s last horcrux right in front of him. And it’s not that funny. But Neville’s face is, and Ron’s sure his face is too, and suddenly he’s laughing, uncontrollably so, and then Neville is laughing, too. They must look ridiculous, laughing so loud and for so long and covered in mud and leaves, and it’s really not that funny. But this might be the most he’s laughed since the funerals, and the Battle, and Harry’s resurrection, and Fred’s death, and Malfoy Manor, and that fucking locket. And that’s such a depressing thought that he laughs even harder.

And just like that, the tension breaks. There is still some silence. But it’s comfortable, and peaceful, and there’s something cathartic about mindlessly helping Neville pull weeds that have gathered around his garden. And sometimes they talk. Not about the war, but they don’t exactly avoid it either. They talk about friends and what they’re up to, and about old times, and about that mythology book that Luna won’t stop talking about and about that series that Hermione is watching with her parents as a bonding exercise. And Ron finds that when he makes a joke, he actually means it around Neville and isn’t just forcing one out. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Neville the way it isn’t anymore around Harry and Hermione and especially his family. At least he doesn’t have to force a conversation around Neville. And it’s horrible to think about, and he hates that it’s true. But when Neville brings out a small vial of the toxin he extracted three weeks later, Ron feels something in his stomach churn.

So this is it, then. It’s a bit ridiculous, how attached he’s become to their herbology lessons over such a short time. But the thing is, he can breathe here. He can just be. And it’s ridiculous because he’s fine. He’s fine. It’s Harry who literally died and Hermione who was tortured and Fred who was killed and his parents who lost a son and George who lost a twin. And it’s selfish, so horribly selfish of him to enjoy being away from them like he has. To be laughing and joking around with his friend like everyone’s life hadn’t been ruined. But he doesn’t have to worry about Neville blowing up on him and he doesn’t have to force him to eat or force himself to smile or make a joke when all he wants to do is scream in order to make Neville feel better.

He’s a shit friend and son and brother, he knows.

So he mutters a thank you and grabs the vial, and he’s about to say his goodbyes, when Neville says, “I’ve been wanting to try some muggle gardening for a while. Do you want to help?”

And there’s something about the way Neville smiles at him, all bright eyes and dimples that makes Ron’s heart skip a beat. He smiles back and says, “Sure.”

And so for the next three weeks, Ron stops by during his lunch break to help. And damn, if it isn’t almost therapeutic. The whole heart-skipping-a-beat thing happens twice more, but Ron Doesn’t Think About It. Nor does he think about how stops himself from smiling like an idiot whenever Neville laughs at his jokes. Nor about how he almost dropped the shovel he was holding when Neville grabbed his arm once.

One day, Ron makes a very-offhand and totally not a big deal comment about this muggle restaurant Hermione was talking about and how they have specials every Thursday and how maybe they should go check it in a couple of days. And Ron doesn’t understand why his heart almost wants to jump out of his chest or why he’s terrified that Neville will say no. It’s just a friendly lunch.

Right.

But then Neville says, in a hesitant voice. “Actually, I was going to tell you... On Thursday we’re starting to fix up the east wing of school, so I’ll probably be staying longer because we need to assess the damage. I was going to ask, if maybe you wanted to...” His voice trails off and Ron’s mouth suddenly feels dry.

“I can help.” But his voice sounds strange to his own ears, and his heart is beating wildly in his chest, and not in the good way he had started to associate with Neville.

Neville looks startled at this, and says, “I was going to say that maybe we skip Thursday and you can continue helping me on Friday.”

“Why? You don’t think I’ll be useful? I can help.” He didn’t know why he was still talking or why he sounded so defensive, and he absolutely shut down the part of his mind that wanted to agree with Neville.

“That’s not what I meant. Ron, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.”

And that was that. The rest of the day and the next were awkward, but on Thursday, Ron took the day off from WWW and apparated to Hogsmede in the morning. Neville looked surprised to see him, and Ron was annoyed because he was fine. Just Fine. He could handle being at Hogwarts again like everyone else rebuilding it. Nevermind that none of the Weasleys had stepped foot in the castle since the battle.

And he was fine. Within the first few hours. But then he and Neville and two hufflepuffs turned on a corner and Ron stopped breathing. All he could see was a fallen wall and his brother on the floor. And he could hear Percy wailing and the battle still raging. And he heard someone calling his name, but he wasn’t breathing. And he smelled the stench of blood and his was breathing in dirt and debris again and Fred’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing and he never would again and-

He felt himself being pulled from the arm and dragged away, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor and fought desperately to stop the tears from coming.

When he finally looks up, he sees he’s in an old classroom and Neville has a concerned look on his face. He still hasn’t let go of his arm, and Ron is glad for this.

“That’s where Fred died.” There’s no emotion in his voice, and Neville gives him a sad smile.

Then he sits right next to him, so close that their arms are brushing, takes his hand, and says, “Stop me if you want to talk.” Then he launches off into a story about the time he fell into a river when he was six, and then about the time he saw a unicorn when he was eight, and about all the times he and Luna would stay up after hours on Hogwarts grounds and talk about the different shapes they saw in the starry sky.

Ron let his head fall on Neville’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and let the tears fall freely down his face. He wasn’t listening to his words, but his voice was comforting, and he let it and the hand holding his tightly anchor him to the present.

Eventually, Neville stopped talking, and they sat there in silence. Ron didn’t know how much time passed before he lifted his head and said, “I’m okay now. I’m okay.”

Neville smiled that same sad smile and said, “I know. But you don’t have to be all the time, you know that?”

Ron nodded, and smiled back.

“So... do you want to talk about it?”

“Not now, but... Another day.” And Ron was surprised that he actually meant it. Neville squeezed his hand in return.

A few days before Neville went back to Hogwarts and Ron started auror training, they went to that restaurant. Not as a date. But when Ron leaned in to kiss the side of his mouth where there was a bit of chocolate on the corner, he couldn’t stop smiling when Neville kissed him back.

...

Was that supposed to be a summary?? OOPS. I had to cut it short because I have to run.

#lytefoot #ask game #warriorlid writes #nevron #ronnev #ron weasley #harry potter

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ick25 · 5 years

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Top 5 worst Megaman Nt Warrior episodes.

(Only the first two seasons, not counting Axess)

I’ve been reviewing the original versions of the episodes from Megaman Nt Warrior AKA the Rockman.EXE anime. My reviews are just for fun because I love to talk about the things a like, but even my favorite anime isn’t without its flaws, so I want to talk about the worst episodes from the first two seasons of Rockman.EXE and why I think they are bad.

5. Episode 13, “Burning Hot Net Battle.”

Ah yeah, the episode were Netto almost dies from over exposure. This episode is about Rockman and Fireman’s tournament battle, where Hinoken cheats by infecting the dome’s computers with viruses to power up Fireman.

The episode actually had good animation, the battle was well executed and interesting, but the real problem was in the writing. By focusing more on the battle, there was little effort put into the rest of the story, as in, having the story make sense. They ignore the fact that they are supposed to be in a tournament where millions of people are watching the battle. We know Hinoken and Fireman are dirty cheaters and they need to use tricks in order to defeat Rockman who was kicking their ass in the beginning of the episode, but here is the thing, NOBODY IN THE TOURNAMENT REALIZED HE WAS CHEATING WHEN IT WAS OBVIOUS!

True, very few people know the identity of the WWW members, but it was so obvious that Fireman was taking advantage of the situation to power up. Everyone just thought it was some random virus infecting the solar energy computer AND the environmental shutters causing the dome to turn into a giant sauna.

Another problem was what the tournament did in that situation, NOTHING! They had no reason to have the match continue, if the people inside were in danger the tournament would’ve been held responsible for not doing anything about it, specially if the heat is worse in the battle arena where one of the competitors, who is a minor, loses consciousness. I get it, this was to make the episode more exciting, but it doesn’t feel like it when the world around them is incompetent, it just feels unrealistic and makes children believe that adults don’t know any better. Having Rockman almost deleted by someone cheating in front of millions of people who didn’t notice that is infuriating.

4. Episode 39, “Pretty Pretty Princess.”

This episode introduces Princess Pride from Creamland. The princess disguises herself as a boy named Poipu so she can go sightseeing in Japan without having her bodyguards catch her.

The entire episode had a low budget animation with a lot of still images and slow action scenes compared to other episodes of the season. The writing wasn’t very good either; the first half of the episode has Poipu and Netto running away from her bodyguards, the amusement park scene has Netto and his friends helping her escape without asking any questions, which feels rush and absurd.

The worst part of the episode is near the end. Yes, I’m talking about the scene where Pride and Netto finally have their Net Battle at some weird location that had a giant crank game in the background that actually works. Even though I spend an entire paragraph talking about how that giant crank game didn’t make any sense, that is not my only problem with this part. The problem is the poor execution of the battles, one of the reasons I watch the show is because I want to see Rockman fight the bad guys. Since the action in the animation was lacking, the battle wasn’t satisfying.

The fight between Rockman and Knightman was pretty decent, but once Shadowman appeared, it all went downhill. First Shadowman gets Netto out of the way by using the crank machine, and then immobilizes Rockman very easily with his giant shuriken. Not only that, but instead of fighting Knightman, Shadowman summons some Ninjy viruses to attack him. This was part of three weird episodes were Shadowman returns to try to delete Rockman, and occasionally someone new he befriends, but has someone or something else to do the job for him. Why? When Shadowman first appeared in episode 33 we see that he is an actual threat, a very dangerous Navi that if it wasn’t for the rare Battle Chips Netto sent to Rockman, who knows what might’ve happen, but the way they defeat Shadowman in this episode was very easy, he just runs away after they delete the virus with “Team work.” They could’ve done a better job with the idea of a ninja hired to eliminate the hero and failing at the end, but instead they just make Shadowman look like a coward who can’t fight.

3. Episode 52, “Secret of the house of Ayanokouji.”

Though this episode had some funny parts, it was a huge waste of time. This was never aired outside of Japan, probably because it was just filler, it got boring after a while and we don’t get to see Rockman or any action scene until the end.

The plot was that all of the PETs were stolen by a crazy automatic vacuum cleaner, and Netto and friends chase it around Yaito’s mansion while avoiding all of the ridiculous traps that have been set there for generations. It has always been a running gag that Yaito is stupidly rich to the point that she can buy almost every crazy thing in existence to help the group in their adventures, but this episode focuses on that and nothing else, they take a simple gag and make an entire episode around it.

Yaito is not the most likable character of the show and we certainly don’t care about her family’s history suddenly having a love hate relationship with the Ijuuin family. All that comes from this episode is the introduction to one of Yaito’s maids that looks a like a child but is probably an adult since that is a classic anime trope, and she isn’t even important, she was just the butt of a bad joke that is never mentioned again in future seasons.

Rockman only gets a few lines and a short encounter with a security program and that’s it, the action in this part was non-existing, he just knocks the program out after avoiding his attacks. Even after this, Rockman’s scene didn’t even matter because the silly maid immediately activates the mother of all stupid gags, destroying any hope I had for this episode.

2. Episode 48, “The cybernetic monster.”

This episode is the first appearance of the Gospel beast, a cybernetic monster that has been consuming Navis all over the world in order to grow and eventually destroy the cyberworld; but it has the worst pacing I have ever seen in an anime! Nearly 15 minutes of pointless filler before the plot kicks in. If it wasn’t for the first scene where Airman is absorbed by Gospel, and the title card, I would’ve thought that the episode was about Higure and Masa competing for Mariko-sensei’s affection. Their attempts have absolutely nothing to do with the plot and not only does it happen once, but twice. Thankfully, their second attempt was edited out of the american dub.

Not only the pacing, but the animation was terrible as well, it was so bad that it made some scenes confusing, you couldn’t really tell what happened or why it happened, and the action was slow and boring.

Introducing the Gospel Beast is a big deal, and they could’ve written something better instead of wasting so much time.

Some “honorable” mentions.

Episode 41, “The good dog Rush.”

This episode was very silly, Navis turning into cats was really weird to watch in the dub, but in Japanese, it is actually funny and cute. Excluding the parts with Rush and his new ability to materialize in the real world, seeing Rockman and his friends with their original voices saying Nya all the time wasn’t that bad. I guess we are just so use to hearing Iceman with an old man voice and Rockman as a surfer dude/teen hero that the cat puns feel embarrassing and out of place. Even though I hate Rush, I can’t include this episode just because of that, it actually made me laugh in some parts.

Episode 16, “Miracle Net Navis.”

I want to point out that this episode might have a slow animation and a lot of design mistakes- like the consistent one where they color Bombman’s eyes purple- but that doesn’t automatically make it a bad episode. This is an example of how using a slow pacing or animation can make an episode work. The episode introduces Bombman and Stoneman AKA the independent Net Navis, they claim to be invincible and they demonstrate this in their tag battle against Gutsman and Woodman. The pacing in the battle was nothing special, but that contributes to the main idea. Having Bombman and Stoneman barely move in the battle not only saves money in animation, but it also demonstrates how Woodman and Gutsman’s attacks are slow and weak against them since they couldn’t move their opponents only to have the very next episode increase the speed when it was Rockman and Sharkman’s turn to fight. The superior animation of episode 17 shows that Rockman and Sharkman are stronger than Woodman and Gutsman because they actually force the independent Navis to move during their battle, creating a good contrast between the two episodes.

Episode 8, “Fireman’s revenge.”

Meiru’s character in this season wasn’t the best, especially in this episode where she was very unlikable. Fireman seeks Rockman for revenge and creates a series of high temperature incidents around the city to get his attention, but this only results in Meiru having her hair ruined which led to Netto laughing at her. Netto laughing at her wan’t nice, but Meiru is the one who went too far by deleting his homework just because of that, something that can cost him school. Roll also has a fight with Rockman but doesn’t do anything bad to him in return.

Fireman appears to give Roll a letter so she can deliver it to Rockman, but after reading it out of curiosity, she finds out that Fireman was responsible for ruining Meiru’s hair. She tells Meiru about this and they decide to take Netto’s place to get revenge on both of them.

Meiru’s pride in this episode made her unlikable and she never even apologizes to Netto afterwards, in fact, Netto doesn’t apologize either, they just end the episode arguing again because Netto doesn’t want to admit that he was worried about her and Meiru gets mad at this.

Just because a character is unlikable in an episode, doesn’t make it a bad one, Roll and Rockman’s relationship saves it. Roll understands that Rockman got hurt because of her being somewhere she wasn’t suppose to be, so she decides to do something about it, by defeating Fireman in a very unconventional and funny way.

1. Episode 19, “Horror! The Devil Chip!”

From the very beginning this episode felt out of place. It is suppose to start from where the previous episode ended but it felt like a big chunk of the story was taken out leaving us with a lot of questions.

