#because cannon kind of feels like what if we can make him worse? And honestly one day I will head into CK with a big ole shovel

[desolateice]

17 for the ao3 wrapped? :]

17. Your favorite character to write this year? This is hard. They're so many that are so fun. 💖 I love writing Daniel's rants and monologues. Whether it's because the fish stick that is mer!Johnny is stretching out his sweaters in Newark, or won't stop cuddling him as a snake!Johnny or ranting about pizza in Root Beer Floats and Green Tea, or being confused about language in Konpeito or all his terribly wonderful ideas it's just fun to write essentially a long internal monologue for him. His spirals while being pretty gutting are also fun to write. And his grief that he carries is also somewhat cathartic to write. I also like making him just a horny mess all the time. My other fav monologuer is Dutch. 😂 In my head no matter where I put him in a story it means chaos and fun is about to happen even if it won't always be fun for Johnny or Daniel. And I love writing him and Bobby because I like to write them as opposites. Bobby trying to keep everyone safe and out of trouble and Dutch ready to burn the world to the ground for fun. Chaos and mischief ready to get into a brawl or murder for his friends and Bobby just trying to reign him in. Though all of the cobras mean fun are on the way. Sometimes a character surprises me pending the fic. As I explored the characters in Okinawa in Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I ended up really enjoying writing Chozen and Kumiko. Which is why Buku Buku Cha exists. Because I looked at Tomi Village and wondered why, why would Chozen snap like and once Buku Buku Cha is over I may write at length about the head cannon reason I have for that. But I also love giving Chozen and Kumiko sibling arguing energy where they love each other but will tease each other to death. The other one that surprised me and I am having a lot of fun writing Sid in Cherry Cordial. I've written further than what's been posted, but I may have accidentally given him some Gomez Addams energy. 😅 Generally I paint him as a black and white villain but he's totally gray in Cherry Cordial and it's kind of fun. I do enjoy writing the adults and extra side characters a lot too, Laura and Lucille and Mr. Miyagi. Miyagi sensei in Buku Buku Cha has been fun too. But despite how much I love them all, really it's probably Johnny whose my favorite to write which is spawned by a curiosity of if he got kindness and love and support that wasn't ripped from him then what would happen intrigues me. If he's given a chance to apologize and actually improve, to grow and to heal that's so fascinating to me to explore. I like I guess poking at his wounds and then healing them. It gives me hope that he can avoid all the awful stuff that happens later so I enjoy writing him and what the relationships with other characters becomes and how it can improve his life. If only he got the support he needs, the care and love. Thank you for asking 💖 It's a lot of fun to answer these.

If anyone else wants to ask, I've answered 2, 5, 10, 16 and 19 the prompt is here.

[galaxygermdraws]

Finally designing the Sonic cast. or. at least. Some of them. There are too many characters in this franchise these are just the ones I think about the most often. So uh. Ya. I will leave any notes under the cut since I have a lot, although not every character will have notes because we haven't explored every character (and share them with @shadesofvermillionvoid)

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

Sonic

Sonic's earring is Chip's bracelet. I don't think Sonic particularly likes having anything on his wrists, and Sonic Forces made that worse

The regulators are based directly on Sonic Prime, as I love the regulators in that show and think the idea of giving Sonic something similar to Shadow's Inhibitor Rings makes a lot of sense

He got those little markings due to accidentally absorbing some of Chaos' DNA

Tails

Tails has goggles like in Sonic Boom, because I like Boom Tails' design

He still has his robotic bits from Sonic Lost World, he still managed to keep his free will, but what happened was Zavok used his ability to control robots to force Tails to fight Sonic. Since then, Tails has updated his cybernetics so he can filter out any suspicious frequencies that could take his free will.

The cannon arm from Lost World is now basically like the guns from Mario and Rabbids, where you hold it in your hand and it like covers your arm. It's like that

Tails is a skeptic. This is the funniest bit but also thanks to Boom (the bad luck episode) it has some precedence

Knuckles

Knuckles in our lore is deeply spiritual (we are developing Mobian belief systems because we are Insane) , and the first time he saw Sonic he noticed he looked similar to the murals in Hidden Palace. So when Sonic turned out to be good, that made sense to him, as Sonic was common in a lot of prophetic murals around the island.

Knux actually thought Sonic was a god at first. Then he saw him choke on a Chili Dog.

He put beads around his spines after the events of Sonic Forces, since the war was over and he could relax for the first time in months.

Amy

Amy, like Knuckles, actually has a deep connection to her belief systems. We haven't figured out everything exactly, but she and Knuckles quickly bond over this aspect of their lives

I styled her quills differently because I kind of like giving her something that makes it obvious she is a hedgehog

Similarly, I gave her a back spine, and the hedgehog nose, since I had never realized she has the same kind of nose as Tails or Cream

Shadow

Shadow wears eye makeup. He puts it on every morning. For a while he had to have help with it (from both Rouge and Amy), but eventually figured out how to do it himself

He has yellow sclera due to the Black Arms blood. Similarly, he has a longer tail than most Mobian hedgehogs, and he cannot retract his fangs. His blood is green

He has some less favorable urges. Mostly related to the whole "Black Arms feed on living creatures" things, but they don't crop up often

He and Rouge have matching earrings

Rouge

I based her design off of Sonic Prime because I honestly prefer that design more. One because she looks like an actual spy, and two because it's based on her Sonic Heroes design. Similarly, she has Prim's hair tuft

Gave her the bat nose a lot of people do because I like the way it looks

I don't have a lot of thoughts about Rouge as of right now I am so sorry.

She and Shadow have matching earrings

Silver

Silver has a lot more scrapes and burns from his future, even though it's been fixed several times

He is displaced from time. He doesn't feel connected to his current future, especially since in our lore he is one of the few people to remember Sonic 06 (it's because in our lore, Timeline B Silver got his powers from Mephiles, in the sense that those time powers had to go SOMEWHERE after the timeline reset.)

I am going to be designing a weird messed up form for Silver (like Werehog or Doom Morph for Sonic and Shadow) based probably on Mephiles to some extent

Blaze

Like Silver, she has remnants of powers from the previous timeline. She already had fire powers in Timeline A, but she has much stronger ones now, as she still has Iblis inside of her, although the powers are no longer destructive, as they were never provoked

Her dimension is actually a result of Solaris ceasing to exist. That power still existed and had to go somewhere, so it ended up resulting in the Sol Dimension.

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 11 random thoughts

we're back to 6 chapters in this volume, huh!

i dont know if i'm ready for this, i still feel emotionally caught up in volume 10. but as always, i must press onward.

chapter 1:

CHAPEL JUMPSCARE?!?! WHY DOES THIS VOLUME OPEN WITH A SCENE OF CHAPEL. I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH YOU!!!! GO AWAY!!!!

and we're back to legato!! yay!!! i feel like i haven't seen him in forever!! he's looking a little worse for wear...

HELPPPP HSDKLJFDKLSFJS SHE'S SO MEAN TO HIMMMM

"there's no reason why i shouldn't just kill you" SHE'S SO MEAN!!!!!

it's really such a funny dynamic and i agree that legato is very bullyable but where does this hostility come from, actually? does she view legato as a rival for knives's attention? does she just think he has rancid vibes? it seems kinda one-sided too, legato hasn't expressed the same degree of annoyance regarding elendira... or we haven't really seen what he thinks of her at all, iirc? he just kind of ignores her goading... which honestly makes this dynamic funnier LMAO

and now we cut to--wait, LIVIO CAN DRIVE?! ...actually, now that i think about it, he probably drove chapel around, right? chapel probably couldn't drive in the condition he was in...