The last episode was “World Three secret operation” where Mahajarama disguises himself as Higure-san and gives Meiru a rare chip called the Super Great White Angel chip. The Chip turns out to be some kind of hacking device that allows Count Elect to gain control over Roll who then changes her into an evil Elec-woman looking queen. The episode ended with the evil Roll about to attack Rockman with a sword, but in this episode the sword disappears and Rockman is like a mile away from Roll just staring at her. Even the background is different, changing from a blue and green area to a purple and black one. I believe a different person directed this episode with the animation being a downgrade from the previous one.

The art style was unpleasant in some scenes and had to be replaced with better looking ones for the american dub and the DVD releases.

The worst offender of this episode is the writing. Just like in episode 13, the tournament proved to incompetent. Midorikawa, who never shuts up, had no clue why Roll suddenly changed and sided with the opposing team, but she doesn’t even question this and acts like it was something normal! It has been established that Midorikawa can see and or hear the teams, but she ignores that Meiru and Netto have been trying to pull out a chip and log out Roll with no luck. This could’ve raised a lot of red flags, since it looks like something is wrong with Meiru’s PET, it was clear that this was out of the operator’s control, so a competent tournament would have stop the battle to investigate and prevent another lawsuit!

Another fail is when the “Loser squad” discover that Mahajarama was impersonating Higure to plant the corrupted chip, and had proof of it, but chose not to tell the judges of the tournament for some stupid reason, because once again, children have to take matters into their own hands.

And finally, the conclusion to this plot. Higure, after being accidentally woken up by Dekao and Tohru, casually walks into the arena and talks to Meiru and Netto. He tells them about the Devil chip and whispers how to get it out, BY LITERALLY JUST USING ANOTHER CHIP! And that is not even a surprising reveal because back in episode 14 we clearly saw that Netto’s PET ejected a chip after sending in a third one, in fact, a chip can easily be push by another one and ejected later on. That solution was so stupid that it ruins the entire episode, and that’s why I think this is the worst episode of the first season of Rockman.EXE/ Megaman NT Warrior.

#MegaMan NT Warrior #megaman battle network #Rockman.exe #anime #dub vs sub

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a-heart-inscribed · 5 years

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Operation Eros - Part 3

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1847

The blush looks good on Steve, covering his cheeks and tinting his ears.

He clears his throat. “Captain Handsome, reporting home.”

The door clicks open and Steve holds the door open for you. “Welcome home Captain and guest.”

You break into a huge smile and fight the giggles as you move into the entry way. “Captain Handsome?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s Tony’s system. He chose the code names and I can’t for the life of me figure out how to change it.”

You laugh as he moves in and starts leading you into the tower. “Well I like it. Very Tony, though.”

“He alternates between that and Capsicle.” Steve chuckles with you for a moment. “FRIDAY, team location report please.”

“Of course, Captain. One moment.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You can find out where everyone is at any time?”

“No, not always. We can tell FRIDAY we want to be ‘offline’ and she hides our location unless emergency protocol is activated. And for the most part we try to respect each other’s privacy.”

“The Captain has a guest! And so late at night. Cap, I’m please to find you are finally bringing home a friend…” When Tony rounds the corner, his face shows confusion but amusement as your eyes meet.

“Privacy, huh?” You say to Steve in an attempt to hide the burning in your cheeks.

“Y/n. What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were the guest FRIDAY was reporting to me.” Tony pops out his hip and leans against the rail of the landing he was standing on. The look on his face has turned smug and you wonder if he is up to something.

“You have your teams guests reported to you Tony?” You laugh.

Tony smiles wider but doesn’t make the joke you see shining in his eyes. “I have everyone who comes and goes from the tower reported to me for at least 24 hours after a big mission.”

As you watch his face you get a good sense of his reasoning. He does well hiding it behind that smirk but you see in his eyes that he wants to keep his team safe. This solution probably gives them some amount of freedom as well as satisfying Tony’s protective tendencies. “Well,” you start, smiling and holding the bag in your hand up, “We come bearing sustenance.”

Tony’s eyes finally find the bags and coffee in your hands. “Woman, you are a God send.”

Steve laughs and motions for you to follow him up the stairs. “Team to the kitchen Tony?”

Closer to Tony you can tell he had just recently showered and can read the same exhaustion in his muscles that you see in Steve. He has a dark bruise peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt and you wonder how hard he had to be hit to get that while in the Iron Man suit. “Roger that Captain. FRIDAY, send an all page to the team, report to the kitchen please and thank you.”

One by one you are joined by the Avengers, each incredibly grateful to be met with warm food and drinks. From what you gather, food around the compound is fend for yourself and after missions everyone tends to be too tired to care about how hungry they are. You try to cut out and let them be, but they insist you stay and eat with them.

Some hours later, you’re seated between Steve and Loki when you try to stifle a yawn. It’s 3am after all and you have no idea how they are all awake.

“I believe the lady is tiered.” The God of Mischief’s eyes are playful but kind as he pushes your shoulder with his.

“No, no. It’s nothing.” You stifle another yawn and he grins at you.

You catch Steve looking at the clock and furrowing his brow. “Do you open tomorrow?” It takes you a moment before you concede under his gaze and nod. Steve sighs out your name. “By the time you got home you would need to turn around and come back. You should have left hours ago…”

“It’s fine really. I’ll just stay up. When you all are done, I’ll just go hang out in the shop until opening.” You knew you’d be kicking yourself in a few hours, but you had let time get away from you.

“Unacceptable.” Tony shrugged as he sat the last part of his sandwich down and waved his hand in the air. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please prep a guest room.”

Before you know it, you have a guest room in the tower, a barrowed set of pajamas from Natasha that don’t fit quite right, and a promise from Pepper to have your work uniform cleaned and ready in a few hours. You can’t be sure, but you have a suspicion that Tony made sure the room he had prepared wasn’t far from Steve’s because he offered to show you the way up as it was on his way to his room. As you lay down to sleep, in the Avengers Tower of all places, you wonder at how surreal things have become.

This staying over becomes more common place for you as the months go by and soon you have left a few things in the tower for the nights you need to just stay and your normal guestroom is pretty much just reserved for you.

It was one of those nights, one the team was coming home late, when Steve found you crying quietly in the back of the shop. He’d let himself in quietly but when you hadn’t greeted him, he had started to worry. “Wow, sweetheart. Hey, what’s wrong?”

His movements as he approached were slow and measured, not his normal rush to your side. Hands finding your shoulders he gently turned you to him. One hand ran up and down your arm and the other went to brush a tear from your face.

God you didn’t want him to see you like this, but you were tiered, and it was late and you could only hold stuff in for so long. You manage to clear your throat a little. “It’s nothing, Steve. Have you guys eaten?”

“No, no. You don’t get to brush this off. Not when you’re like this. What happened?”

You sigh and shift from foot to foot. “I- my boyfriend… I left him.”

“Oh.” You know you aren’t imagining the way Steve’s body tenses and how he pulls back just a bit. “Boyfriend. I- I’m sorry about the breakup. He’s a fool for hurting you.”

Shaking your head, you move back closer to him. “It’s complicated but not like that. I- I’m mad at myself.” You bring a hand up to scrub away some of the tears before going on. “Colin was my boyfriend a few years ago. We had dated for a while, but it just wasn’t working out. He had trust issues, I had my own stuff going on… we broke up like two years ago and he left the city. But he moved back last month and reached out. I figured it couldn’t hurt. You know, for old times’ sake, to give it another try…”

You couldn’t tell Steve you had only decided to give Colin another chance because you wanted the distraction from the feelings you felt rising for… someone unattainable.

“Sweetheart you don’t have to explain…”

Maybe you don’t have to, but you started and now you just want to get it out. “It was stupid, Steve. I don’t have feelings for him at all anymore. I knew I didn’t going in. So, we just… fought. All the time. He still has trust issues, said I was in love with someone else,” You tried to breeze past that because you weren’t sure that it was wrong, “he hated when I’d come home late even though it wasn’t like he was waiting around for me. He made that perfectly clear by sleeping with a different ex of his yesterday…”

“Oh, y/n.” Steve’s body softens again as he pulls you flush to his chest.

A hiccup escapes you, but you are done with the tears, you are done crying over that jerk. You nuzzle your face into the fabric of Steve’s stealth suit breathing in the unique sent of him mixed with the smell of a mission and you feel at home. Damn it, Colin was probably right about your feelings for Steve.

After a few minutes, during which you had wrapped your arms around Steve’s waist without realizing, you sigh into his chest and mutter. “Www shhhhd et uh teem um ood.”

Steve chuckles, “Excuse me?”

Sighing again you pull your head back. “We should get the team some food.”

He brushes back some hair from your face. “Doll, no need to worry about them, they can take care of themselves. You don’t have to face them right now.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that Steve hasn’t loosened his arms from around you “I want to be with my friends right now, Steve… I-”

You don’t get to finish you sentence as the bell on the door chimes. “Hey, Steve, I- oh.” As Bucky moved into the shop Steve pulled slightly away from you and Bucky’s face lit up in a grin. “Am I… interrupting something?” In his eyes you see that look that Tony had in his not so long and you can’t help but wonder what they are up to.

Smiling back, you shake your head and remove yourself from Steve’s arms, regretfully. “No, punk.” You pat his arm as you move by him. “Did you come to help carry the food?”

He chuckles, eyes glued to Steve for a bit as if trying to silently communicate with him. “No, actually. I came to tell Steve that we got the lead we were missing. We have some intelligence to go over and a mission to plan. The sooner the better.”

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Alright, let’s get Tony and Nat in on this too, and maybe Bruce. Let’s meet in the conference room in 10.”

“Oh no you don’t. Not without food and coffee. I know all of you. You probably haven’t eaten in two days, to focused on getting stuff done and saving the world.” You start to pull stuff out of a cupboard. “Both of you, over here. Bucky can you cut those into slices, and Steve can you get the bread and boxes out?”

And just like that you feel better. You feel at home with the team.

Ever the gentleman, Steve keeps your breakup a secret but is diligent in checking up on you. Even on the mission they had quickly got underway, he had made sure once a day to message you. When he can he comes by the shop on your breaks, when he can’t get away, he has you come over to the tower when you get off. Soon you realize that Captain America, Golden Boy of the USA, has become your best friend.

Tag List:

@georgialeighc13

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #the avengers #avengers #fanfic

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migleefulmoments · 5 years

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(1) I remember when Mark Salling died, there were rumours about it being a paid hit because his body was found in a really strange location, and people were trying to suggest Ryan Murphy ordered it because he was linked to the pedophilia too and exposed it getting caught. I also know back when Klaine was big and Darren became a regular, there were rumours Ryan was paying Darren as a toy boy (like an anon joked about recently, but it was an actual rumour), that was why Darren got series regular.

About Mark Salling murder rumours: www*thegoodteatime*com/single-post/2018/02/14/Was-Mark-Salling-Murdered - But honestly, you deep-dive into Google far about about Glee and there was an epic fuckton of dumb rumours around the entire cast. Ryan Murphy even said himself something along the lines of Glee being a shitstorm of difficulty, which is probably why he ended it. Google Glee cast shady secrets. It's all BS and rumour without base or evidence, like tinhatting, funnily enough.

I'm the one who sent the anon about RM and Mark rumors...I don't feel like digging through the blind items but most of the speculation is on CDAN, which we all know is not a credible resource and is garbage. My only point is that these rumors are out there, Enty (the guy who runs CDAN) heavily alludes to it, and the CCers use that as something to fuel their "Ryan is Satan" narrative. I personally think it's BS, because if true Ryan should be in jail and not gossiped about on a website.

OMG...I am sure you are right- a lot of Abby’s vague rumors about Ryan are coming from this nonsense. She is so gullible to the most ridiculous lies as long as it is something she wants to believe. Pedophilia isn’t something that someone does with their boss! Ryan Murphy is a powerful man but ordering a murder? She really needs to stop watching Telenovelas. I know she believes some of this nonsense because she’s talked about Glee set being horrific and that Ryan should be in jail.

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deadlines-in-life · 5 years

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Deadlines.

Purpose, the things that make life worth living, or so I’ve heard. From youth I’ve listened to people pose the question, “What do you want to be?” I never have an answer. The question has become an incessant ear worm, tormenting me wherever I go. As children, our duties are limited to watching television or making friends to go on play dates with. After becoming a young adult the biggest problems in life are being popular or taking Stacy to prom. Once we’ve finally overcome the unpleasant hill that is puberty, you learn that nothing that mattered really matters. The perfect mental condition in which to dive headfirst into university, where you’re taught how to pretend to be an adult. Four to six years later, when you’ve reached the top of the food chain, you may find yourself at the bottom of the barrel once again. Sitting in a brightly lit cubicle doing a nine to five job you didn’t really want, but it lets me have warm showers and makes my parents proud. What is the purpose of choosing to struggle through this shitty process, money, recognition, maybe happiness? Happiness. That could just be the key to finding my purpose, otherwise how could my classmates, teachers, and parents prattle on for so long about it, it must mean something. What does it mean to be happy though? I was always told to do whatever makes me happy, but truth be told, I couldn’t care less. I’ve never been “happy” and life has been swell, twenty-eight years later I’m still alive, even without a purpose. Maybe happiness doesn’t exist, I mean it's just a word, a label for something that no one has been able to explain to me. What a worthless obsession, honestly it’s just something people use to justify their stupidity, like religion but worse.

That's why I live my life around deadlines. It’s the only reliable thing that seems to make time move forward. The one thing that allows us to be in control of our own meaningless and mundane lives. No human can predict the future, but a person with a deadline can create a future. Ever since I can remember, I lived religiously for my deadlines. Dedicated to experiencing that momentary euphoria of completing a project on time. It is truly an inexplicable sensation. When time slows down to a snails crawl and you feel your issues wash away. I’ve tried explaining this to a few people, but no one ever gets it. They ask me, “is this really what you want in life”, or “are you truly satisfied with just this?” I wonder, where else you would seek satisfaction but from finishing a gruesome deadline. After you’ve poured your heart and soul into a project, after dozens of coffees and hours of fatigue, only to feel it dissipate in a single moment. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

https://www.16personalities.com/free-personality-test

https://www.myersbriggs.org/my-mbti-personality-type/take-the-mbti-instrument/home.htm?bhcp=1

The pursuit of happiness.

This is so stupid, happiness is plaguing my life again. I have a deadline tomorrow, but I just got off the phone with my co-worker and she told me my work doesn’t feel genuine. What in the world does she mean, it’s a goddamn news article, why does that need to feel genuine? Facts are facts, I just need to report them, who cares if some people are offended by reality, that would be illogical. I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, she better not screw up my deadline.

Great, now I’m being sent sensitivity training by HR, all I did was call her a bitch when she called my writing miserable and obnoxious. She did that on purpose too, now they’re using her piece instead of mine. HR said I needed to lighten up and be happier. I’ll fucking show them happiness, my next story will be on the front page swear to god.

That sensitivity training was a joke, all I had to do was spout some nonsense my teachers used to tell me. Is happiness that fickle and fake, I told the therapist some shit about aspirations and goals and now i’m “happy” and fit for work.

I can’t think straight, my legs are restless and I’ve written nothing since sitting in front of my laptop. Perhaps I need a change of environment, I’ll give the new cafe down the street a try. How ironic, of all things to assign me for this week's publication, it had to be “the pursuit of happiness.” Why am I so stuck though, I just have to do what I always do, make up some crap that panders to the audience. Where can I find inspiration?

My dog always seems so happy, I wonder what it is that can excite him so. Food, walks? Hmm, maybe I can write about exercise, or veganism. “A healthy lifestyle is what brings happiness, remember to walk at least ten kilometers a day and maintain a diverse diet!” Perfect. Why does it feel so lacking…

Shit, my deadline is approaching but I don’t want to submit this piece.

*Why?*

I can’t miss out on two deadlines in a row, I need this job.

*How come?*

Just send it in damn it.

*What's the point?*

If I don’t, they’ll use something from that bitch again.

*Does it matter?*

Does any of this matter?

I couldn’t do it in the end, but I still don’t know why. Could it be the sensitivity training? No way, I learnt nothing over there. It's possible I may be sick, that would explain why I haven’t had an appetite for a while. Yet, it doesn’t feel like it, It felt like my writing was missing something. It's probably just because I’m tired, I’ll go visit the doctor tomorrow.

youtube

Two weeks notice.

Have you ever felt your whole world crash in an instant? Well, I came back from the doctors and it turns out I was sick, I’m terminally ill and was told I had two weeks to live. How did I never notice my health declining, but more importantly, what kind of deadline is given with only two weeks notice, it's unfair. What now?

The doctor told me there was nothing anyone could do, he told me to just try and make the most of these last two weeks, be happy. What would normal people do with this information. Party, take drugs, travel, maybe visit their family and friends. Do those things make people happy? That just sounds like a chore. I don’t really want to do anything, I don’t want to move. I think I’ll just go back to work.

Is this how I pictured my final hours, it’s not like I imagined I’d have children and grandchildren around me in my final moments lying in a well lit a hospital room. The reaper will have to settle for this harshly lit office cubicle instead. I don’t feel frustrated or angry, so why does this feel again, so lacking. I feel discontent about something, what could it be. Fuck.

I was just told to pack up my things and leave, I’ve been fired. Apparently an anonymous complaint was filed which claimed inappropriate behaviour towards my co-workers, probably that bitch again. Screw it, what does it matter, I’ll be gone soon enough anyways.

The past week has been a blur, and it feels weird to be one week closer to death despite not feeling any pain. I can appreciate a painless death though, never did like pain. I cry too easily whenever I’m hurt, it’s quite embarrassing. I remember when I was younger, my mother would sing to me whenever I was hurt, and then the pain would disappear. It was a similar feeling to the stress of a deadline washing away after completion. Wait, why am I crying, have the pains finally set in?

I’ve come to really like this new coffee shop, It's quite fun to spend my days just sitting at the front of the shop where I can watch people go about their lives through this massive window. It’s made me realise how many sensations I will never feel though. Couples walking hand in hand, parents guiding their children along with their gelato from the store next door. I am familiar with the hustle and bustle of rush hour though. Watching people run late for work, or bumping into one another while focusing on their phones, and I see at least five people spill their coffee everyday.

Is this envy? I don’t know, but I’ve never felt such a strong desire to be one of those people rushing to work. I mean they have their whole lives ahead to experience things I never will, even the prostitute that comes out on the street corner at night has had sex and I haven’t.

Wait, I’m not ready, this isn’t what I wanted. There are still so many things I need to do before I go. Please, I haven’t even felt happiness yet. This deadline isn’t fair.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2582846/

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undinefin · 6 years

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Promises - BNHA/MHA

hello ew tumblr's new colours lmao what. anyways!! sorry ive been so busy ;; hopefully the chapter makes up for that a bit www to the like. 4 people who read this lmao Genre: fantasy Ships: kirishima x bakugou Word Count: 6662 Author: @undinefin

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Eijirou had seen towns before. When he had finally perfected his human form, he’d gone into a few near his nest before his family had to relocate. The towns there were simple. Eijirou liked that about humans. Their little daily schedules, the way they would pack bond with objects or other species, and how they put value on things like clothes or paper.

All the towns he’d seen up until this point were quiet ones, where the most action or drama would be a party, or a bar fight. Occasionally the town would hold a festival and items would either drop or raise in price. But none of them were big, he could probably cross the town in a few strides as a dragon.

But Charnom was not one of those towns.

Above the buildings were streamers and flags of different colours. The central location where Katsuki had taken him was bustling with people. Eijirou was constantly being jolted from side to side. The boy had told him to look out for something called “pickpockets” and if he did see one, he could punch them.

Eijirou could pick up all sorts of conversations. Some were discussing a ball that was supposedly next week, others were haggling for goods at stalls, a few were simply joking around with friends, though a few conversations seemed to hold some tension. The dragon had never been this overwhelmed before. He’d felt this sense of wonder from humans before, and the warm feeling of appreciation and amazement was filling him once more.

“Close your mouth, you look like an idiot,” Katsuki ordered.

Eijirou smiled instead, letting his sharp teeth show. It was the one thing he was unable to fully change. He assumed it had to do with survival and his body ensuring he could still eat properly. Sometimes he’d have little success with shaping them into small rectangles, but within a day or so they’d grow back to the sharp state.

Katsuki led them through the busy market. Eijirou wasn’t able to properly process all of the stalls around him. He could point out some food or clothing stalls. A few seemed to sell weapons, or rather strange-looking drinks.

“Oh, Katsuki-chan! It’s been a very long time,” an old woman said weakly. The pair approached a small stall that seemed to sell food.

“I’ve brought some fruit.” He placed his pack onto the counter and took out the pots. “Oi, you too.” Katsuki gestured to Eijirou, who took a moment to pay attention to the boy’s orders instead of the thousand other things happening.

The old woman smiled softly. “It’s always nice getting fruit from you Katsuki-chan. You don’t charge a lot for your services, even though finding these fruits is so hard.”

Katsuki seemed almost concerned. “Is the business going okay?” he asked.

“Well, my daughter is supposed to take over, but she’s been so busy taking care of her son. I know my son-in-law won’t want to sit here running a fruit stall, but I don’t want to pressure the family either,” the old woman explained.

“Is there anything we can do?” Eijirou asked. He struggled to untie the pot lid.

The woman’s face brightened. “Oh, if you could! I wouldn’t want to trouble such nice young men. If you could, look after my grandson for a bit, then I’d be able to go out and sell my produce to a regular buyer.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, about to reject the offer, but he turned to see Eijirou’s pleading eyes. “Fine, when do you need us?”

The smile on her face made her weathering skin wrinkle more. “Oh, just after lunch!”

Eijirou nodded pleasantly as Katsuki dragged him back into the crowded street. They blocked themselves off into a side street. The smell of garbage and rotting food was extremely pungent there. Eijirou covered his nose in order to block out the disgusting stench.

“What the fuck man? I don’t wanna babysit some kid!” Katsuki pushed Eijirou’s shoulder back.

The dragon pouted. “Well I do! I almost never get to see human children.”

“That’s what this is about? You want to see a kid?” Katsuki shouted, his voice getting throaty from exasperation. The wrinkle between his brows became bigger, signifying his annoyance. The boy took a step back, realizing he was taking up the dragon’s space and forcing him against a wall.

Eijirou nodded shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Please?” he begged.

Katsuki sighed, “Whatever, we already agreed. But you’re doing all the work, okay? If the kid shits himself I’m not cleaning it up.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“Well neither do I!”

This sent Eijirou into a bit of a frenzy, worrying and fretting over taking care of human children. He knew the problems of taking care of dragon babies, the most concerning issue being losing sight of a small reptile.

Dragons, like most creatures, were free to nature as their bathroom. However, humans, somewhere along the line, found the concept rather disgusting and insisted that there be rooms dedicated to personal hygiene. This was another interesting thing about humans, though definitely one that Eijirou found quite troublesome. A bit needless if anything.

“How do you go to the bathroom, Bakugou?”

Katsuki whipped his head around, glaring. “What the fuck man? Why do I have to tell you?”

“Well, I didn’t see a bathroom in your house so I was just wondering,” Eijirou replied. He didn’t match the embarrassment that Katsuki seemed to have.

“There’s a river a few hundred meters out I use if it’s shit, but other than that I’m just like some animal,” he begrudgingly explained. The red on his face spread to his ears. “We’re not talking about this anymore.”

The two reached the town centre, which was a large circle that held no large building or structures, save for a wooden board and a large tower. The area had a brick path that lead around it, but there was also a fair amount of greenery. All of it was planted though.

“How are those flowers even surviving here...?” Eijirou wondered aloud.

“Why? Are they not supposed to?”

“These are Campanulas, they shouldn’t grow in Amagata’s climate at all. They’re obviously imported, and someone’s regulating the temperature around them. Or maybe it’s those weird...pesty-sides? Is that what they’re called? Maybe it’s fart-ill-eezer?”

“Fertilizer? Pesticides?” Katsuki guessed.

“Yeah that! Or magic I guess. But using magic for flowers seems like a lot more work than needed.”

Katsuki stared at the pretty blue flowers. “You’d be surprised.”

Eijirou watched in pure confusion as Katsuki approached the large wooden board. He could read some of the slips of paper with relative ease. They seemed to be requests, asking for favours in return for nik.

Bored, Eijirou let his eyes wander around the rest of the opening. Unlike the busy street they had been on, the town centre was lined with little cafés, and shops that sold odd, likely unnecessary, but still fascinating trinkets.

Eijirou found himself drawn to the large tower. It was made of dark brick that seemed to be fading in the sunlight. The structure looked far too thin to house people, but the exterior wasn’t particularly interesting either. He concluded it wasn’t a form of art, but still couldn’t make heads or tails of the weird circle at the very top.

“Hey Bakugou, what’s the tower for?”

The boy looked up towards where Eijirou was pointing. “That’s a clock tower,” he said simply.

“What does it do?”

“Can you shut up and give me a few seconds, then I can explain? If you’re not going to earn money then keep quiet,” he ordered.

Eijirou nodded, though not scared or worried about Katsuki’s tone. He amused himself with the birds that were flying from one building to the next, and the few who were waiting patiently at the cafés for a speck of food. He watched a few children running around the centre, playing some game he couldn’t understand.

Finally, Katsuki turned to him. “So, you see the numbers inside the circle?” he said out of the blue. Eijirou was surprised by the sudden conversation, but quickly nodded. “And the big sticks?” Eijirou nodded again. “Well you read those, and it tells the time of day.”

“It...it’s like a sundial?” Eijirou asked. He was confused enough by the odd device at Katsuki’s house, but the clock tower seemed even more vague. Time was another concept that Eijirou didn’t share with humans. It wasn’t something so organized for dragons. Perhaps because they lived so much longer, they didn’t need such strict schedules.

“No, it doesn’t tell you the month or day. It’s just used as a general thing,” Katsuki explained.

Eijirou did notice that the circle with numbers on it – the clock perhaps – was flat, unlike the sundial Katsuki owned, which dipped inside, creating a spherical shape. “Can you read it?”

“Yeah, it’s not hard. But it’s still sort of new to Piece. From what I’ve heard, they’re gonna stop using sundials. Speaking of time, we have to go pick up that old woman’s kid soon,” he mentioned.

The dragon would have stayed and tried to figure out how the clock worked but the excitement of meeting a human child outweighed the clock tower. The two made their way back into the crowded marketplace. Again, his senses were overwhelmed from the commotion.

Between the different food stalls, potion shops, and lamp tents, Eijirou could have sworn he saw a booth that sold trappings made from dragon scales, blood, and teeth. He didn’t focus on the stall for very long. Most humans would pay thousands for items such as those. Causing a commotion would only lead to suspicion, but he still couldn't help but quicken his pace.

��Katsuki-chan, over here!” the old woman waved from beside her stall, which had a sign telling patrons that it would be temporarily closed. Beside her was a very small child, which fascinated Eijirou more than anything. Human children were often extremely cute, with their miniscule hands and impossibly high voice.

As the pair approached the old woman, the boy sneaked behind her legs, using her as a barrier. “Oh, he’s just shy! Thank you so much for doing this, it’s such a huge favour!”

Katsuki grunted. He crossed his arms and refused to pay attention to the child. Eijirou on the other hand was excitedly waving towards the kid.

“It’s no problem ma’am. We’ll take care of him for a few hours!” Eijirou promised.

The old woman stepped aside, forcing the kid out in the open. He still clung to her legs, but his small, red face was facing the pair at least. “This is Kota, my grandson. He’s twenty-months old. He knows a few words, mostly ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ but—”

“Mommy!” Kota cried out. Tears formed at his eyes, and he clutched onto his grandmother with greater strength.

“Well, Kota can walk just fine. Take him somewhere where it’s distracting, but not busy. It’ll be great trouble if you lose him,” she laughed.

Eijirou felt his heart melt as the child begrudgingly let go of his grandmother’s leg. The dragon held out his hand, hoping Kota would take it.

“Now Kota-chan, this here is Katsuki-chan.” She pointed to Katsuki, who still refused to properly greet the child. “And this is...?”

Eijirou was caught off guard. Should he use the name he gave Katsuki? Or would someone, somehow catch onto it? No, Eijirou couldn’t take any chances. Not with his family and dragonkind being at risk just because of some stupid fight, which is what landed him in this position in the first place (not that this position was necessarily awful, it was just dangerous).

“I’m Kirishima. Nice to meet ya Kota-kun!”

The old woman pushed her grandson towards the pair. “Yes, this is Kirishima-chan. Be a good boy, okay Kota-chan?” With a kiss on the cheek, the grandmother made her way through the busy marketplace. Kota tried to follow her with his eyes, but quickly lost her in the crowd.

“Baa...Baa-cha...” he mumbled. His small voice, paired with teary eyes made Eijirou’s heart squeeze. Dragon children weren’t this cute.

Eijirou managed to slip Kota’s small hand into his, and Katsuki led them down a side street to stay away from the busy crowd.

“So, you’re twenty months old, huh Kota-kun?” Eijirou asked. His voice unconsciously pitched when talking to the child. Kota nodded slowly, bringing his thumb to his mouth to suck on. “How...how old is twenty months?” Eijirou asked, realizing he didn’t actually know what the value meant.

“God you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Hey! No swearing around the children!”

Katsuki sighed. “I don’t care damnit. The kid isn’t going to pick up any words from just two hours of being together.”

“Can I start calling you Katsuki-chan then?” Eijirou laughed.

“Absolutely fucking not! Also, twenty months is almost two years old, so he’s still basically a baby,” he answered Eijirou’s previous question.

“I...I don’t know a lot about humans but something tells me that’s incorrect.”