WHAT'S WITH THE SWANKY-ASS CAR, THOUGH???

i am happy to see brad again. i am always happy to see brad

^ me when i see brad

vash is clearly so so so tired. he decided to trust livio because he trusts wolfwood who trusted livio, but he's also mad about it. he's still very raw and very angry with livio i think. and also just fed up with this conversation in general lol. he's low on patience.

"at least let me punch him," says brad, after he already did it! livio would take the punch either way, he thinks he deserves to get punched... (ourgh...) but if you're going to ask for permission, do it beforehand!

i've been physically holding myself back from making more ff7 comparisons than i have already, but this is not making it easy. also y'all are literally in a narrative i know this shit is NOT going to work.

knives using his sisters as a shield... again... well, maybe "using" isn't the right word in this case. i actually expected him to destroy the cannon, but his expression... he knew it wouldn't fire.

i'm wondering about the plants' will now... how much self-awareness do they have? is it like, collective? are they more of a hivemind compared to the independents? ummm... hmmm... uuuummmm... i still feel like i don't know enough about plants!!

also does this mean they could have refused to fuse with knives if they didn't want to? not like knives is a stranger to using force, but in the scene where he fused with that first plant, he did ask... ummm... gaahhhh... my soupy brain...

i don't remember who in stampede said non-independent plants don't have free will... but it's an assumption everyone in this world seems to have been operating on...

"it's possible that the plants could rebel against humans. if that's the case, then there's no way humanity could survive." <- yeah no kidding! so you gotta be niceys to them!

chapter 2:

i'm apprehensive about the earth humans arriving, they're gonna make this situation even more complicated...

YOU'D BEST START BELIEVING IN SCIENCE FICTION, NAMELESS RANDO, YOU'RE IN ONE

UUAAAGH MERYL AND MILLY :( one of them (i can't tell who's talking) mentions her family... ARE their families okay?? hmmm... if they were, they'd probably be in this city, right? so i guess not... or maybe the situation is just too chaotic to find them even if they are in the city.

we never learned that much about meryl and milly's families, but i liked what we did get. that bit all those chapters ago, which touched on meryl's feelings about her own family (jeez that was FOREVER ago?!)... i thought it gave an interesting dimension to her.

THE REUNION.. CAN I GET A HUG?? CAN I PLEEEAAAASE GET A HUG??

oh holy shit he is giving MAAAAJOR sephiroth vibes here and i love it. he is beautiful and terrifying. and he's losing his shape... a physical representation of him losing himself...

and the ark itself is giving... something... i don't really know what to make of this grotesque display. it's... a lot.

chapter 3:

actually, what are the earth humans planning on doing exactly. are they gonna gather everyone up and ferry them back to earth? provide resources and technology so they can continue living on noman's land? i mean obviously we have to deal with knives first but what about after that?

OH?! BRAD TO THE RESCUE?! UNEXPECTED BRAD & LIVIO FRIENDSHIP?!

girl me too.

of course she immediately picked up on what really happened, not like brad's lie was any good to begin with...

OH, CUTE!!! what's in vash's coat! a lil figurine... what else does he have. the communicator pen, a swiss army knife, a key, the coin case... and some miscellaneous things...

"to tell you the truth, it wasn't a priority of mine" about the coins... it wasn't a priority of the author either dw

BRAD LIVIO FRIENDSHIP CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!! i love this, brad is trying so hard...!! he's so sweet... this is not a friendship i expected but i'm loving it so much!!!

:( vash crying over marlon's words to him is making me feel a type of way. it's something he needs to hear, but...!! "i don't know what else to do..." asking for help is easier said than done... he doesn't know how. i can relate...

and now we get... a big explosion and...!!!!

YES.... YES!!!!! LEGATO!!!!! MY SWEET (not an adjective that describes him in the slightest) LITTLE (also not an adjective that describes him) BAGWORM HAS FINALLY EMERGED FROM HIS COCOON!!!! i missed you so much honey i can't wait to see what fucked up shit you do next <3

oh also zazie's been cut in half. ehhh they'll be fine.

chapter 4:

oh fuck. this concept has been knocking around in my head for a while, and now it's been confirmed canon... it's never quiet for him anymore...

baby knives!!!!!! :(

someone: "you're nonbinary? but what's in your pants though?" zazie:

okay but jokes aside 1. GROSS!!!, 2. would this have even worked? legato and elendira recognize the danger so maybe it would have, 3. zazie says "we will use your powers for our purposes" which is... what? eliminating the humans, i suppose, and then... what?

huh... wait... is this how his powers worked all along or is this a new thing?? it's a new thing, right??

carve strings?? out of iron?? with what, his bare hands??? and he's moving by... puppeteering... himself?? that's... insane. i'm impressed.

i actually love seeing him up and moving around again, but i guess this means i can't call him a bagworm anymore... initially i called him a jolly rancher (because of his hair color in stampede and also because my friend called him "chewable"), then he changed to bagworm... which i guess was an upgrade since at least bagworms are alive?! i need another weird pet name for him. maybe i should just call him a moth now...

he's sitting like a frog :)

and he's imbuing the bullets with his power...! i see, that's how he defeated that big guy 2 chapters ago! ...and then livio startles him so much he leaves a hole. i'm sobbing.

handsome!!!! also "new hair, new outlook" hits different when it comes from vash, huh?

i am not gonna lie, the coin case has been such a nonentity in this story that i was temporarily VERY confused because i forgot it had come with the other halves already in the case.

also... elendira doesn't get one? why? is it because it's legato's game? so she refused to play... because she hates him...? LOL

and then. a random guy shows up. and gives them the last coin. why. listen nightow i know your initial plan for the coins went out the window and you need to wrap up this plot point now but like. is this REALLY the best you could do? LMAO

chapter 5:

oh boy... so much information here... the sudden reveal of another independent... and what to glean from all this about the relationship between plants and humans on earth... aaahghgh i wanted more information about this but now i have to wrap my head around it!! aaaaghh... my soupy brain...

"our generation was wired with neural blocking programs"... to prevent them from fusing? or is there more to it? hmmm. this is giving like. sci-fi advanced AI vibes. with a program that blocks them from going terminator. except the plants are made of flesh. or something. i'm... not sure how to feel about it, honestly.

i love seeing vash and livio being silly together. lord knows we need what silliness we can get.

vash going to press the switch and livio freaking out about it is SOOO funny BUT meryl DID tell vash that there were no explosives in the coin case. so he could've pressed it!!!

why is he flirting.....

i'm joking but also i'm not. but i think the only way these two would actually kiss is if they were playing a game of gay chicken.

...but come on, "let's kill each other, just the two of us"?? buddy...

also his uh... companion... helper...? is here...? is this the same one that was assisting him when he was a bagworm? ????? i still have no idea what they are or what to make of them.