“Kids are all the same to me,” Katsuki defended himself. “Whatever. Where are we going with the brat?”

Eijirou looked towards Kota again, who was getting saliva everywhere from sucking on his thumb. His eyes were pinned to the floor. “Do you wanna go anywhere Kota-kun? Or do you want me and Katsuki-chan to choose?”

“Hey! Fuck you!”

“No swearing!”

Kota’s bottom lip trembled. “Baa-cha,” he said quickly.

Eijirou frowned. “I’m sorry Kota-kun, we can’t go to Baa-chan right now.” The child hung his head, whimpering and mumbling ‘Baa-cha’ over and over. “How about the town centre? Maybe we can eat something there? Or look at the birds!”

“Birdie?” His face brightened at the response. The widening eyes and curious expression slowly turning into excitement was enough for Eijirou to turn, and beg Katsuki to lead the way to the town centre.

“Look, you’re the one keeping him entertained, I’m just here babysitting two idiots,” he called from ahead. Eijirou paid the insult no mind, instead focusing on Kota, who was now excitedly jumping up and down.

***

Eijirou was impressed by how well Katsuki knew Charnom. He navigated the backstreets well, easily leading the three to the town centre. Again, Eijirou rested his eyes on the clock tower, but Kota tugging on his arm quickly distracted him. He seemed to be eagerly heading towards a flock of birds gathered at a café.

“Let him run around, it’s not as busy here. Just keep an eye on him and yell at him every so often,” Katsuki said.

Eijirou nodded, telling Kota to not wander far. The boy ran towards the birds, excitedly chasing them as they either hopped or flew out of his grasp.

“You know, the kid reminds me of you. I wonder if he’ll be anything like you when he grows up,” Eijirou commented. “Like, the spikiness of his hair is sorta’ similar, and his eyes are scarily angled that it kinda’ looks like he’s a bit mad all the time.”

“I do not look like some idiotic kid!”

The dragon laughed, showing off his pointy teeth. “Aww, is Katsuki-chan angry? Need a nap?” he teased.

“Shut your stupid face, or I’ll shut it up for you,” Katsuki growled.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“By punching your damn jaw so hard you won’t be able to laugh anymore.” Katsuki cracked his knuckles, letting out an intimidating grin. His pupils seemed to reflect a fire that wasn’t present, but Eijirou could easily picture it.

Somehow, the dragon was disappointed by the response.

At some point, between when Kota had fallen onto the floor because some bird kicked dirt into his face, and when the woman at the café had given the boy crumbs to feed the birds, a man selling balloons walked by.

Eijirou had only seen balloons about two times in his life. They were a truly mysterious creation. He found it odd how humans found happiness and excitement in some thin sheets of paper being lifted by air. When he first saw them, he initially believed the user would control the balloon by manipulating the air. It turned out that a small flame would be conjured within the paper sphere, which would lift the entire contraption. Attaching a rope to it would give humans control over the balloon, preventing it from floating away.

Balloons could come in different colours, and different shapes too. Eijirou, who was a being that relied purely on magic, marveled at the amalgamation of science and magic. His intellect might play a part in his fascination—because Eijirou could never wrap his head around such subjects like arithmetic or science—but the limitless human imagination was still amazing.

Kota ran up to the two. “Please?” he pleaded, pointing at the balloon vendor.

Eijirou turned to Katsuki, who was in charge of the wallet. “Please?” he imitated the child. The boy caved, handing a single nik to Eijirou. The dragon took Kota’s petite hand, leading him up to the vendor. As they approached the man, the toddler grew increasingly nervous.

After some fumbling, and broken conversation, Kota walked away with a forest green balloon. The pair ran back to Katsuki, who looked unimpressed by the decision.

“Here, pass me the string,” Katsuki demanded. Kota looked hesitant, hiding his small figure behind Eijirou’s legs. Eijirou slowly pulled the child from behind him, placing Kota’s hand into Katsuki’s. The boy kneeled while tying the string around Kota’s wrist. “There, now it won’t float away.”

Kota ran around again, this time his green balloon trailing behind him. Eijirou worried a bird would pick up the piece of paper, and fly off, leaving only a fire in a small wicker basket. To distract himself, Eijirou focused again on the clock tower.

“How does it work? Magic?” he asked, noticing how the rods of the clock were now in a different position.

Katsuki shrugged, “Hell if I know. If it isn’t on magic, then it probably started with it. Most things do that.”

“So, you guys just develop from magic to science?” Eijirou echoed.

“I think so. I dunno much about either of ‘em though,” Katsuki said, finishing the conversation. “Hey, didn’t we come here to get more books in the first place? Why don’t we go over there now? Even if the kid doesn’t wanna come he doesn’t have much a choice,” he grinned.

“Bakugou!”

“I thought I was Katsuki-chan to you,” he gibed. “Oi kid, we’re going to a new place now.”

Kota was startled by Katsuki’s yell. He scurried over to Eijirou, and this time took the initiative to hold Eijirou’s hand himself. Again, they followed Katsuki’s lead to the bookstore. The building was further from the busy market place, and west of the town center. There were only four or five other people on the street where they walked, none of them conversing.

Walking into the bookstore, the unusual smell of parchment and leather filled Eijirou’s nose. The room was filled with books of different lengths. There seemed to be signs on the shelfs, marking different genres, and even languages.

It was a different sense of wonder than the market. Here, Eijirou knew that the heart and mind of all humans were collected within these pages, all concentrated in this very store. People poured their thoughts, their studies, their emotions onto the pages and spun them so the words would turn into an idea, perhaps a different idea, in another person’s head.

There was a certain kind of magic that humans held with these books; one that Eijirou hoped to understand, even just an inkling of what they contained.

Kota pointed to a book that was stood on a table at the front of the store. It was clearly on display for people to look at. “Aw-Might!”

“Who?” Eijirou asked.

“Aw-Might! Strong!” he shouted. Kota ran towards the book, and flipped through it. When the contents proved to have no images, he sadly put the book down.

Eijirou faced Katsuki. “Who’s ‘Aw-Might?’”

The shopkeeper spoke up, “Oh! Are you Bakugou-kun’s friend? I heard that you don’t get out much. But even if you live under a rock, you should surely know of the Champion.” Eijirou shook his head in confusion. “Are you a foreigner?”

“Uh...yeah,” he responded. “Not from Piece.”

The old man beamed. “I’d be glad to tell you about the Champion! You know, he’s the Pride of Piece, the Unassailable Soul, the Champion–All Might! He’s a part of the Royal Guard, but he’s so strong that he’s basically a unit on his own. I don’t think there’s a day in Piece history, where he’s lost or surrendered.”

“Woah...so he’s a super strong, manly, man?” Eijirou asked.

“Strong! Aw-Might!” Kota nodded. He held his hands out in front of him, fists balled, and began running around the room. The child spewed nonsense, copying phrases and words that were on the cover of the All Might Book.

“He is!” the shopkeeper laughed. Eijirou picked up the book, and noticed the image on the front. The Champion seemed to be a big, burly man with the largest smile Eijirou could conceive of a human. His hair seemed to be a signature of sorts. The way the blond locks formed a V-shape atop his head was unusual. On his shoulder was a massive sword, as big as the man himself. It was rusted, and cuts on the blade itself told stories in themselves of the battles the Champion had fought.

“If you’ve ever heard of the Chimera Crisis, it was the Champion who fought off the beasts from the west coast. He participated in gladiator fights when he was younger, winning them three years in a row. It’s how he became so well known. Oh! He also took out the entire Darkwing Organization on his own,” the shopkeeper rambled on.

He listed many other achievements, including a preventing an assassination on the Royal Family, and resolving the conflict between the naiads and the selkies, who were flooding the towns and displacing many habitats.

“You know,” the shopkeeper chuckled. “Bakugou-kun used to come in here and read all sorts of stories of All Might when he was a child. He was obsessed with the Champion, weren’t you Bakugou-kun?”

The boy flushed, sputtering, though not denying the statement. “I was not obsessed!”

“He was passionate,” the old man said gently.

“All kids are passionate about All Might! He’s the strongest knight in Piece!”

Eijirou laughed, mimicking whatever action Kota had done before with his arms outstretched and fists balled. “Did you pretend you could go around like this? And carry a huge sword? Huh, Katsuki-chan?” he teased.

“Don’t call me that! All Might is the idol of every kid in this country, it’s only natural that I was also a fan!”

“Oh? Are you going by Katsuki now?” the shopkeeper asked, straying from the topic.

Katsuki let out a growl, grabbing Eijirou by the flaps of his vest. His voice was hoarse from shouting, his eyes filling with white. “I don’t! Shitty Hair if you don’t fucking stop—”

“Kaccha?”

The boy saw red.

Katsuki turned to see Kota looking up at him, but his small face rounded more, and his eyes looked much bigger. His red cheeks from excitement looked instead like he was crying. The small figure was shaking in Katsuki’s eyes, and suddenly it wasn’t Kota standing in the bookstore anymore.

“Kaccha?” the toddler repeated.

Katsuki strode up to the child, his blood boiling. A part of him knew what he saw wasn’t true, but that alone wasn’t enough to stop his fist from raising above his head. Katsuki cocked his head to the side, his neck straining from the position. He stared at Kota, who was no longer Kota to him. Adrenaline ran through his blood, urging him to bring down his hand.

Kota swallowed, his eyes no longer glowing. “...scary,” he mumbled. The boy ran to Eijirou, who could only stare at the scene.

Katsuki turned to Eijirou, seeing the unnatural white in his face. Slowly realizing exactly what his actions had implied, he rushed towards the two, preparing an apology in his head. He was sweating, the palms of his hands wet from fear and anxiety.

“I didn’t—”

“No! Not Kaccha!” Kota screamed. The sound ripped through Katsuki’s ears. He lunged, preparing his hand to grab a throat.

At contact, Katsuki was holding onto small red scales. A small hiss, and a bit of smoke was released from his hand. Looking up, he met Eijirou’s eyes which wore an emotion Katsuki had never seen in them before. His eyes shone, maybe because of his draconic nature, but to Katsuki, it felt as though the dragon was going to cry.

Snapping his hand back, Katsuki stormed out of the shop. He didn’t look back, but did wait at the door for the other two. There was no movement for a long time. Katsuki simply stood, looking onto the empty street and forcing himself to push out his violent and grey memories. No, right now he had to focus on living. He wouldn’t see that damn useless guy anymore.

Katsuki slapped his cheeks. It was still a habit to call that guy useless, but Katsuki knew better than that now. That’s what he promised.

The door beside him opened slowly, and Kota walked out shyly. His hands were gripping onto his shirt, and he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bakugou-san!” he shouted.

“Good job!” Eijirou’s voice called from inside. The dragon lead the child out, so all three were on the street. Katsuki could hear the shopkeeper call out a farewell through the wall.

Katsuki took a deep breath. “Me too kid. Sorry for being bad.” He bowed his head slightly. Bad was an understatement.

Eijirou nodded. “We won’t call you that anymore. Sorry.”

Kota couldn’t hold it anymore. He began to whimper, and transitioned into a full-blown meltdown. Big tears fell down his cheeks, and his small mouth let out a perpetual, high-pitched cry. Eijirou tried to hush him, but Kota only panicked from the proximity, flailing his arms. Eijirou took the message and backed up.

The boy raised his hands and began rubbing the tears away from his eyes. Katsuki watched as the balloon’s rope slowly slid off his wrist with each rub. When Kota finally pulled his hand away, the balloon took off into the sky.

This only prompted more crying. The child grasped for the string, which was already out of reach for him. Katsuki jumped to grab the string, but it slipped from his fingers which were still sweaty from before. He cursed, backing up and hoping to gain more leverage.

Before Katsuki could jump again, a pair of wings crossed his field of vision. When he blinked, Eijirou was on the ground with the balloon in his hand. His vest was tossed to the side, leaving a man shirtless in the street with a balloon in hand, and a smile of sharp teeth.

He put a finger to his lips. “Kota-kun, don’t tell anyone you saw that okay?” Eijirou bent down, and gave the balloon back to Kota.

“Pretty...” the child whispered. Katsuki watched the child stare intently into Eijirou’s eyes, which radiated onto his cheeks. The beautiful gold had returned to the dragon's eyes, but slowly faded.

“You promise you won’t tell anyone?” Eijirou asked again.

Kota nodded, still fascinated with whatever creature stood before him. “Promise!”

***

The last purchase the pair made was a candlestick and saucer for the walk home. They didn’t share much conversation on the way back to the glade. Eijirou kept on asking if he could bring out his wings and fly back, since walking was really tiring, but Katsuki had already given him a heavy scolding from his stupid, past actions.

The Wyrm Forest felt much denser at night, as if the canopies closed in without the sun. It was eerily quiet, only the sounds of cicadas filling the air.

“Are you sure we won’t be attacked?” Eijirou asked for the nth time. “I swear this forest gets creepier at night.”

Katsuki groaned. “I already told you Shitty Hair, wyrms don’t attack unless they feel threatened! And considering how big they are, that isn’t very often! Unless you go around poking a stick at them or some crap, they won’t attack you. They’re your cousins y’know. They’re smart.”

Still jittery, Eijirou gave a hesitant nod. “How do you make this journey so often? It’s so long,” the dragon whined.

“Ya get used to it. Why? Not strong enough to do it? Need me to carry your lazy ass?” Katsuki jeered. He bent over, as if inviting the dragon for a piggy-back-ride.

“Really?” Eijirou played along. He grabbed Katsuki’s shoulders and almost jumped up onto his back, but the boy ran ahead, laughing.

Katsuki was the one holding the candle, but Eijirou needed neither light nor warmth. His glowing eyes provided enough light for him to see, and as a fire dragon, he could certainly regulate his body temperature. Katsuki found it almost frustrating how magical Eijirou really was. Every component of him worked off of, and in turn, exuded mana.

“You wanted to know why my wing got torn, yeah?” Eijirou broke the momentary silence.

Katsuki nodded rather shamelessly. His childlike curiousity took over from the main point he was trying to make.

“The truth is that, well, I got too close to a group of travelling humans. They were hunting some egg or something. I was fascinated by their carriages, and the way they had enchanted their swords. I wanted to see humans do what they do best: make things happen.” Eijirou’s eyes flashed a brighter orange. “But they must’ve had some ranger or someone else hiding where I couldn’t see, or even hear!

“Before I knew it, I was being fired at. I couldn’t properly protect myself without jeopardizing all dragons as a whole. I tried to fly away, but as I began to flap my wings, they must’ve shot some explosive projectile or maybe some magic but whatever it was, it tore my wing.”

The two broke through the forest wall, entering Katsuki’s glade. He watched as the form beside him fell onto all fours, the skin and hair stretching and slipping off. It was sickening to watch Eijirou's eyes roll back into his head, and his nails growing abnormally long. He struggled to get off his vest and pants while scales enveloped his entire body, which was now four times the size of Katsuki. The dragon took a step forward. His body mass was finally big enough to shake the ground. His sharp teeth simply grew in size, and a second row sprouted up behind the first. Finally, with a shake of his head Eijirou returned to his full form and his eyes slid back, fiery orange.