?!?!?!?! RUDE?????

i mean she IS a bitch but i'm saying that as a COMPLIMENT. a compliment!!! as in "my wife is a bitch and i love her so much"!!! BUT VASH IS BEING RUDE!!!!

uagh, i had to post the full page, this is so lovely. i like seeing vash and livio bond; it looks like vash is warming up and happy that his choice to trust livio is paying off. and livio is trying really hard to live up to that. they both feel the impact wolfwood had on the two of them... it's very sweet.

this exchange is SO funny. just doing some diy with explosive items :)

uhhh, something something humanity's relationship with god!

right, this happened in the final fight in 98. "he cancelled me out..."

oh my god, FINALLY a fucking HUG around here!!!!!

they're sweet. :( also we need more hugs in this manga. EVERYONE needs a hug. what we really need is a big cuddle pile.

so much buildup... i'm scared. chronica turning off her "limiter program"... is this the same thing that prevents plants from fusing or is it something else? what is she gonna try doing?? ughhh, the apprehension is killing me...

chapter 6:

she's so cute... and she's soooo... COOOOL!!!!!

i love elendira, she is really cool and strong and funny, but... we don't really know anything deeper about her. what makes her tick? why is she following knives? are we gonna get a backstory? i wanna know everything about her!! i've wanted to know since her introduction!!!

and of course livio can live through getting impaled so many times. that's NOTHING to him. and his interaction with the kids is cute. and his reunion with jasmine is sweet. not going to say aaaanything about nightow's inconsistent timeline again...

actually no, i lied just now. it would be one thing if he had just... changed his mind midway though the manga and then stuck with it. but he's ACTIVELY going BACK AND FORTH on this. "six years" was LESS THAN 10 CHAPTERS AGO but if it still holds true then jasmine should NOT be this old. these chapters were published WITHIN THE SAME YEAR. RRAAAAAGHHGHGH

*cough* anyway. livio is such a big sweetie... i never disliked him, but my impression of him has changed. in stampede i didn't really know what to think of him. he didn't have a personality, he was just brainwashed. and his manga self was stoic and cool before. which... didn't seem like it was brainwashing, necessarily? i don't know?? maybe it was just an act he was putting on. he went goober mode as soon as the fight was over. perhaps no longer being beholden to EoM allowed him to embrace his inherent silliness. i liked his cool and stoic self but i LOVE his big silly teddy bear self. he's so... uwah. he makes me smile.

now that we're getting closer to the end i'm getting impatient... i feel the urge to just read the rest of it all in one go... but i mustn't... i must show restraint...!!!

[skelekin]

Sonic Prime Season 2/Season 1 part 2 thoughts and critiques

Nobody asked but I'm gonna share em anyway, minor spoilers ahead

Stuff I liked:

Shadow. Good god how refreshing it is to see a portrayal of Shadow that isn't one-note and sucks ass. his voice is closer to his original SA2 depiction, him beating the snot out of Sonic isn't entirely unprompted and random, and honestly his scenes may have carried this entire season. The interactions he has with Sonic are also fantastic and oooogghh gay

Sonic!! I'll be honest I really have a hard time understanding ppl's issues with his characterization here; he's a naive, impulsive, rebellious teenager that wants to see the good in the world. I like that I actually get to see him make mistakes, jump to conclusions, and be scared or sad. This is the kind of thing I feel like ppl have been ASKING for from him so I don't quite get the pushback

Nine is great as ever, definitely a highlight of this entire series and he could possibly end up having one of the best character arcs in the franchise

Chaos Sonic!!!!! Wowie what a fun dude, his segments made me smile the most

Animation is once again super bouncy and fluid with dynamic shots, you can tell action is this team's bread and butter (to a fault at times, but I'll get to that later)

Stuff I didn't like:

Good GOD is the pacing bad. Honestly I think it might be worse than season 1, there were so many times where I thought to myself "nothing is happening", and desperately wished they used the little time they had per episode to flesh characters out or have some more world building.

On that, as great as the action animation is, these scenes easily take up two thirds of each episode and it gets very, very boring after a while. It becomes difficult to appreciate them when they seem to just never end. There were so many times when I would become relieved when they finally took a pause, only for that relief to vanish a minute later when the egg council throws out more of the same exact cannon fodder for yet another battle scene

And speaking of the egg council, oooh boy did they get grating. I get this is a kids show, I'm not even expecting like ATLA levels of villains here, but they feel straight from Disney Junior. The concept of eggman cloning himself and having each one represent a different aspect of his psyche is fantastic, but it's completely squandered on one-dimensional tropes that tell literally the same exact jokes word for word, there is nothing intimidating about them

Like I said I desperately kept begging for SOME level of adequate screentime to flesh out the characters and other worlds, but as is, aside from Nine, the other versions of these guys just have One Bit and their worlds again feel ripped from Disney Junior. I was holding out hope that since season 1 had to introduce all of them that season 2 would get to show more, but no. Pirate world where they all go yar har and that's it. Jungle world where they do battle cries and that's it. Despite being the crux of the entire premise of this show they're painfully uninteresting

Where is Shadow!!!!!! What little we see of him is fantastic, too bad he's barely present! They hyped up his elevated appearance so much and seeing him hardly get to do anything was such a let down.

Chaos Sonic, as fun as he was, was only present for one episode. Why

It's very saddening to see this show fall into the recent trap plaguing media aimed at younger audiences where everything is dialed up to 11 nearly All the Time. The samey stock background action music hardly ever stops, once again these guys can't seem to go one minute without punching swarms of copy paste goons, we must keep jingling the keys because how else will we keep kids' attention. I think back to how 4Kids added unecessary music queues to every single action when adapting Sonic X and how much worse it was for it

Overall Prime has been really frustrating because there's so many glimmers of potential on display that get bogged down by the fact that they're just not willing to fully commit to and take any risk on. Idk how much of that is the team's fault, I don't doubt the possibility that higher up the chain some suits are holding their vision back. It just sucks bc I really, REALLY want to like this show more, but I can't really say it's more than just. Okay

I hope season 3 is able to reel it back in

[rosy-fox-art]

i def agree with what you said about how the fandom handles heart's blindness so thank you for calling it out before it got worse. i feel that it would make more sense if he put the blindfold on himself, like how other ppl in the tags on your post said.

another thing that ive noticed is how heart is sometimes infantilized and seen as someone who can "do no harm" which is... strange to say the least. i think ppl forget that he is a personification of a grown man's emotions and depression (sorry for wording it like that lol i didn't know how else to say it)

Hi! Thank you . I was honestly really worried to post about it, so I’m glad to see people so receptive to it so far in a positive light. I’ve been reading the tags very diligently ^^~

As for victimizing heart or ‘ saying he can do no wrong’ and infantilization… yeah I can see this as another issue that’s starting to sprout up, and some people in the tags of that previous post have mentioned it as well. And while I know that’s not everybody and I figure that is also another case where people don’t really intend to do it and just aren’t thinking about it, that doesn’t really erase the problem. This applies mostly to people depicting heart as childish, not being able to handle himself, being idiotic, victimizing and woobifying him etc. So, I really hope you don’t mind me using this as a chance to talk about that a bit, too.

Being over emotional does not, at all, translate to any of the traits I just listed out in the slightest. Sure, heart may be a little naive and impulsive as per his nature, but that is not the same. You are absolutely right to point out that heart an adult here, too. And at the end of the day the album seems to make it very clear that Heart and Mind are not all that unlike each other, but are unwilling to admit their similarities and highlight and judge their differences heavily. Heart is just as harmful and violent as mind, just in a different way. He has the propensity to be just as cunning or manipulative as Mind, too. Even his tactic of victimizing himself is a show of this, and Mind points this out several times in the album. They are two sides of the same coin. There is a large difference between Heart victimizing himself and actually being the victim, which he is not. Or at least, he is not completely blameless for the hole that he has dug for himself. When people show heart as being the victim or as doing no wrong, a lot of the nuance is completely lost.

Secondly, the internet and fan spaces have a bad habit of infantilizing people with mental illness, in general. Depression does not make someone soft and cute because they’re sad all the time. Depression does not make someone an uwu bean. Depression makes someone — as we can very clearly see by how Heart is within the cannon itself— a wreckage of rage and disdain that struggles to crawl out of a spiral of misery and apathy. It’s not pretty. When you boil it down to all of the things I’ve mentioned as being a problem here— that’s infantilization. This is also a big problem when it comes to disabled characters (Because people jump to the conclusion that the character cannot do much for themselves because of the disability, do not understand how disabled people actually advocate for themselves and function day to day from lack of experience or exposure to disabled people, want to depict them as incapable, etc). So, the fact that Heart is both of these things creates a ripe mess. This is kind of why I’m hoping to make some less angry, more informational post about some of the things blind people use to function just like other people here, sometime. Because the lack of these things in itself may lend into the infantilization problem. Being able to do things— having agency and independence over oneself— is a large part of breaking away from that. And I think it says a Lot that you rarely see this happen with Mind or Soul, as well.

So sorry if this came off at all angry, but I’m very passionate about it as someone whose experienced infantilization in my life from other people assuming things about me solely based on my disability. So, if I can say something to stop people from perpetuating it in fan content then I will. 👉🏻👈🏻. At any rate, thank you for the ask! I’m sure there’s a typo or two in here. So so sorry for that!

[poopersdoopers]

i just had a sanji head cannon from watching yuri on ice omg.

it goes back to him being a stern softdom HELP all my hopes and dreams realized.

definitely abo dynamics involved.

imagine being a twitch streamer. one of the top fem omega streamers.

you have been having a tough month, the last of your cycle about to hit for the end of the year:

- it makes your anxiety and depression worse

- mood swings become ten times more intense.

- and your cramping plus really irritable.

-so your alpha bf sanji suggests to stop streaming until you’re feeling better.

-you honestly could do it, after making a name for yourself and keeping your self afloat for years.

-the two of you are quite comfortable when it comes to finances as well.

-but instead, the stubborn defiant part of your brain says no!

-and another side of you wants to melt into the comfort of your alpha.

-and another side would miss your community so much? and what if your numbers drop? what if you become a failure and let down others —especially up and coming omegas.

-your anxiety spikes and your soreness is heightened by it, so you do what you do best and go against your bf’s wishes: streaming it is.

-asmr comfort stream: cute & funny clips to react to.

-comfort games like kirby, zelda, or fun indie games.

-you prop up the comfiest pillows in a makeshift nest and put a water heater on under your shirt so quell your cramps.

-normal fans account for your quietness and recount how your usual heats start around his time but they know not to comment on it, as it’s a sensitive topic and kind of tos to discuss.

-a tts alerts and alarms you goading about your alpha not keeping a watchful eye on you ..blah blah blah.

-your face goes red but instead of screaming or ranting as you usually would or just banning, you sit there and cry.

-something about it humiliates you and makes you feel weak, so you ask the mods to ban them and take the stream key.

-your alpha bf sanji walks in moments later, asking why you’re upset, kissing the top of your head, and rubbing your shoulders.

-he asks if your still feel achy? or sick. you don’t answer face in hands absolutely crushed. that’s when he notices the red camera light beeping.

-another tts goes off: pushing you further. telling them to ignore that sexless loser chatter, but it’s too late.

-sanji feels anger bubbling up in his chest, the need to protect but also make you submit and give into your heat at your pace.

-he lifts you into his arms, making sure to block your face from the audience, then sits in your makeshift nest pulling into you into his chest.

-“i thought we discussed you not streaming when you’re like this.i don’t want to show you off to everyone when you’re in *this*vulnerable.”he rubs circles into your back.

-your hiccups slow down, feeling your panic subside at his presence.

-you hide yourself completely into his neck and ask him if he’s going to punish you.

-he shakes his head no. “only if you want it because it’s what you need. it’s not really a punishment, it’s you letting yourself be settled.”

-you hug him closer, he now rubs circles into your hip, as if he can tell exactly where your back aches lie.

-“i think that’s the end of stream for a while, mods get rid of the vod. thanks everyone.”

-you nuzzle closer into his neck. he lifts you out of the chair-nest and into your bed, where you half began to make a nest before deciding to stream.

-you shiver beside yourself in fear.

-“you wanna tell me what happened”

-you shake your head no.

“you wanna tell me what you need?”,you would speak but your jaw was locked and you felt that familiar soreness wash over.

-“you wanna be settled?”

-you nodded. sanji grinned impossibly wide.

-“ill be whatever you need me to be right now. just tell me.”

-“alpha” he kissed the top of your feet, your ankles, down to your thighs. then slipped your shorts off in one fell swoop. you whined.

-“shhh…just let yourself be settled”, he grabbed your arm and locked it behind your back. marveling at how pliant you’d become but with a little fight left in you.

-then came the spanking and the tears. his hand firm and strong as if he float you off into that familiar headspace and take the reins of your mind. you tried to kick him off, not out of malice but out of fear of the desperate place you’ve always went to and some people looked down on your kind for it. sanji never did. he enjoyed settling you. he enjoyed your little routines. he loved seeing you all sweet and submissive. and he was always willing to give you more and more love under his careful embrace.

-he chides, telling you, you can run away almost you want and he’ll still love and fuck his sweet little omega 🏃🏾‍♀️(im coming sanji). he’ll hold you down and take all the fight until all you want is him.

-you eventually give into him, mind racing to one point: sanji sanji sanji. you can hear yourself mumbling his name under your breath.

-he’s in awe at how long it took you to settle, but full of desire -pupils drawn wide- at how you wither under his touch.

-after your bottom is properly red, he draws you back up for a big kiss, then it’s back into his lap, where you grind your wet pussy against his hardened cock.

-you’re still there not fully taken by the madness of heat, so he holds you close and watches you grind against him until you’ve had your filk. praising you endlessly.

-he cleans you up, taking extra care of your sore bottom, rubbing soothing lotion and massaging out kinks from your hips, back, and thighs. you feel the familiar need lessening a little, as he pulls your shorts back on and then presses your fully into him, his cheek rubbing against yours.

- “y/n ur so cute!!! i can’t believe it. even when your feisty and miserable, i can’t believe it”.

-typical sanji you rolled your eyes.

-he picks you up and you secure your legs around his waist, his freakish alpha strength keeping you secure with one arm.

-you watch as he grabs supplies between the kitchen, bathroom and main room. he then plops you down on the kitchen counter , you watch him cut up some fresh fruit for you to eat.

-you shake your head no at first. he looks around you sternly and you shiver, but still your stubbornness wins.

-“do i have to put you over my knee again, little girl?” his eyes sharpen.

-okay wow! you suddenly feel yourself floating away a bit, your bottom feel tighter, and you begin rubbing circles over your clit.

-sanji steels himself, kisses you once before throwing you over his shoulder and picking up the plate of fruit.

-suddenly you were in your alphas lap again, safe and sound as he fed you his food. this was sometimes the only way you’d eat during heats, in the comfort of his lap, and right off of his plate. you were truly as submissive as you were stubborn through and through.

-after you’d had your fill he decides to reward you by filling your hole with his cock. keeping it warm, before your heat really hits you. he kisses over you sensitive scent glands,forcing some of the sweetness out, before scenting you. enveloping you in the soothing scent of tobacco, vanilla, cinnamon, a little bit of thyme. it sometimes made your nose tickle and you giggled, wondering how your own sweet scent mixed with his warmness.

-he keeps you locked into place, before lifting your legs up and fucking your in a steady pace. you grab tightly onto his thighs and hold onto dear life. completely immobilized you couldn’t fuck back only beg for release and move further down into the fuzziness you’ve been fighting all day. he makes you cum 3 times, before knotting you and finally letting go of your legs. then placing a hand on your clit to draw more orgasms out of you as he pulses into your tight sweetness, milking him.

- “little one, you know i love you.”

- you were too far gone to even reply. but you tried anyway. “mmmm yeah”, you hiccuped at another pulse of cum coating your insides.

-his hand slowed down. “so why did you disobey me?”he growled.

-you tear up a little, “im sorry, alpha i thought i could handle it”.

-he sighed, “i understand why you do it and what you’re trying to prove to those shit heads out there. but why push yourself when you clearly do not feel well. i’m a little disappointed sweetheart.”

-“i have to keep working!”

-“you do not have to. not when you’re like this.”

-you wanted to pout, fight back, but ultimately he was right and you deflated. disappointed?

-you wanted to get up out of his lap and go stream just to prove a point to him and alphas everywhere that you were more than your secondary gender.