“That was horrifying what the fuck. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Eijirou nodded. “A bit. It hurts more to go the other way though. Anyways, after my wing was shot, I set some nearby trees on fire and ran until I reached the North Mountains. Stayed up there for a few days but that damn Cherufe was so infuriating I left. That’s when I got to the forest, and I met you soon after.”

“Huh, you’d think dragons could heal faster,” Katsuki mentioned.

“Man, I wish!” Eijirou exclaimed. “It’s because we’re so reliant on magic, and so huge that it takes a long time to heal stuff. We can take lots of blows, but it usually requires a year to recover from a full fight. Well, then again, a year isn’t worth much to a dragon.”

“Why do you still like humans if they’re trying to kill you all the time?”

“You’re not trying to kill me,” Eijirou said. Katsuki glared. “Okay, okay. To be honest, I don’t even know. But everything you li’l guys do is so fascinating. You’ve built castles and churches larger than even some of the biggest dragons! By yourselves too! And the paintings, or songs, or the way you live your lives is so odd, but always so interesting.”

“So, you’re just a fuckin’ nerd,” Katsuki concluded.

Eijirou snorted, “Sure.”

Katsuki stopped at the door to his hut. He looked the dragon in the eye, and hardened his expression. “I’m definitely gonna do it. I’ll create a kingdom where I’m the king, and there’s gonna be dragons everywhere. You and I will be sitting on a massive pile of gold.”

Eijirou’s amber eyes shone, and the dragon gave a massive, toothy grin. He nodded, nudging Katsuki with his snout. With the silent exchange, Katsuki watched the dragon walked away to hide himself in the woods to sleep.

Katsuki dreamed of flying in the sky. He couldn’t tell if it was from his own abilities, or another force, but beside him was Eijirou. Instead of a dragon, it was his human form with wings sprouting from his back. The sky was a clear blue. The boy knew it was a dream. Eijirou wouldn’t fly so freely when he could be spotted, but Katsuki wanted to stay in the moment a little longer.

But the Eijirou in his dreams was too one-dimensional. Sure, the dragon’s laugh was pleasant to the ears – almost addicting – but it was the only thing that dream-Eijirou could do. There was no banter, and no matter how hard he tried, Katsuki couldn’t say a word. Possibly the worst element was the distance between them. Katsuki couldn’t move closer to the dragon at all.

Slowly, the form began to fall, like he’d seen earlier. His skin dripped off, like candle wax and fell to the earth. Underneath the layer of skin was unnervingly slimy scales. Even with the sounds of his bones cracking, and eyes rolling back and forth, the dragon was still laughing. The sound became distorted, low and then high frequencies replacing the once beautiful laughter.

Eijirou fully turned to Katsuki, revealing the blood on the side of his face, hemorrhaging from a chunk taken off his head. Bits of bone were visible, and the blood slowly turned to scales on his face, locking the dragon’s despairing expression in place.

He woke up in a sweat. Katsuki took a moment to regulate his breathing, hoping his heart would slow down with it.

“Bakugou.”

The boy screamed, nearly jumping out of his bed. He turned to see Eijirou in his human form, with the same expression on his face that Katsuki had seen in the dream, minus the blood.

Eijirou looked ready to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better guest here. A better man. I’m so sorry,” he whispered it, speaking quickly.

Katsuki stood up. “What do you mean? The hell’s going on? Were you attacked?”

Eijirou pursed his lips, which were trembling. “Not yet. I was too careless in town, I know they’re coming I can feel it, I can hear it. They’ll come here eventually.”

“No—”

“I have to leave. I can’t put my family in danger anymore.” His eyes were a bland maroon. “I’m sorry,” he said it again. Katsuki could see light out his window. The sun hadn’t lifted into the sky. No, it was torches, and with torches came humans.

“I know it’s selfish to leave you here in danger. I’m so sorry, I’ll try to throw them off somehow but—”

“You’re damn right it’s selfish,” Katsuki growled. His hands were getting sweaty again, but this time with anger. “You’re just gonna go? As if nothing ever happened? I can’t believe that you’re just abandoning me! If you were so worried about this why didn’t you tell me earlier!?” He felt his heart beat faster with every demand.

“I didn’t want to worry you! You’re too headstrong, you’d try to fight that entire town if I told you. I’m leaving,” the dragon declared.

“So, what!? I told you, I said it myself I would fight every damn person on this continent if it meant that you could fly freely.” Katsuki grasped Eijirou’s arm, feeling the unnatural heat emanating from it.

Eijirou smiled sadly. “I know you would. And I know you can definitely do it, but not now. Now isn’t the time.”

Katsuki almost screamed. “Then when is the time!? Huh?”

Eijirou began backing out of the hut. “I’m sorry,” he said again. The boy followed him, grabbing his sword in case he did need to fight.

The dragon broke out into a run, letting his wings form, but they were stuffed into his vest. Katsuki ran after him, putting every ounce of energy he could into chasing down the Eijirou. “Wait!” he cried. “You’re definitely coming back, right?”

Eijirou stopped and turned. He seemed to wipe a tear from his eye. “I will. I promise I’ll come back.”

“When?” Katsuki begged.

“Soon.”

“How soon is that!?” his voice broke. He cracked on the last word, some foreign feeling filling his throat. Katsuki wanted to blow something up, he wanted to destroy whatever awful thing was tearing at his heart right now.

The dragon’s eyes reflected light that wasn’t his. The people were drawing closer to the glade. Even though they couldn’t hear him from across the field, Eijirou still lowered his voice. “I don’t really know. It could be months, it could be years.”

Katsuki seemed to whimper at the response. “So...you’re really going? Just like that? If you could stay, we could lie, or fight them off. Don’t just leave you asshole,” he matched Eijirou’s volume.

Eijirou nodded. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a smoothed claw. “This is... actually really weird and mildly disgusting if you think about it but...I didn’t want to leave everything behind, and I selfishly wanted you to remember me, even just a bit.” Eijirou held the orange claw in his hand, which gleamed under the moonlight.

“I made this quickly. It’s one of my claws but it’s smaller for obvious reasons.” He placed it in Katsuki’s hand.

“Magic?” the boy guessed. Eijirou nodded. “Yeah it’s sort of disgusting,” Katsuki agreed. “Like, really disgusting. I could’ve gone without the fucking details.”

Eijirou laughed. He pulled out another claw that was similar to the one Katsuki was given. Holding his empty hand above both of the claws, he casted a small light upon them. “It’s a weak sort of tracking. This is the best I can do to keep you and I safe,” he explained. “It’ll grow warmer the closer we are to each other. I’ll definitely find you again.”

Katsuki bit his lip, trying to compose himself. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, you better find me again, you lazy asshole.”

Eijirou leaned in, touching his forehead to Katsuki’s. Neither of them could say a word. Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to give a proper farewell. The boy wanted to grab Eijirou and force him to stay. Maybe he could tie him down, or barter with the nymphs to protect him. Though, Katsuki knew that none of those were the best option for the dragon. Eijirou would have to leave.

He felt the heat leave his forehead. Katsuki watched the dragon give him one last, toothy smile before flying off into the night. Katsuki could only follow his figure until he reached the clouds, where only a wisp of Eijirou was left.

The claw in his hand was cold.

Turning to face the torches, Katsuki could make out a horde of people. They carried pitchforks, weapons, and hatred. They were angry. They were envious. The boy couldn’t help but scream, let the sound know exactly what he intended to do.

He made his promise, and he was going to keep it. Katsuki was going to build his throne of gold, sit upon it, and create a kingdom. Once he did, his dragon would surely return to him.

ahhHH the plot continues to move~ in case you haven't noticed it, these two are about 4 years in the past from the others in their timeline. after this chapter, everyone will be in the same time. hope that isn't too confusing!! thanks for reading ;;; if u have any comments or wanna let me know u liked it!! the like button!!!! i sound like a bad youtuber okay thank u!!!

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#my writing #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fantasy au #kirishima x bakugou #boku no hero academia fantasy au #dragon!kirishima #midoriya izuku #izumi kota #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oh no the next chapters will have so many character tags hhhnnggg #but ayyy slap that like button babes

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ramblingsbyrhi · 7 years

Text

some spoilt brat type wall of words

What I’m about to write isn’t going to be pleasant or enjoyable or uplifting in any way, shape or form, so consider yourself fairly warned before you complain about my whinging as the ability to stop reading is entirely yours.

This stems from the troubles I’m having with my iphone.. hear me out, a web has begun. I’ve had iphones since I was 17, I’ve been through a few of them. I’ve never had major problems though until recently when my camera started malfunctioning for absolutely no apparent reason. At first it was only through apps and then the actual camera itself started shaking and wobbling, so any time I wish to take a photo I have to use the front camera. Which I understand is absolutely the biggest first world problem, but still, I paid over a thousand dollars for a product that I expect to work for a very long time, not for a couple of years then “HEY! We’re releasing unnecessary new products.. oh, whats that? Your phone broke? Well, my! How convenient!”.

Then the classic YOU ARE LOW ON STORAGE annoying as all fuck message started appearing contiiiinually no matter how many things I went through and got rid of (funny how it used to hold over 1000 photos and now it struggles at 5.. just saying is all). I thought, okay, I’ll try the update, that might fix a few bugs, right? Wrong. Try as I might, the iOS update WOULD. NOT. INSTALL. for various reasons, including but not limited to: lack of storage, no internet connection (the wifi was full, hmm), ERROR *insert some number that I googled how to fix, to no avail*, and pretty much no reason at all, just “failed.” Thanks Apple, I really appreciate those hours of my life you wasted. No, really, I probably wouldn’t have done anything productive with them anyway and the anger inspires me.

Everyone’s saying things to me like “Ohhh my god rhi, why don’t you just get the new phone when it comes out?!”. Yeah, that’s all well and good for the average Joe Blow who doesn’t mind the monthly hundred dollar bill. And you know what? That was me not all that long ago. In fact, earlier this year I did try to update my phone and plan however had a MAAASSSSSIVEEE battle with optus who a. sent me the wrong phone b. could not help me in getting the right phone c. agreed to cancel it and nevermind the upgrade because I was over it by then and they said they’d send me a satchel to return the phone in d. never sent me the satchel e. instead sent me a fifteen hundred dollar bill f. finally understood why I didn’t deserve the bill and sent me a satchel g. sent me more ridiculous bills h. sent some debt collecting company after me i. FINALLY helped me get to the bottom of why the fuck I was being sent the bill j. FIIINNALLY agreed to me paying thirty dollars and the account’d be settled k. didn’t bother clearing things up with the debt collectors who wouldn’t leave me alone no matter how many times I explained to them that I literally owed no money as it was Optus’ wrongdoing (I was given various instructions as to clearing my dads [oh yeah, to make matters worse optus refused to put the phone into my name but were more than happy to have me open up a new plan under it] name by several employees of this company, none of which worked). BIG BREATH. So in the end I was glad because instead of paying almost a hundred per month to have a flash new phone, I kept my (what WAS) in-perfect-condition existing phone, and saved money by only paying for the calls and data etc. per month. So now my response to the upgrading suggestion is why? Why should I have to pay more money because of something I already paid a lot of money for that isn’t working, when it should be in order? Why would I pay thousands of dollars for something, only to have to pay thousands more to replace it when it should last, being worth a thousand dollars and all? What the fuck? CONSUMERISM IS INCREDIBLE!

So you can imagine my feelings towards Apple and Optus right now. Which got me thinking about how reliant we are on these absolute piece of shit companies who cannot get it together despite how large they are and how many people have come to depend on them. DEPEND. It’s true, it really can’t be denied. We have come to RELY on always having phones and internet with us, one hundred percent of the time. I toyed with the idea of not having a mobile, because fuck it and fuck them taking all my money for me to still lose. Plus, 10 years ago I got by fine without having one so why can’t I now? And that’s the thing. I’m honestly starting to feel like as a society who have been spoilt with technology, we have become so dependent on it and every single thing we could need being accessible, that it would be weird and at least difficult to live without. Imagine my boss when I tell her I don’t have a mobile anymore, and she’d have to call me in on my home phone (which yes, we do have, but I know many people now do not. WHAT?? HOW?! because on the internet they are RELIANT!). I can’t imagine she’d be very pleased if I were out doing groceries or at the gym or, I don’t know, just enjoying my day off, and she needed me to come in ASAP but I was not at home to answer her phone call. But that’s how things worked not all that long ago, people lived that way and dealt with it. And imagine if I had no/no access to social media. How would I make friends or remain in contact with people, or start “talking” to a guy? That’s how it goes now, isn’t it? You meet or hear of someone you take an interest in, and straight to facebook or Instagram you go, and the rest is history. We joke about it, but it’s true! Is there another way people get to know each other now? Do people even text anymore now that everyone’s all over messenger?? TEN YEARS AGO PEOPLE!!! Life honestly changed in the blink of a fucking eye. A generation ago people kept in contact without all this shit, and they managed to marry and have babies and maintain lifelong friendships! CRAZY. I honestly feel like if the internet and social media were stripped away we’d be beside ourselves (especially those who go t rid of their home phones ;) ).

It’s all too easy and far too accessible. You really can find out too much about someone so quickly now, I imagine privacy and its definition will soon work itself into language of history alongside all that Shakespeare mumble that I regretfully do not understand. And I thoroughly believe that not only is our reliance on the ease and accessibility overall negative, but as is the impact it has upon everyone’s mentality and relationships. Or, what relationships have become with the bittersweet evolution of the www. Which would be what? What are they? What do young, and even older people want these days in regards to a relationship? Let me rattle off a few ideas, great suggestion you! The term “facebook official” is no longer a joke, it’s become a serious indicator about everyone’s status, which, is now apparently the business of everyone they know and a few randoms they’ve accepted in their friend requests along the way. Once two people’s relationship is officially recognised on the FB, I think they’re supposed to chuck up a few pics (ones with kisses on cheeks and selfies in adventurous looking locations, so people know they’re blossoming) and tag each other in emotional statuses, and memes of course. That way everyone can monitor that they’re still happily in love and evolving as a couple. Instagram pics a must as well, and a little mention of each other or at least the inclusion of each other’s initials in the little bio are also a standard requirement I believe. And that way, once the pics stop being uploaded or are deleted, along with the initials and the “SHARE WITH: PUBLIC” relationship status, everyone can know that things didn’t quite work out and they’ve dived back in with the other fish and considered a potential catch until they decide to have a bite of the next one, and the process repeats.