-but the knot between the two of you kept you there and normally you would love that, in fact it was your favorite thing to do at the end of the day.

-in the afterglow, cuddle closer to your lover, be praised endlessly and praise him back. you loved hearing how good you are for him. stare into your alpha’s pretty big eyes and melt. he would ask you about your day. you would ask him about the cafe he was planning on opening up soon, with his adopted father. you would listen to him talk for hours about his dreams, even when he’d gone soft and you were empty. just listening to him made you happy enough to just doze off. and you’d always wake up to kisses all over your face the next day.

-instead you were here fighting and it wasn’t fair because you weren’t in the right headspace and it felt like sanji was using your sensitive biology against you to win a war you didn’t know was waged.

-then it hit you…and you started crying from distress for real…all the anxiety and tension releasing from your brain at once. and sanji could feel it, sensing that he fucked up.

“we don’t have to talk about this right now. im sorry, my dear.”

“can you not criticize me when im like this? u already feel bad enough as it is , i can’t even control my body. do you know how much im trusting you right now to even do this?”

“you’re right, dear. i’m sorry. i did not intend tead to— “

“you intended to tell me what to do, framed it as a “suggestion” then shame me for wanting to work through my one weakness”.

he looks at you, understanding a little bit better what you are struggling with,

“you’re half right. my hind brain wanted to order you to submit. keep you locked on my knot the moment i saw you quiver this morning. but i knew it was your decision. but you ended up almost hurting yourself, to prove ?”

“that omegas aren’t weak during their heats.”

“baby you are vulnerable, please. you’re killing me.”

“don’t call me weak.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it. you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. but”

“but”

“but you need me just as much as i need you during my rut. it’s fine. it’s normal.”

“that’s so easy for you to say.”

“easy to say and even easier to practice doing instead of seeing my omega, my darling little princess work while in pain. or hear assholes speculate over our relationship and write it in a chat.”

you were stunned. he had known. and—

“i was watching to support your decision and i walked in to help you, not just control you like you were a helpless little child.”

you wanted to dig a hole and crawl away into it. be. buried by centuries of guilt.

“don’t run from me. don’t run from who you are, who we are *ever again*. i know it’s hard, harder than i could ever imagine understanding. but i can’t just sit there and watch you harm yourself.”

he wrapped an hand around your neck, lightly squeezing.

“what is if you went into full blown heat and those bastards got a hold of you? what if you went into subdrop? and beyond that the mental anguish you clearly feel being exploited by viewers?”

you gulpped.

“i couldn’t bare it. not as your alpha or lover or boyfriend but just as someone who cares deeply for you.”

he squeezed around your neck harder, before letting go.

“you’re mine. and im going to fuck that lesson into you until it’s understood. got it?”

“i’m yours alpha”.

“good girl”.

[thefanbasewhore]

Accidentally Bare - Preference #2

Summary: A preference/snippet of pedro characters accidently seeing the reader in their underwear. Honestly, ignore the title I suck at them lmao. I also have no idea why I kept mentioning showers. 

Warnings/Content: A little suggestive, dirty thoughts. 18+ please. 

Paring: Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, and Frankie Morales/Female reader

I am also taking requests for head cannons and more preferences at this moment if anyone has any ideas!

Din Djarin

Nothing could stop the deep chill that created goosebumps that made your body shiver despite the thick wool of Din’s cape that was pulled tight around your chest. The walk back to the crest was freezing, clothes heavy and weighing you down with every squish your boots made underneath you, the temperature of the stupid desert planet plummeting at night into single degree temps, falling into the lake was definitely not on your to do list.

Water still dripping from your sleeves, fingers shaking where the fabric bundles in the middle of your chest to support the heaviness of the cape as the crushing on dense sand from heavy boots behind you let you know the Mandalorian is still there. He’s silent as ever, mad at himself for letting you even step on the ice but as soon as he saw you fall into the deep pit of water he dived right in after, forgetting the bounty, making the choice to let him escape.

The first step on the Crest is a relief, familiarity and warmness welcome you but it’s not enough to calm the numbing that took over all your senses, voiding any sensation in your trembling fingers. The breeze that falls over the crest as the ramp closes with a gush of wind but you don’t seem to care as the cape wrapped around you falls to the floor. The Mandalorian walks past you silently, which you guess retiring for the night because at the last second before the he climbs the ladder of the cockpit by the way his fingers start to peel of the beskar not caring as it trails and clanks against the floor of the ship, fingers rim the edge of his helmet lifting it just enough to see the ends of his hair curl and stick against the nape of his neck as it drips to his tunic before the cockpit swallows him. 

If it wasn’t for how freezing you were there is no doubt you would be taken back by his openness, even wet you weren’t expecting it to so wavy, a little messy but it touches the collar of the tunic and you honestly couldn’t move as the realization dawned on you. Eyes running over the length of the ladder that rattles due to deep hum of the engine, the imagine burning behind into them. 

The cool shiver reminds you of the current predicament, fingers burning and toes numb at the verge of turning purple. A frustrated huff falls from your lips as you pull at the laces of your boots, fingers too stiff to move but eventually get them off, not caring where they fall. Only functional thought is to feel the warm water of the fresher to regain feeling in your appendages.

Hands grasp the hem of your shirt, lifting it despite the cool air that nipped the skin of your stomach. With only one goal in mind and a stubborn button that just won’t latch from your pants, you don’t notice as the ladder shakes with the weight of the Mandalorian as he gains entrance back into the belly of the ship. He’s out of his armor, but the helmet had seem to find it’s way back onto his head but his upper body in a white, thin shirt, his pants hand dangerously low on his hips, they offer his body more warmth with no doubt lined with some kind of fleece, gray in color and a pair of socks. The wet pants stick to you, with your back turned toward Din who freezes the moment he notices you shimmy them down your legs, revealing the black pair of underwear the hugs your ass in the most delicious way.

He’s red, blushing, no doubt you can see the way his chest spots pink through the white shirt, hands forming fist next to his side as you turn to make a b-line for the fresher but the mass of the man catches your eyes, pausing.

Eyes never leave you, he just freezes up, unable to move as the situation seems to do the same to you. He tries, really tries not to look but can’t help it as he notices how thin the bra is, a pretty pastel pink, cute but the way your nipples harden against it is anything but, he’s speechless, mouth drying as eyes take in the smoothness of curves, drops down to the thinness of underwear, they leave little to the imagination, sticking against skin letting him see every inch and suddenly he wants nothing more than to rub his own -

His eyes lift back up to your own, the embarrassment that paints your cheeks makes him realize just how wrong it is. “I-I’m sorry.” He stutters, eyes casting down to the cotton that covers his toes, ashamed with red cheeks, horrified that it has even happened. “Just came down to use the shower -.”

Desire sirs deep inside his stomach, makes him awkwardly shift his hips as he turns to leave but the smooth hands that catch his fingers makes him pause, turning to face you once again.  “We can both use it.”

Javier Peña

Nothing can still your pounding heart, it’s racing, taking up all the space in your chest that it barely allows room for your lungs to expand, to take one good breath to sustain your frantic body needs, instead it’s broken up into patchy, erratic breaths that make you dizzy, vision blurring as a result. 

It’s a blur but there’s no mistaking the metallic taste of blood, it’s not yours but it seems like it should be by the way it covers every part of you. It dots your face, coats your hands with such thickness, soaks through the shirt to stain your chest pink. There’s so much of it, it takes over and fills all your senses. All you see is red, all you feel is hands rub your face to talk yourself out of this moment of weakness but the way it smears even worse across your skin, fills the pores of your skin, makes bile raise but swallow it down. 