And repeats. And repeats. Or, doesn’t repeat. Because all of that really IS a huge commitment. Like, not only is keeping up appearances online an awful big exercise, but so is the stuff from the olden days that unfortunately we’re still supposed to do a little bit of, like spend genuine time with your SO, surprise them with gifts and flowers, introduce them to your family, begin your futures together, not jack off over other people’s instagrams, commit. Oh, my apologies, how silly of me to suggest that nan and pop jacked off over other people’s instagrams! Hahaha. No, back then these factors never came into play, because they didn’t exist. And by no means am I saying that pop never had a look up another girls ankle length skirt as she paraded up the staircase with a boy from out of town at the local dance, hell, he probably did that several times. PER DANCE. Or flirted with the bar lady at the pub after work, before he came home to nan’s incredible cooking and kept home. But he didn’t get the barmaid’s name, he didn’t look her up on facebook later and sneakily chat with her on MESSENGER while nan did the washing up god bless her. He went home and they became your grandparents because they committed to each other, despite nan checking out the milkman’s bum as he trekked back up the driveway of a morning, or pop watching the perky young woman next door whose bedroom window was positioned in his viewing favour.

They didn’t have the ease of access that we have not only taken for granted, but have let shape us in shitty ways. I truly feel like, and disagree if you want but I know it exists, we’ve become so used to accessing unlimited amounts of people, that we’re always wanting more. If Beyonce is going to get cheated on, who won’t? Is cheating nowadays even the same as it was twenty years ago? Ten years? Is flirting and or exchanging nudes over snapchat cheating? Because nothing physical happened, right? People these days ask for “nudes” (and I can say this with experience) before hardly getting the name of the nude-ee, and I can only imagine the number of requests sent to various people, and the variety they’ve seen, or unfortunately kept. With accessibility comes a massive lack of respect, and it has to go without saying that the concept of respect, and where it is given and deserved, has changed dramatically since pop first kissed nan’s hand at the dance. A “nude” back then would’ve had to have been strategically photographed, developed, enveloped, stamped, sent, waited for, received, and then cherished and kept under the bed, whereas now one could’ve requested and received ten different ones in the time it took me to write this fucking sentence, and even sent two on to his or her equally tasteless mates.

Not to mention the fact that he or she asked ten different people for them would go unquestioned. What is this “talking” that people do anyway? Any time someone has suggested that they and I did “talk” or are “talking” I shudder so hard Christchurch would prepare to rebuild. I think commitment is completely different to what it once was, what with tinder and the like and phones with locks on them and snapchats that disappear, no one has to be loyal to any one person if they don’t want to, and why would they? Why commit to one cake when you could taste a few on the regular, then replace them with the right swipe of your index finger when you feel like it? “Talking” doesn’t refer to anything serious, I don’t think. It’s like when you could probably get it on with someone but you aren’t letting people know about it because you’re “talking” (fucking, I presume) to a couple of other people as well, but you aren’t doing anything wrong or disrespecting anyone really because you aren’t dating you’re only TALKINNNGGG. Have I got it? Can someone confirm, or correct me? I’m so dying to know. And there are that many gorgeous humans in the world, no one can blame you for wanting to window shop and even go try on some things whilst doing so. There’s always going to be a prettier dress, or a comfier hoodie, or a new colour of vans. You can’t just buy the first or fifteenth you see, just in case. Missing out would be THE WORST. And you don’t owe it to any of them to discuss the predecessors or… (what’s the word for predecessors but happening at the same time? anyone? no word? funny that) if you are only talking and you’ve made it clear that that’s all you want. No commitments or relationships here, no sir-eee! And then suddenly your 30th birthday is coming up and you kind of feel like maybe you should have built a life with someone by now but you were too busy gaining notches in your belt and you still aren’t sure which dress you want the most so maybe you’ll give it until 35 before you make a massive decision and settle down and stop unknowingly spreading chlamydia. Maybe. There are far too many babes on Instagram to get through but hopefully another five years will get you close.

I do apologise for the tangent and apparent change in tone, but like I said earlier a web really formed in my mind at the shit performance of my phone. I suppose what I’m kind of but super not really getting at (or trying to, at least), is as great as technology is, I do think it’s really fucked up (a better term cannot be accessed at this time, not unlike the iOS update, strange). The idea of growing up around the time that my dad did, or even before, constantly lingers in the back of my mind. And yes, believe me I realise how pathetic that is coming from me as a type this contradictory slab of words; please understand that I’m grateful for the ease in which I can type up my thoughts as they occur, then share them and quite possibly connect with someone anywhere in the world who can relate at the mere click of a button and copy of a link (poor old pop might think I’m talking about imitating a chain). But I do sometimes feel like a lot of us have missed out on developing respect for each other and relationships of our own in ways that we’ll never even come close to within our society. We don’t put up THAT much of a fight at the fact that companies suck us in and take us for all we’ve got because they KNOW we can’t live without them and the latest and slimmest ever phone in existence. And I can only imagine living like this will only intensify and worsen as we advance in technology and the speed in which we can slide into people’s “dm”s. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s all in my head, but I decided a long time ago to stop holding my breath if even Beyonce had to.

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warriorlid14 · 5 years

Text

Day in, Day Out

Summary: A few months after the war, Ron is overwhelmed. Harry steps in to help.

Words: 6,426

You can find it on AO3 and FFN.

A loud crash followed by cursing woke Harry up. Instantly, he was on his feet, pausing only to grab his wand and glasses and bolting across the hall, to Ron’s room. His heart was in his throat, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he practically burst through the door leading to his best friend’s room, wand drawn, ready to attack anyone to protect himself and Ron.

But all he found was said best friend, crouched beside his bed, quickly wrapping his right hand around the wand on his bed and pointing it at the door the instant Harry burst in, and clenching his left hand around whatever he had been holding. At this second action, he cursed again, dropped his wand, and wrapped his right hand around his left, which Harry suddenly noticed had started bleeding.

“What the hell?” In an instant, Harry was at his side, stepping over the broken shards of glass littering Ron’s floor, cradling his trembling hand into his own. Ron tried to pull away, but Harry pulled harder. “Let me see, will you?”

There were shards of green now buried into his palm where he had mindlessly clenched his hand in a panic, readying himself for an attack. Harry winced in sympathy. “Ron, why were you holding glass with your bare hands?” He didn’t know a spell to remove the glass shards, so he’d have to remove them by hand before mending the cuts.

“The lamp fell,” he said, and hissed as Harry removed the biggest shard. The lamp had been a housewarming gift from Mr. Weasley, a muggle artifact Ron could actually use now that he was living in a mostly muggle apartment.

“I can see that, but why not use your wand to clean this up?” Harry removed the last of the shards and muttered an incantation under his breath, instantly closing up the wounds on Ron’s hand, then muttered a scourgify to clean the blood. A quick reparo and the lamp was whole again, albeit, not as nice with cracks and scratches marring its surface.

“I didn’t- I didn’t think about it.” Harry raised an eyebrow at him, and it was only now that he knew Ron wasn’t in any danger and their apartment wasn’t being attacked and that Ron wasn’t bleeding anymore, that Harry took notice at the disarray around them. Ron’s book bag was open on his bed, quills and loose parchment and old snacks and snack wrappers spilling onto it, and two books that Harry recognized from Auror training were open among the mess. His desk was even worse. Another book lay open, and more quills, as well as about a dozen pieces of parchment all covered in Ron’s messy handwriting. Two coffee mugs, as well as more wrappers. Ron was a stress eater.

“It was stupid,” Ron continued, rushing through his words. “I moved the book too harshly and the lamp fell over. I’m sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep.”

“It’s fine.” And another thing. A small, infuriatingly familiar, empty vial, which was probably the reason Ron’s hands were still trembling. He kept his anger at bay, knowing that it probably wasn’t the best idea to have this argument at- he looked at the clock on the wall- 3 a.m. “What are you still doing awake?” he asked instead, even though he knew the answer.

It had been almost seven months since the end of the war. The first couple of months were still a blur in his mind. A haze of grieving and funerals and pain and rebuilding. They had worked on rebuilding Hogwarts then, himself along with Ron and Hermione and the rest of the DA along with half of those who fought in the battle of Hogwarts. Well, those who had survived, anyway. They hadn’t rebuilt it by the time classes rolled around. But enough of the castle stood standing to be able to hold classes in it. And the student population had dropped. Some due to death or disappearances. Others who had fled due to the war. And still, others who were simply too scared or too weary or who simply didn’t want to return to Hogwarts after what had transpired there. So, after deciding not to admit any new students for the time being, the remaining school population, along with Hermione and Dean and a few others who had decided to return for their NEWTS, returned to Hogwarts to reclaim their education.

And they had rebuilt their lives. Fred’s death had been a devastating blow. Not a day went by in that horrible first month that Molly did not cry at least once. George had refused to speak for a full week, and didn’t leave his bedroom for the first three weeks until Ron and Percy patiently coaxed him out. The entire Weasley household had been suffocatingly silent, holding their breaths, until finally, two months and three days after that fateful day in May, George announced that he was moving back to their, to his, flat above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. And everyone breathed again. It had been slow, but suddenly the Weasleys were smiling again, sometimes even laughed, and a few days after George had announced his decision, Molly began to hum again while she cooked.

Harry and Ron had moved out a few weeks after helping George settle into his flat. They had rented an apartment in Muggle London to avoid public attention, but just a few blocks away from Diagon Alley. Both Harry and Ron had enrolled for Auror training, and much to Harry’s exasperation, Ron began to work part-time at the Three Broomsticks, mostly on weekend nights, to be able to pay his half of the rent because as they were only just aurors-in-training, their pay was low. George had announced during the summer that he would be reopening WWW for the Christmas season, the same day classes would let out for Hogwarts, and had recruited all available hands to help. Harry, Ron, Lee Jordan, and even Percy had all jumped at the occasion, but it was Ron who spent the most hours at the shop or at George’s flat, helping with stocking, and cleaning, and designing and redesigning more wheezes. Harry had been stopping by Hogwarts whenever he could, helping with the continued reconstruction, occasionally joined by Ron and George. All of them stopped by the Burrow as often as the could. Both Harry and Ron had found their purpose in life. They were healing. Their new lives worked.

At least at first.

“I’m studying for the exam tomorrow,” Ron muttered, glancing at his desk. “Go back to sleep.” Ron was frighteningly pale, with bags under his eyes so dark Harry wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually drawn in with ink. He hadn’t bothered with concealing them under glamours this time, and Harry wondered if he simply didn’t care or hadn’t even remembered to. His usually tame hair was sticking out in all directions, and Harry assumed he had probably pulled at it all night in stress. Ron was clearly completely and utterly exhausted.

Which was unfortunately nothing new.

“You told me you had studied already,” Harry said, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

“I did!” Ron said, almost yelling, voice unnaturally high. “But then last night, when I was looking over my notes one last time, I realized I completely skipped over the antidotes for common poisons and the theory behind shield charms. How could I have been so stupid to forget about two fucking sections?” He laughed, but there was a slightly hysterical note to it.

“And I was going to go over it, I was, but then I- I fell asleep.” He took a shaky breath. “It was so stupid. But I was so tired because Rosmerta asked me to cover a shift Tuesday night and then we were running in training all day yesterday and I was restocking all evening after that.” He was talking very fast again, tugging at his hair, and looking so frazzled that Harry briefly wondered if slipping some sleeping draught into his drink would be worth the week-long silent treatment Ron would surely give him.

“So I fell asleep. It was only for an hour, promise,” he said, as if Harry would get mad at him for having the audacity to take a break. “And I started reading, but then George sent me an owl…” And he didn’t have to explain that part. George would only ask for Ron in the middle of the night if he was in the midst of an emotional breakdown.

“So I just, I didn’t have time until now. But I’ve been looking at these notes for hours and I can’t memorize a single fucking thing. And Harry, the shield theory- I don’t get it!” Ron looked completely panicked now, eyes wide, and his breathing was becoming slightly irregular.

“And this exam is at ten and I’m going to completely flunk these two sections and I’m going to be at the bottom of the class and get all the worst assignments in the field and we won’t be partnered together, and I’ll have to be paired up with the likes of Cormac fucking McLaggen and my entire Auror career will be a joke all because I’m too much of an idiot to understand shield theory!” Ron’s voice had become louder and more high-pitched through his speech, and he was shaking now, and bloody hell, he looked like he might actually cry.

Harry immediately wrapped him up in a hug. “Hey,” he said, trying to make his voice sound soothing. “Breathe, mate. You’re going to fine. You’re not thinking straight. Your entire career isn’t going to be over if you fail this exam.”

Ron shook his head and struggled against Harry’s hold. “Let me go. I need to study.”

“What you need is a nap. When’s the last time you slept a full eight hours? Hell, when’s the last time you slept a full four hours?”

“I don’t have time!” Ron yelled, finally managing to escape Harry’s grasp. “I need to study and then go fail this exam and then go to work and then finish restocking because the opening for WWW is in two weeks. So if you want to help, go get me another cup of coffee.” He took a deep breath, but it did nothing to stop the trembling.

“If you drink another cup of coffee, you might actually combust.”

“Then just leave me alone! I need to learn this.” Ron stood up to go to his desk.

Harry sighed, and stood up, biting back an angry retort. “Ron.” He ignored him, picking up the book and plopping down on his chair, grabbing a piece of parchment from the table and glaring down at it, but his eyes were unfocused and Harry knew there was no way he was actually concentrating on what he was reading. Harry stomped over and pulled the chair back. “Ron. At least go take a shower.”

“Didn’t I just say-”

“Listen to me,” Harry said, giving him a steely look. “You are completely out of it. You will not learn anything like this. Go take a shower to clear your head.”

“Harry, I don’t have time!” He stole a glance at the clock, which was now at 3:20 a.m and began breathing heavily again.

Harry placed his hands on Ron’s shoulders. “Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes. I’ll help you study when you come back.”

Ron shook his head. “You need to sleep, too. You’ve already been woken up by three nightmares this week.”

Harry blushed a bit, but then shook his head and fixed a glare on Ron. “Ronald Weasley, if you do not listen to me, I will stun you right now and force you to sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”

Ron scoffed. “You wouldn’t.” But at Harry’s stoic expression, he looked a bit worried. He stole a glance at his wand, probably wondering whether he could get to it in time, but Harry wasn’t concerned. Even if Ron got his hands on his wand, he wouldn’t be much of a challenge in this state. Finally, he growled an angry, “Okay, Mum.” But he still got up and stomped to his closet to pull out, Harry huffed in frustration, his Auror robes, as he had not changed out of his WWW uniform and clearly had no intention of sleeping before his test.

“Your insults are better when you’re fully awake, you know,” Harry called after Ron’s retreating form and received a two-finger salute and a door slam for his troubles.

Harry sighed and began to pick up the mess on Ron’s bed, stuffing it back into his book bag. He had tried to be supportive, to stay out of Ron’s way and keep his retorts at a minimum even on days when he would find Ron dozing off during their lunch break, too tired to even attempt to hide his exhaustion from Harry. Not that it worked very well. They lived together after all, and Harry had known Ron for the better part of a decade. He knew his best friend better than anyone else. So Harry wasn’t fooled by Ron’s jokes and bright smiles and constant reassurances that he was just fine. Even the Weasleys were beginning to notice, despite the fact that Ron had become frighteningly good at disguising his true feelings from them after the war and now his seemingly chronic exhaustion.