It’s been an hour but fear still makes you shake, not bothering to even talk to anyone the moment you pull the trigger just driving home without a single word, not even to your partner Javi. The door of your apartment is even left open in your own wake, trying to yank the soaked clothes, not caring as your bloody shirt falls from shoulders staining the white carpet of your apartment. 

Finger fumble with pants as well, too shaky but none the less slowly shimmer them down flushed thighs. You suddenly can’t move, no matter how bad the shower calls you from the other room, shaky fingers press to the floor under you for support as you lower yourself to the ground until the rough carpet scratches the back of thighs but your thankful to feel something other then pure terror, relish in the scratch the spreads to the back of your knees as you bring them to your chest, lean against the couch for support with a shaky chest.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t realize how much time passes as the low baritone breaks through the sound waves, Javi averts his eyes, realizing the vulnerability on the situation. “The door was open, I just let myself in.”

“I-It’s okay.” Chest moves with the stutter, unable to realize your in nothing but a thin bra, that leaves little to the imagination and a matching black thong, that shows just how much the carpet irritates the skin of inner thighs, leaves a big rash just on the underside of your cheeks.

It’s not the way he intended seeing you like this the first time, beautiful doe eyes filled with tears that slip past beautiful, full eyelashes. It makes his heart stop, the low light of the lamp in the corner contour the dark shadows of your face, show the sharpness of cheek bones, outlines the shape of your jaw. He hates the way he can’t look away from your heaving chest, flushed breast barely fill the cups of the lacy bra, down the smoothness of skin, still stained a dark red from all the blood, down to the edges of inner thighs. 

You watch as his gaze falls between your legs but when they meet up at your face again, his lips fall, a deep sigh as a thick layer of tension fills the room. There’s nothing you want more then to forget this feeling, distract yourself with Javi.

Suddenly, he’s all that’s on your mind. The way his tongue runs over those perfect lips, wanting to feel the sensation of his moustache against your upper lip, the burns between your thighs. It’s what you think you’re getting as he lowers to his knees, finally give into the temptation of each other but the blanket that falls to your shoulders surprises you. His fist wraps around each end to ball it against your chest as his other hand reaches for a small piece of hair that frames your face, pushing it behind your ear as his lips ghost over it. “Let’s get you in the bath, cariño, yeah?”

Unsure eyes meet his, not trusting your own legs but his gentle fingers that fill the gaps between your own reinsuring. It’s a soft whine of surprise that makes you look up at him, a thankful sad smile that makes Javier return one that shows every scar of his soul, the feeling all too known to him. “I got you, honey.”

Agent Whiskey

It’s a mix up, an annoying one but none the less it’s not like you can kick Whiskey out of the hotel room and besides you’re both functioning adults, staying together in the room should be no problem but it’s a little difficult to feel comfortable with a stranger especially with one as pushy and touchy as the cowboy. 

He’s nice, very polite but smug. There’s always a tight smirk across his face, sexy eyes that test your every move as you bring the rim of the glass to your lips with a soft sigh. The bar of the hotel is loud, a thick cloud of smoke from the passerby's tickles your nose. You try to ignore it, but turn abruptly even catching Whiskey off guard as he adverts his gaze but he’s not as sneaky as he thinks. 

It’s hard to remember exactly why you turned when he offered a sweet smile, elbow against the bar while his hand wrapped around his own glass, other hand spraying over the thickness of his thighs, sitting to face you with that dumb smirk. You really can’t help it as your eyes fall between his legs, “What’s up, sugar?”

It’s either he chooses not question why or is just so used to women checking him out but your throat dries at his peering gaze, the way he wraps his lips around the glass after his tongue pokes out to wet them. It makes your face hot, averting his intimating eyes. “Nothing, thought I saw something is all.”

“Mmmm.” It’s a small hum, hesitant like he wants to ask more but settles with the answer. It’s quiet, not awkward but the tension is heavy, clouding the space between you both. Scooting to the end of the seat, eyes nervously looking at him as you shift onto your feet, standing and muttering. “I’m going to head back to the room.”

“Alright sweetheart. I’m gonna have a few more drinks, head up without me. If you need me.” Two fingers press against the shell of his ear, his way of saying I’ll hear ya. You try not to let it affect you but the heat that crawls up your skin makes you huff, closing the door of the hotel room tightly. 

A shower, to sooth the burning desire for your new partner, it was embarrassing, feeling like a teenage girl for a man that you barely know, all hot and bothered by him simply spreading his legs but it felt like an open invitation just for you. Hands reach for your shirt, pulling it up with little hesitation except for when it catches the onto the ear piece, stepping forward with a yelp as your foot comes in contact with the large bed frame. Pulling the ear piece off with not much thought, throwing it and the shirt onto the bed, fingers pop the metal from the buttonhole also discarding your pants. 

It all happens so fast, the door crashes open, hitting the wall. Pure instinct takes  over, despite only being in a very, very revealing bralette and a matching lacy thong fumbling for the gun on the night stand next to you, pointing it towards the mass of a man but let out a sigh of relief. “What is wrong with you? barging in like that, I could have shot you.”

It goes to deaf ears, smooth lines of your collarbones catching him off guard, dropping to the soft curves of your breast. He steps closer, shutting you up immediately as his fingers spread out across the hem of your underwear, warmness erupting to the lazy trail of his fingers. 

The cocky smirk that overpowers your own confused one as a tick falls from his lips, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes peering under that stupid cowboy hat, “Now If you wanted me to see you naked you didn’t have to pretend you’re in trouble, darlin’.” 

Frankie Morales

There was never a day Frankie thought he’d be in the deep end of the forest again. The memories are still fresh, the sun doesn’t quite sting his skin like the one in Brazil but it’s a close second, the aching memories still squeeze his heart but it’s a silent burn, one he’ll take to his grave and a life he thought he left behind forever.

Frankie is a man haunted by his past, the memories never let him forget that life he used to lead. He is anything but soft, he’s kind, caring, smart, passionate but a sucker for a pretty face. It’s shown in the way he shameless answers too quickly for his liking at your proposition. To rescue your father, a man that owed a bunch of narcos too much money but you had nothing to offer except to help a single father who seemed to be struggling. 

Maybe it was the way your sad eyes looked at him with an exaggerated expression, tiredness sag your face, large purple bags that crinkle with every sigh. There was no hope, and even if your father was alive, he kissed that life away a long time also, but then again here he is.

Deep in the jungle of Argentina, sun beating down and burning his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, between the valley of his chest as he swings the bottle of water back, the coolness soothing his raw throat. Your stance matches his own, shoulders dropped, heavy breaths but slower, the heaviness of the gun wrapped around your shoulders.

You were slowing him down, it was no lie. He told you multiple times he would do it but specifically didn’t want you to come with him, he would handle it all but sending a man alone to do something like this, despite how experienced he may be it didn’t seem right.

“Go.” You huff, fingers pushing against his shoulder. It had been the third time he stopped for you in ten minutes, clearly frustrated with a crinkle of his forehead, annoyed eyes looking for any sign of danger, even with the thick trunks of trees that camouflage into the color of face paint that decorates both yours and Frankie’s faces. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He looks unsure but nods lowly, turning as his feet to walk up the ledge of the tree as you take a deep breath, fingers trembling as you try to catch your breath, ass hitting the dirt harder then you intend to but it’s a relief to aching feet. It’s a blur of blackness, hand reaching up to pull yourself up but instead pull at something squishy?

Before you could react, big, black bugs by the hundreds run up your legs, crawl under your vest and shirt. The yell that echoes the forest is what catches Frankie’s attention, turning from his short distance ahead to find you. Face hot, fearing the worst as his heart pounds against his chest. Arms flaring frantic through the thick ropes and vines as he slips skillfully past above ground roots of trees.