Mrs. Weasley had pulled him aside the last time they were at the Burrow, asking Harry if Ron was doing okay. Out of a sense of loyalty to Ron and not wanting to cause her any concern, Harry had responded that he was fine, that auror training was just becoming a little more intense. Harry was sure that George had noticed too, though Ron concealed his emotions from him more than anyone, so he might have not realized just how much he was wearing himself down. Besides, George had come to depend on Ron more than anyone in the months following Fred’s death, both emotionally and professionally at WWW, so Ron was more likely to cut off his own foot than to admit to George that volunteering his time at the joke shop was a source of tremendous stress. Hell, he would never even admit it to Harry.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts, Ron had been the one to keep him and Hermione sane and relatively healthy. He would joke with Harry and drag him out for a game of Quidditch whenever he would brood too much. He would coax Hermione to take a break and sleep whenever she became too absorbed in her school work. He would make sure Harry’s plate was full during meals or slip out some snacks for Hermione whenever she was too busy studying to stop by the Great Hall to eat. He would put his foot down when he thought either of them were in over their heads in whatever new scheme they had come up with to stop Voldemort or Malfoy or Snape or fight for the protection of magical beings. A pillar of strength. Their rock.

And he still was. Harry would still often wake up to concerned blue eyes staring down at him after a nightmare, a cup of tea and a game of chess always ready at the dining table. He wrote to Hermione every day, always reminding her to eat and sleep with half-hearted threats that he’d break into Hogwarts if she wasn’t (very hypocritical, really). He’d snap at reporters and glared down at Harry’s overenthusiastic fans who did not understand the meaning of personal space.

But now his role had expanded.

The Weasleys had always been a close knit family, and they still were. But Charlie was back in Romania for his job. Bill was starting a family, and Ginny was back at Hogwarts. Percy tried. He did. He ran home whenever he was summoned and offered to help his father in the tool shed and checked all of George’s WWW paperwork. But the effects of his two-year absence, his two-year betrayal, still hung in the air. All the Weasleys had forgiven him, and Harry was sure that there was almost no lingering resentment left. But there was an awkwardness that never really went away. Percy was too agreeable now, never argued, never had a retort or pursed his lips in disagreement, or was every really himself. And try as he might, he would never be able to completely understand the horror of every battle, the constant peril the Weasleys put themselves in, the fear of being discovered or constantly running for their lives.

So Ron had stepped up. He cheerily helped his mother with household chores when he stopped by. Hugged her and reassured her whenever she got misty-eyed. He dragged his father out to lunch with him every other day, and then dragged him out to Muggle shops if he became too quiet, too withdrawn, lost in memories of his fallen son. And he always, always, responded if George needed him.

Harry understood Ron’s need to be his family’s emotional support. Hell, half the time he was there with him. It was who Ron was. Reliable and loyal, never one to stand back when the people he loved were hurting. And it was also a way for Ron to heal from his own emotional scars.

So if Harry came home to find Ron fast asleep on the couch, with shoes on and still fully dressed in one of the three different uniforms he owned? Well, he’d summon Ron’s blanket and cover him with it. And he’d pack an extra lunch whenever Ron slept through his alarm clock and didn’t wake up in time to cook his own. He’d throw a snack at him whenever he ran to the floo, rushing to his next destination without a meal and had a cup of coffee ready the morning after a long shift at the Three Broomsticks. Harry didn’t mind picking up some of Ron’s chores or nudging him in training whenever he became a little too drowsy. Whatever his decisions were, Harry fully supported his best friend.

Except that Ron was a full-time auror trainee, homework and exams and all. And he was also working twenty hours a week at a bar. And he was also helping his brother open up his store practically from scratch after it had been so thoroughly destroyed after the war. And he was always on call whenever his family or friends needed his support. And he was forcing himself to smile and joke and laugh every single day, no matter how exhausted or emotionally drained he was. But he was still having nightmares, waking up screaming once or twice a week, calling out for his friends and family, but mostly for Fred or Hermione or Harry himself. And when he didn’t think anyone was looking, he would drop the smile, a far-off, misty look in his eye that reminded Harry of the time he had found him sobbing in his dad’s tool shed a week after Fred’s funeral, and Harry’s heart clenched at the sight.

Harry grabbed the empty vial off Ron’s desk and sat down on his bed. Day in, Day out, read the inscription. Used to keep a person awake and alert for thirty-six hours at a time. Not to be used more than twice a week or twice a month. Not to be used with caffeine. Not to be used as a long-term sleep replacement.

Ron had promised he wouldn’t take it anymore two weeks prior after his hand had shook so much, he dropped two teacups he had been holding.

Ron was cracking under the pressure. If something didn’t change, if something didn’t give, he would break. Harry didn’t know what that would look like, and he definitely had no intentions on finding out. It was now Harry’s turn to firmly put his foot down and intervene. Even if it required certain sacrifices from his part.

By the time Ron emerged into the room ten minutes later, red hair still dripping a bit, he was looking far more focused and a little sheepish. “I’m good now. You can go back to sleep.”

But Harry simply patted the space next to him on the floor where he was leaning against the bed, notes neatly arranged in front of him. Ron relented, sitting next to Harry cross-legged. “Let’s go over potions first, yeah? See what you already know.”

It turned out that with a clearer head, Ron was able to remember a lot more (who would’ve thought?). So after an hour of being quizzed by Harry, Ron could recite most of the potions’ uses and ingredients without consulting his notes, only stumbling over a few of the most obscure ingredients. It was when they moved on to shield theory though, that they seemed to hit a wall.

“It’s no use,” Ron announced, slamming his book shut angrily after forty minutes of Harry’s patient lecturing. “Forget it, Harry. I’m a lost cause.”

“You’re not stupid, Ron,” Harry said tolerantly, already guessing at what was going through his friend’s mind. “Shield theory is extremely convoluted.”

“You understand it,” Ron grumbled.

“Yes,” Harry said, keeping his annoyance out of his voice. “Because I’ve spent every night for the last week going over my notes. And I did it while I was awake.” As if to prove his point, Ron chose that moment to involuntarily let out a yawn. “And it helped that I wasn’t drugged out of my mind,” Harry said, with a pointed look at the empty vial on Ron’s desk.

Ron had the good sense to blush at that. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Find a better hiding spot next time.” Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to say that Harry should stop barging into his room next time, but Harry cut him off. “Besides. You’re loads better than me at nonverbal spells and the best in the class at intuitive and emotion-based magic and strategy. You’re not going to suddenly drop to the bottom of the class because of shield theory.”

“But if I don’t know the nuances behind how shields work, I won’t be able to improve my technique.” Despite his words, Harry was pleased to note that the bitterness had dropped from his voice and he had picked up the book again and placed it on his lap.

“Your shields are fine,” Harry said firmly. “May I remind you that you’ve already successfully defended yourself out in the field? You’ve fought death eaters and are still alive, aren’t you? It’s more important to be able to perform the spell than to understand why it works.”

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but he yawned again instead, and rubbed at his eyes. Harry removed the book from his lap. “Go wash your face. We’ll go through it again when you come back."

Harry smiled despite himself when Ron obeyed without argument.

They spent the next two hours going over the complexities of shield theory. Hermione would have probably been able to explain it more eloquently than Harry, but this was Harry and Ron, and they understood each other better than anyone else, so Ron didn’t have too much trouble discerning Harry’s gibberish. To Harry’s complete lack of shock, Ron eventually understood the concept, at least the basic and fundamental principles of how it worked, despite not fully grasping the nitty gritty details. But as Harry had pointed out, to fully understand the complexities of shield theory they’d need more time than what they had.

Eventually though, after the third or fourth time Ron had dropped his head on Harry’s shoulder and then hastily picked it up while attempting to look at the text Harry was reading from, Harry had to stop them.

"Ron, you’re falling asleep.”

“Mm not,” Ron muttered sleepily, making no attempt to remove his head from Harry’s shoulder, and when Harry glanced at him, his eyes were drooping.

Harry poked him hard in the ribs. “Ron.”

“Okay, okay, I’m up,” he grumbled, rubbing his side and glaring blearily at Harry. “This potion is rubbish. Thirty-six hours my arse. It barely worked thirty-six minutes.”

“It’s not a miracle worker. Plus, I reckon you’ve grown an immunity to it,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. Then, more quietly, tone serious, “You promised me you’d stop using it, Ron.” The concern was evident in his voice.

Ron gave him a guilty look then glanced down at his lap. “It was just for today. I need to pass this exam.” At Harry’s raised eyebrow, he added, “Promise.”

Harry leaned back against the bed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t go on like this, mate.”

“Like what?” Ron said hotly, suddenly defensive.

Harry didn’t even blink at the sudden hostility. He gave him an incredulous look and pointed his hand at him, “Like this! You’re completely exhausted, Ron! You’ve barely slept a few hours this week! You’re running on sheer stubbornness and caffeine and potions. You’re dead on your feet!”

“I’m fi-”

“Don’t. Even. Start.” Harry snarled. “You almost had a panic attack over an exam. Over school work! And last I checked, your name isn’t Hermione Granger.”

Ron slumped to the ground, knowing it was pointless to argue. “The shop opens in two weeks. I’ll be able to get more sleep after that.”

“Except you won’t. Because then the shop will be full of customers, and you’ll be helping George run the shop,” Harry pointed out. Ron didn’t dispute this. “And no matter how brilliant and successful he is, the shop won’t be pulling in profits for at least six more months what with all the loans for repairs and new products. So it’s not like he’d be able to pay you until then even though he wants to.”

“I’m not doing it for the money, Harry.” And there was that defensiveness in his voice again.

“I know that,” Harry said, but despite his exasperation, he couldn’t help but spill a little fondness in his voice. “I’m just saying, at this rate, you won’t be able to leave the Three Broomsticks within the next six months, best case scenario. And we won’t see a raise pay in Auror training until next year when we’ll be helping out in the field. And Ron, you can’t do six more months of this.”

Ron ran a hand through his hair, and when he spoke next, Harry had never heard him sound so tired. “Then it looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’m not leaving George, Harry. I’m not.”

“I wasn’t suggesting-” But Ron interrupted him.

“And being an Auror has been our dream since we were kids. And I kind of need to be able to pay rent, Harry.”

“Except you don’t,” Harry said. Ron narrowed his eyes at him, and Harry knew that he was in dangerous territory. There was practically a caution sign in the air, but Harry wasn’t backing down. Not from this. “Quit your job at the Three Broomsticks.”

“No.” His tone suggested that there was no room for discussion. Harry barrelled on.

“Look, you can’t-”

“I’m not taking your money. I’m not. I’m-”

“A grown adult who can take care of himself, I know,” Harry said, quoting a previous argument. “I’m not suggesting I pay your rent.” Then, after a pause, “I’m suggesting we move out. Somewhere more affordable.”

That took Ron by surprise for a moment, but then he shook his head. “Where? I thoroughly checked before we moved in. There aren’t that many places cheaper than here that are this convenient. And absolutely nowhere would be cheap enough to afford on our current salaries. Not in Muggle London, anyway. And if we stick to wizarding communities like Hogsmede, we won’t be able to step out of our place without being harassed by reporters. You, especially. And anyway, even if I there was a cheap enough flat, you shouldn’t have to live in a shitty place because I can’t keep my shit together,” he said that last part quietly, and Harry opened his mouth to angrily to protest, but Ron cut him off. “And we’re not moving back into the Burrow. Look, I love my parents. I do. But we’ve been on our own since we left Hogwarts, and if I have to move back in, I might just have to jump out my window.”

“Well, some of that was a load of horseshit,” Harry said. “But I wasn’t suggesting the Burrow or another flat or anywhere we’d have to pay rent.” At Ron’s questioning look, he took a deep breath and making sure there was absolutely no reluctance in his voice, said, “Grimmauld Place.”

Ron immediately shook his head. “You mean the place that reminds you of Sirius every time you walk in? The one that holds traumatic memories of the war? No, Harry. We’re not doing it. That place reeks of darkness.”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, hoping he sounded convincing. “It’s the perfect solution. We wouldn’t have to worry about rent because it’s already mine. And before you say anything, it’s not like I paid for it with hard work or anything. Sirius left it to me, and he loved you and Hermione. He’d be fine with it. And the girls will be back from Hogwarts soon for the holidays. They can help us move out and we could recruit them and your brothers to get rid of dark objects. We’d even get a chance to practice all the brilliant new spells we’re learning against the portrait of Sirius’s mom.”

“That place is not good for you. There’s a reason we don’t go there anymore!”

“And maybe it’s time to stop running away from it. It’s not like I don’t think about the war every second of every day,” Harry admitted. “It’s just a house. I’ll be okay. And anyway, being reminded about Sirius isn’t a bad thing.”

Ron shook his head, unconvinced. “Look,” Harry continued. “What you’ve been doing all this time? Being there for your family and friends? Helping your brother restart his dream? Working towards your own dream? Supporting yourself financially? It’s brilliant, mate. Truly. But it’s getting out of hand. You don’t sleep. You barely eat actual meals, mostly snacks and coffee. You’re a nervous wreck and for good reason! Ron, you’re killing yourself.”

Ron still didn’t budge, and Harry had to resist the urge to throttle him. It was like pulling teeth with this one, sometimes. “I fought this war to make sure that my family was fine, and right now, you are not fine. You won’t be able to help your family the way you want to if you continue like this. You’ll fall apart. And I need you to be okay, Ron. Let me help you.”

It was a bit manipulative, but if it cut through his best friend’s stubbornness, he didn’t care. Ron didn’t answer for a few minutes, leaning against the bed, lost in thought. Harry could practically see the warring thoughts flashing in his friend’s eyes. But despite the concentration in his eyes, there was also that look of bone-deep weariness. And his face was still pale. And the bags under his eyes were still a deep purple, almost black. That removed any doubt from Harry’s mind that this was the right thing to do.

“If we do this-” Harry smiled, so Ron emphasized “IF. It’ll only be until I’m official staff at WWW. And then we leave that shit hole.” Harry nodded. “And the instant, and listen to me very carefully Harry, the instant you begin to get more nightmares, or depressed, or whatever negative effect that house on you, we leave. Immediately.”

The “we” wasn’t even a question for either of them in any of these scenarios. After the Horcrux hunt, it was completely ludicrous to even think about living separately. Hermione leaving to Hogwarts was hard enough. If Ron lived away from him, too, well, he might also have to jump out Ron’s window.

“Okay.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need more reassurance than that. You need to promise that you’ll tell me if that house begins to affect you negatively.” Ron was dead serious, and Harry felt that surge of both exasperation and fondness again.