You are no where in sight but the peaks of dark green clothes along the brush catch his eye, picking the fabric up, clutching your shirt between fingers. With one more look around he notices another piece of clothing, but the sound of splashing catches his attention. It’s not too far, just over a large tree that separates his view from you. It’s not what he expects, practically naked except for the nude bra and matching underwear that makes his eyes widen. If it wasn’t for the panic on your face he would have taken a second to appreciate the beauty in front of him, let desire burn deep on his skin but the way you frantically try to rub the bugs off makes him take action, hands catch your own, comforting eyes meeting your own. “Relax, relax, I’ll get them off.”

“It’s burns.” It’s a soft whine, as his fingers fall to your own, pressing them against his warm skin as he flattens his other hand down the skin of your arm, down your stomach with a delicious sting from the heat of his. 

“I got you, honey.” The words are low, sugary as the realty of the situation makes your own cheeks flush. The bugs are gone, scattering at feet but his gaze never leaves your own. Only inches away from your face, lips so, so close but what really makes you dizzy is the way his hand cups your waist, squeezing so gently as his hot breath fans your face, fingertips trail to the wire of your bra, something in him snaps, giving into the desire as his lips press against yours with urgency.

tags: @victias​ @altarsw​ @coonflix​ @mudhornchronicles​ @buckysalefty​ @capsheadquarters @godohammers​ @ilikemymendarkandfictional​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivemehives @maileecabudol @itsfangirlmendes​ @mermaidbrina​ @nikkixostan​ @moonlightnumbsthepainifeel @dinsbeskar​ @est19xxshit​ @owloveyounever​ @engie115 @impala1967666​ @akatasukilove​ @nerdalert-andi​ @mailee420​ @you-and-i-deserve-the-world​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @winter_rxn @Sporadicshoebailifffish

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 9)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Nine: The Night at Sea

The second you attempt to reach behind to untie your corset, your arm spasms. The collision with the hull of the ship has left you shaken and battered and in no position to twist your body to undo the double knotted ties Seil, your handmaiden, would have tied. And your heart aches when you think of her.

You know that you shouldn’t sleep in the dirty clothes and the corset, but with the secure double knots there is no way to undo the ties yourself. And so you pull yourself into the hammock, landing face first, when your back muscles give out, into the netting tied to the wall. With a groan, you don’t even bother trying to move, and you pass out on the ship - having been through the ringer for what feels like a million times in one day.

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“Where is she?” Hunter grumbles when Tech returns to the group, looking up at the stars Hunter was using to calculate their ETA.

“Probably asleep in Echo’s hammock I'd guess.” Tech says plainly, and he watches as his sergeant’s face hardens.

“You need to learn how to follow orders.” He snaps, before going back to the map.

“Sarge,” Tech starts, “you’re displaying worrying symptoms.” He decides on. And under the hat he sees his eye twitch.

The barrage never ended, and the cannons never ceased. How much ammunition either side had left was impossible to guess. This creeping barrage was working. But only just. All they had to do was keep the separatists busy, the regs should be able to manage that at least. And rescue missions were the best kind of mission out there these days…

In the medical bay, Hunter shakes, the wookie child is long gone, and his vod have returned to keep their sergeant company while he heals. They’re angry, and resent him for the return-to-ship order from before. But the carnage that was left of Kashyyyk proved how right he was in securing the safety of Clone Force 99.

“Hunter, your hand.” Tech says looking at the cuts and mangled tissue.

“Kriffing door wouldn’t open.” He explains through drugged eyes. Thinking that the war is over. It has to be over. If not now, it has to be over soon. They can’t continue like this, there can’t be more missions like this. The war has got to be over soon.

Outside, the artillery starts firing again.

Hunter looks at Tech, watching the goggles reflect moonlight, and realises something that, in the chaos of the day, went unnoticed.

“Did Wrecker even lock the cell door?” He interrogates the shorter man in front of him.

“I don’t know.” Tech answers honestly with a shrug. “But even if he didn’t. You know he made the right call.” Hunter grunts in response.

“She’s a Aaray. A danger to us all” He says.

“We’ve been in worse predicaments.” Tech states. Watching as Hunter walks away from yet another conversation of theirs, and he wonders to himself, how long it will take for his captain to start screaming because of nightmares on this clear, calm, night at sea.

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Everything on your left side hurts. The hit from the ship has battered your skin, muscles, and bones. Sleep evades you because the only thing you can focus on is the pain. And when even laying down becomes too much, Gonk moves herself out of where she was curled on your back as you clumsy step out of the hammock, and begin to tread outside.

The three boys are asleep, and part of you chides yourself for being vulnerable in front of them. They could have thrown you in the birg - or worse. But a bigger part of yourself says that you can trust them. Probably more so than you’ve trusted anyone in your life. It’s a naive thought - and perhaps it’s built off of never having someone you can trust before, but a part deep inside of you jumps onto and clings to the idea of putting your faith in these men.

Maybe Crosshair was rough around the edges, and from what you can see, his glare stays with him while he sleeps. It makes you smile a little. And Wreckers exposed scars, they scare you, but the eye patch was so typical of the pirate stories you heard as a child, it’s like living in a fairy tale.

Someone clears their voice behind you.

It’s the Captain, or rather Hunter. Now only in his pants, and tunic, that's been bunched around his forearms in his sleep.

“Plotting something else perhaps?” He asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

“N-no,” you say, annoyed at how easily he makes you nervous. “I couldn’t sleep, I wanted fresh air, and they…” You pause, looking back at the crew. “They’re more manageable when they’re asleep.” The captain lets out a puff of air that's not in annoyance, and you take that as a small victory. And he watches when you crane your neck to look at the stars. He knows it’s because you feel awkward, but in another life, he would’ve found your curious eyes endearing.

“Am I missing something?” Crosshair asks, having woken on his own, and deciding to investigate the scuffle outside.

“Didn’t want the Aaray skulking around the ship.” Hunter answers, “nightmares?” he asks his brother, watching him shake his head no, and with that, one tension is lifted from the sergeants shoulders.

“Are you in pain?” Your voice comes out softly, and they both stare at you unabashedly. “I only mean, i just,” You go to explain. “From earlier the side of the…”

“Hull.” Hunter corrects on instinct, before chiding himself for doing so.

“The Hull, when you caught me…” You motion randomly with your hands as if that helps communicate to Crosshair what you mean, and he stares at you looking tired and vaguely annoyed.

“You’re in pain.” He tells you. And you’re a tad taken back because it hadn't shown on his face that he knew what you meant, let alone made the connection as to why you were awake and hence asked if he too, was hurting.

“I’m okay, I just wanted to…” you try to brush it off

“There’s no point in lying.” Crosshair interrupts, watching at Hunter’s features soften when he also takes in your appearance, leaning against the door, tense and radiating anxiety. He wonders if you’ve ever felt pain like this in your life. Living on a velvet cushion of upper class coruscant would call for little more than flimsiplast cuts. He watches you shrug off Crosshair's comment, intent on being the smallest problem you can possibly be. The man that Hunter was before would be reaching out for you, your messy hair, soft features, and innocence that he knows lesser men are itching to take advantage of.

“You should take that off.” Crosshair nods towards your dress and you gape at him.

“Crosshair!” Hunter barks on instinct, and not standing for the disrespect. He sees your face flush and your arms go around your waist protectively.

“Have I missed something?” A forth voice joins them outside of the bunks and Hunter inwardly groans. Now Tech is awake, what he hoped would’ve been a private nightly stroll has turned into some kind of situation report.

“Shockingly the Aaray is being uptight.” Crosshair moves to the opposite side of the doorway you’re leaning on.

“I don’t think it is fundamentally uptight to want to preserve my own modesty.” You say incredulously, and Hunter notes that you resort to your training as a lady when you become nervous. Just like his men resort to being soldiers when faced with problems.