“I promise,” Harry said. Ron gave him a searching look. After a few seconds, he must’ve concluded he wasn’t lying, because he nodded, and fell back against the bed.

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this. I’ll hand in Rosmerta my resignation letter tomorrow. She’ll be devastated. She’s quite fond of me, you know.”

Harry laughed, half at Ron’s comment, half in relief. "I’m sure.”

Ron nodded, and rubbed at his eyes again. “Okay, so, what were you saying about the intention of every wand movement?”

“Right!” Harry said, and continued to explain the chapter they had left off on. Not a minute later, though, Ron’s head had fallen on Harry’s shoulder again. He yawned.

“I’m really, really tired Harry,” he admitted in a mumble.

“Go on, then. Take a nap.”

He shook his head. “I really almost lost it over an exam, didn’t I?” There was a small grin on the corner of his mouth.

Harry snorted. “Yeah. If I wasn’t here, I would never believe it. I should’ve taken a picture because Hermione will surely think I’m lying.”

“Well, don’t tell her, you traitor. Go on, then. Keep reading. I’m listening.”

So Harry did for two minutes, Ron not moving from Harry’s shoulder or opening his eyes. Harry reached for his wand, ready to levitate Ron onto his bed, sure he was lost to the world already, but Ron’s voice stopped him.

“Still listening. Continue.”

“Ron, you are clearly falling asleep.”

“Nah. And even if I did, you’re not very comfortable. I’d wake up within minutes.” Harry lightly smacked him on the head. “See? Can’t sleep here. Besides, I’m not sure if I’d be able to wake up, and I can’t miss the exam or work. I’ll just stay up and you can hit me with an enervate before the exam.”

Harry gave him an incredulous look, not that it had any effect, as Ron still had his eyes closed. “Ron, you just told me you’re quitting.”

“Sure, but I can’t just not show up. It’d be a dick move. They’d be short-staffed on a weekend. It’ll be a week or two before I can leave.”

Harry considered it for a second, then said, “What if I picked up your shift? Just for tomorrow, so that you get to sleep.”

Ron snorted. “You don’t know shit about waiting tables.”

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Harry would come to realize that the answer was very fucking hard, but that was a different story.

“Do you really want to be out in public like that? A lot of people frequent the Three Broomsticks. I’m just lucky they’re used to me already.”

“Rosmerta doesn’t allow reporters in there, though.”

“Yeah, but-”

“It’ll be fine. And I’ll go to the shop early on Saturday with you to help with the restocking. You’ll finish faster and get to sleep some more before your Saturday shift,” Harry said with sudden determination, concern for his friend winning out any reservations he may have had.

“Didn’t you promise Nev that you’d help him on Saturday?”

Harry waved his hand. “They can make do. You’re more important to me than restoring some library.” Incredible how there was a time that the mere thought of admitting something like that out loud would make him blush.

“Don’t let Hermione hear you say that,” Ron teased, but his voice was affectionate.

“Hermione would agree. Now go on. Off to bed with you.” Harry nudged him, and this time Ron removed himself from Harry’s side. He shook his head.

“No, I’m not done,” he said, and reached for a sheet of parchment. Harry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“You already know the basics, and you won’t be able to process anything else right now.”

He shook his head again, and rubbed his eyes. “I won’t wake up if I take a nap, and I want to go over everything at least one more time.”

“I’ll wake you up,” Harry said.

“Mate, you should go to sleep if you’re serious about picking up my shift and then waking up early to go to the shop. My shift doesn’t end until 3 a.m after clean up and George is expecting me at 7 a.m on Saturday.”

Harry gave him a look, and Ron sighed. “Half an hour, yeah?”

“An hour and a half.”

“Forty-five minutes and that’s the most I’ll concede. You have to wake me up, though. I’ll hex you if you don’t, Potter.” But of course, there was no malice in his voice.

“I will. Eventually.” Ron gave him a scandalized look and Harry put his hands up. “Kidding. I’ll wake you up in forty-five minutes.”

Ron nodded, then stood up and crawled into his bed, seeming to pass out the instant his head hit the pillow. Harry stood up and headed towards the door, opening it quietly, and turning off the light.

“Harry?” He stopped. “Thanks for looking out for me, mate.” The voice was quiet, on the edge of sleep.

“Of course. Always.” But Harry wasn’t sure if Ron was even awake long enough to hear his response.

Harry headed to the kitchen and began making breakfast for two, fully aware that Ron would scarf the eggs down in less than a minute with one hand while holding a book in his other hand. He kept a careful watch on the clock the entire time, keeping an eye out for the forty-five minute mark. He took two coffee mugs from the cabinets, paused, then returned one of the mugs and took out a tea cup instead.

With fifteen minutes to spare, he sat down at the dining table and took a sip of his coffee. He wasn’t looking forward to moving into Grimmauld Place. Not in the slightest. But, well… His mind flashed back to Ron’s sunken eyes. It’d be worth it. And it wasn’t like Ron had looked forward to sleeping in a tent in a forest for months.

When the clock hit the forty-five minute mark, he stood up, then stopped, smiled mischievously and sat back down. Fifteen more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

#warriorlid writes #ron weasley #harry potter #harry and ron

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ick25 · 5 years

Text

Rockman.Exe Episode 54 Review.

Let’s play “What is Mahajarama holding?”

A stuffed big foot/chimp plush?

The episode opens with an advertisement for some noodle restaurant with a Navi name Sanukiman.

For the ad he makes a simple dance that Netto, Meiru and Tohru copy for fun.

Netto asks Meiru about Dekao who wasn’t in school and she tells him that Dekao’s younger brother Chisao has come to visit him from Ameroupe. Netto is curious about what he would look like since he has a poorly drawn image of a mini Dekao in his head, but after the tittle card, everyone is suspicious that Chisao looks nothing like him.

WOW, Meiru.... Dekao is standing right there! o_o

Tohru asks Chisao why he doesn’t live with his brother in Akihara. Chisao tells them that he lives with his dad who works in Ameroupe where he attends a special kinder garden for “Genius” kids, according to Yaito.

Again? We are being very mean today, not just against Dekao, because Chisao tells them how his brother told him in his e-mails that they are his worthless and stupid pupils.

This angers everyone secretly because they remember that Dekao begged them to pretend that he is the best Net battler in the city and that they were all ex-gangsters in fourth grade that he reformed, just so Chisao could respect him.

In the next scene we see a long line in front of a restaurant, then the same ad with Sanukiman’s dance with everyone imitating him again.

This silly dance is gonna be important later on.

Looks like Chisao’s welcome party is gonna be in a new Udon restaurant called Heineken that just opened, conveniently, next to the Ex-WWW’s curry shop, which looks completely deserted. Netto and friends mention that they have reservations at the restaurant but the WWW suddenly appear to scold Netto for betraying them or something.

“And besides, you guys have tried to kill me in multiple occasions, I don’t owe you anything!”

The Ex-WWW proceed to insult the Udon shop and this infuriates the owner named Kotaro Saburou who starts to argue with Mahajarama.

He has a point.

To spite him even further, Mahajarama steals Netto and his friends by offering them free curry, something he later regrets when they leave various stacks of empty plates.

Hey, Gulping Netto is back!

In another scene, we see Saburou contemplating a bowl of Udon noodles and then spying on the curry restaurant through two peep holes on the wall located in a menu along with a new code!

Which is the code for shrinking the “Collect” program, that is also the most expensive item in the menu.

After eating almost all of the curry in the shop, Chisao tells Dekao that he wants to see him and Gutsman in a Net Battle, so Dekao asks for permission to use the net (I’m guessing free Wi-fi was not a thing here yet) and everyone plugs in their Navis.

Just like Dekao, Gutsman is pretending to be a super powerful Navi and tells the others to attack, unfortunately for him, Rockman forgets about their arrangement for a second and shoots at him leading to probably my favorite scene from this episode.

I just love how Gutsman is scared to death of Rockman’s buster shots. XD

Anyway, Roll reminds Rockman what he was suppose to do and Dekao orders Gutsman to attack.

That dramatic pain shot followed by Rockman softly landing on his back is so funny.

Then he proceeds to attack the rest of the Navis, including Rush.

I don’t know about that, Rush seems to be enjoying himself.

After seeing Gutsman in action, Chisao gets excited and asks to operate him, and just out of nowhere, makes a perfect PROGRAM ADVANCE!

Yeap, apparently the whole “Navi and operator must be in perfect sync” is just something Miyuki made up, because if a preschooler can make Gutsman summon a Beta Sword while he is in shock, then episode 15 was just a huge waste of time... Or Netto was just really dumb.

And not only does Gutsman copy the steps like Rockman, but when Chisao sends the Sword he does the same reaction Rockman did in the Planetman episode.

You can’t fool me anime!

Legendary technique my butt.

Everyone is amazed after seeing Chisao use a program Advance that almost hits Rockman, but after he says how he wants to be as strong as his brother, Dekao feels guilty and takes the PET away from him.

If anyone should be pissed here it should be Netto, that kid just did what he took many episodes to perfect in only two minutes!

After this, we see Chisao sitting all alone somewhere in town when a disguised stranger, who is totally not Saburou, gives him a PET with a Navi to help him fight some alien spice monsters he just made up. That night, while Dekao is sleeping, Chisao sees his new Navi, at first he is disappointed when he sees it, but turns out the Navi can shape shift into anything he wants.

Right after this, Netto gets a called from a worried Gutsman telling him that Chisao has gone missing.

Then we go to the Curry shop where we see Mahajarama in his pajamas and his stuffed monkey discovering that everything in the shop is out of control. The other WWW operators believed it was the work of the Udon shop and sent their Navis to deal with them, but Heatman and the others were captured by a Navi that looks just like Gutsman named Nuggetsman AKA Kutzman.

After commercials, Netto and the others split up to look for Chisao while he stays with a very worried Dekao. And I like this shot because it looks like Netto just hit Dekao.

“That’s what you get for calling me your stupid pupil!”

Back in the curry computer, Mahajarama sends Magicman to save the other WWW Navis, but Kutzman uses them as a shield to block his Magic Fire attack.

What’s worse is that Kutzman’s noodle like tentacles prevents the WWW operators to plug out their Navis.

Chisao attacks Magicman by sending a made up chip that doesn’t exist in the game called “Hi-Guts Beam”, and it looks like something Masa-san would have.

ITS A TUNA THAT FIRES A LASER!

This defeats Magicman and creates more damage to the curry shop. Dekao and Netto see smoke coming out of the store and go in to investigate, where a very angry WWW is telling Dekao to stop Chisao.

After hearing this, Netto and Dekao send their Navis into the computer where Rockman frees the WWW Navis by shooting at the tentacles and allowing them to log-out.

They are surprised to see that the Navi looks like Gutsman and that Chisao is the operator. Not-Saburo tells Chisao that Dekao and Netto are fakes, and Chisao believes him because he tells Dekao that he is weak after Gutsman and Rockman receive a hit from two more laser tuna chips.

Ouch.

Netto tells Dekao that he is being fooled by someone and they both fight back to destroy the tunas.

Now I have shots of Rockman and Gutsman killing tunas.

They proceed to attack Kutzman as well but he repels them with his noodle tentacles. Rockman tries to fire his buster, but Gutsman stops him and says that it is Dekao who should save his brother. After this, Kutzman uses a titus gun that looks like a Vulcan chip and shoots... Fried dough, I think?

I guess the dub doesn’t need to cut this shot because it is not firing anything potentially dangerous.

The WWW searches for Chisao inside the store with no luck, and all seems lost until Kutzman suddenly does something stupid that gives away his identity.

Yeap! That stupid dance from the noodle ad revealed to everyone that Kutzman is actually Sanukiman, the mascot for the Heineken Udon shop.

So immediately after, Dekao kicks down the door of the Udon shop and tells Chisao that he’s been fooled. Chisao doesn’t believe him until Dekao does something that forced the dub to skip it, pull down his pants and show him his birthmark.

I am not gonna take a screenshot of that, so trust me when I say that we don’t actually see the birthmark, I even had to open my eyes just to make sure. And now I will never get that image of Dekao’s butt crack out of my head T T.

Gutsman reveals Sanukiman’s true form with his Guts Hammer while Dekao and Netto scold Saburo for what he did.

Saburo orders Sanukiman to attack Gutsman but Rockman protects him with his Buster. Then we get this unusual scene that I like for some reason.

I needed this so bad after what I saw, DON’T JUDGE ME!

Dekao sends Gutsman a Gold Fist Battle chip (which sounds familiar), he defeats Sanukiman, Chisao and Dekao celebrate and Saburo surrenders.

Now I remember! Nobody returned the Battle Chips Yaito stole from Higure’s counter in episode 33?! Then Netto did kept that meteor chip! O0O

The next morning, Hinouken threatens Saburo, Netto asks why so much hate and the WWW say that Udon and Curry can’t go together (Like they are suddenly so obsessed with curry). Netto reminds them that there is a dish called Curry Udon and Mahajarama gets an epiphany, with the same code for shrinking Collect in the background.

In case you didn’t see the code in the menu.

With tears in their eyes, both parties make peace and look forward to a brilliant new future for their stores. Even Chisao finds Netto’s argument inspiring, Netto tries to give credit to Dekao but he grabs him to talk in private.

And he does...

Okay, I think the writers wanted this to be just a joke for this episode, but in the later seasons they needed an excuse for Dekao to leave Japan for some reason.

I’m saying this because the next scene morning, we see the Udon stor closed and Dekao feeding Netto a noodle from a udon curry he did and then eates the rest in front of him.

And the episode ends with Netto yelling at Dekao for only feeding him one noodle and eating the rest, with a heart closing in on chisao.

My thoughts?

First of all, Udon is a type of noodle that is commonly used in Japanese cuisine, and Sanuki is a special type of udon. I had no idea there were different types of noodles.

I’m not a fish expert like Masa, but I did some research and it looks like the fish in the High Guts beam chip is a Skipjack tuna, a tuna that is used very often in Japanese cuisine which is known as Katsu or Katsubushi, so I think there was a pun in here somewhere.

Dekao and Chisao’s names are puns, with Dekao meaning “Big Guy” and Chisao meaning “Little Guy”.

You might have noticed that Chisao says “-chu” all the time. I think that’s a way of saying that he is so little that he sounds like a mouse, since Chu is the sound a mouse makes.

So, this episode introduces Chisao who will, for some reason, appear unnecessarily often in future seasons, and in that regard, the episode also gives a tiny hint of what will happen to Dekao too. As I mentioned before, I think that it was originally just a joke for the end of this episode since it is not brought up again until the next season. I don’t know if they were already planning Axess, but let’s not think about that for now.

Who knows what happened after Saburou and the WWW make peace because we don’t see him or Sanukiman ever again.

#Rockman.exe #MegaMan NT Warrior #megaman battle network #anime #dub vs sub #My Reviews #ick25 #anime review

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