“Crosshair!” Tech exclaims, glaring at his brother - he really needed lessons in things that are appropriate to say, and things that are not.

“I’m only asking you to take the corset off.” Crosshair says smirking, enjoying how flustered everyone is. And Hunter sees something flash in your eyes.

“Do you think you’re funny?” You snap, and the sniper stops smiling. “Is this a game to you? Clearly you have no concept of the ramifications on a woman should she ever do something like that. Or you have no concept of how dresses and corsets work - which wouldn't surprise me given your temperament.”

Hunter catches a small grin on his face, you’re alive tonight and he hates to admit that he likes it. The inference that Crosshair is too unintelligent to understand womens garments or that no women has let him close enough to understand them is both funny and potentially accurate.

“He does have a point.” Tech chimes in.

“Tech!” Hunter shouts, expecting better from him.

“I mean it might be adding pressure to areas already in pain.” He says quickly, his face as red as a zarrabak. And no one is surprised that he’s caught himself up in the conversation.

Behind all of you - Wrecker snores.

“I-I… can’t.” Your voice is small, and you’re looking at the floor, embarrassment pings in everyone's hearts when they realise that this is an important issue to you, and they’re talking about it like you’re not even present.

“We can give you private space if that's what you require.” Tech speaks up. And when you pause you can hear the waves crash in the night.

“Thank you.” You stammer out. This whole ordeal has become very embarrassing and as much as you want to deny the pain and tell the clones it’s nothing, you know both Crosshair and Tech will see right through whatever lie you construct.

“It’s, it’s just that…” You pause again. Maker if you tell them you can’t do it yourself you’re going to look as pathetic as you feel. “I would need assistance with the ties…” You mumble the last part to your bare feet that poke out under your dress. When you have the courage to look up again, all eyes are looking at Tech. The latter of the three simultaneously having decided he was most equipped for the job.

“Have at it, loverboy.” Crosshair jeers at his brother, and now both you and Tech are blushing madly.

“I’m surprised you're not jumping to the occasion.” Tech cracks back at him. And if you weren’t so self conscious in this moment you’d roll your eyes at how much they argue. Hunter remains deathly quiet.

“Unless she wants it cut off as i’m usually-” “Alright! Alright!” Tech cuts him off, and moves towards you while Crosshair snickers.

“Turn ‘round.” Hunter barks, and while you might think he’s telling you, he’s actually giving an order to Crosshair, as the trooper made no move to divert his eyes. And as Tech undoes just enough buttons to start loosening the corset he sees how taught the ties have become and yanks it towards him for leverage.

“Tech!” You squeal and gasp, trying to get away from him and he accidentally constricts you more. Sending pain shooting all over you as your injured body is put under more stress.

Hunter turns around at the sound of pain and sees both of you shaking, he knows you must be beyond embarrassed and Tech even more so. Your moss coloured dress is unbuttoned and the back pushed aside to reveal the cream corset. Hunter sighs, and pushes his brother aside.

You hear an ‘ow’ from Tech as well as what you suspect is Crosshair's hand connecting with the back of his shorter brother's head. As they walk away you shiver as you realize the captain is standing behind you.

“You’re fine.” He says plainly. Nimble fingers working at the knots quickly, you shake in the absurdity of it all, and the feeling of Hunter exhaling into your hair and neck as he works.

“This is so unbecoming.” You mumble to yourself in shame, jerking when you feel the tips of his hair brush against your skin.

“I recall you saying ‘fuck’ earlier.” Hunter scoffs at you, “I think you’re past unbecoming.” silently praising himself when one knot becomes free, whoever tied them must have known what they were doing because it feels more complicated than half the sail ties on the Muraduer. Then again, your activities of the day probably didn't help the situation.

“Captain, you’re basically undressing me.” You tell him, looking over your shoulder just in time to watch him still at your words. The part of his face you can see in this position is covered by the tattoo, but what the moon and stars manage to light up is stunning nevertheless.

“If you’re worried about modesty, I can’t see any more of your skin than I could before.” He reassures you, and you’re beginning to wonder what kind of man he really is. Hunter is so tender at this moment, so gentle. And yet you know what lies underneath.

Technically what he just told you is a lie, he can see the expanse of your back, and parts of your shoulders. But the way your brows creased in concern as you look back at him makes lying worth it as you relax a little bit. Trying to be annoyed at you for causing him grief, he goes back to the knots.

You gasp and clutch your chest as you feel him loosening the string as the last knot comes free. And you see the shock in Hunter's face when you whip around so he barely catches a glimpse of the slip that sits underneath the corset.

Maker, he thinks to himself, you’re so disheveled and scared by a simple act. He grits his teeth at the thought of how Nython would treat you, someone like you needed soft and gentle touches, words of affirmation. Hunter’s grinding his teeth together as he realizes the pride Nython would have in hurting someone as defenceless as yourself.

But then he thinks about how you held your own against his own crew today. And the captain of the Havoc Marauder thinks you’re not as defenceless as you look.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor

[ghostietea]

Ok, I'm going to say it: Akito being paired off in the end and shoved into a "happy" het relationship is an egregiously bad writing choice. 

Akito's arc at the end of Fruits Basket is one of self discovery and breaking cycles of abuse, and it is one that she has recently started where we leave off. She is making an admirable effort, but also is very newly trying to learn how to fix things and have functional relationships after a lifetime of toxicity and indoctrination. No matter how hard she's trying Akito is still in a growing phase, and has a very long way to go. Additionally, after losing her entire worldview and support system, she would be in a pretty vulnerable state, and is trapped in a loop of immense self loathing. At this point in her journey, Akito needs to focus on building platonic relationships, especially considering that she has almost no experience in companionship outside of the context of the curse. Also consider that she has issues with dependance, especially with the zodiac, and a lot of her growth is about independence, doing things by herself, and not clinging on to old relationships. To put it simply, Akito is not in a position where she should be entering a romantic relationship and, in fact, it would make more sense for her arc to leave her single. And above all, the elephant in the room still stands: less then a month ago this character literally stabbed her ex in the back. Even ignoring other factors, this is in no way a person that should be dating anytime soon and it is truly baffling that she would be part of an endgame relationship. 

And it just gets worse when you consider the context of the relationship she's in. Akito and Shigure are undeniably incredibly toxic, to the point of being mutually abusive. Takaya obviously did this on purpose, which just makes what comes later even more confusing. Akito should not be in a relationship at all, and she should certainly not be in a relationship with a man who has been manipulating her for years on end as she has been manipulating him too and, may I remind you, slept with her abusive mom specifically to spite her. These characters are consistently shown to have a really twisted relationship, only to be abruptly flipped to "whoops, happy couple now" in the last volume. I'm not saying that relationships can't start out toxic and develop into something good, but you have to put a lot of time and growth into their story to sell it. Tossing two charachters from point a to b for the sake of a "happy" ending is just bad writing. Akito may have changed, but only recently; on such a rotten base it would be too easy to slip back into old habits and there was no stage shown of significant development in their relationship. Again, not showing the development is a fatal mistake in writing a relationship like this. Even if we give Akito the benefit of the doubt since she had a "redemption arc" (as I said above, this doesn't work) that's not even touching on the fact that Shigure did not really change in regards to her, no, he simply had no reason left to fight at the current moment because he got exactly what he wanted, which was having her all to himself (Concerning when combined with the fact that we know from Furubana that Akito will let people abuse her because, again, she absolutely hates herself. I'm not saying things would go like that but character that thinks they deserve mistreatment+character that mistreated them in the past is not a good look.). Shigure didn't magically have an epiphany about his treatment of Akito, he won. You can't even say this relationship is okay now since they both changed enough, because they didn't. This is not just Akito getting into a relationship in the wrong headspace, this is Akito getting into a relationship with a long history of mutual abuse, jealousy, and toxicity with a former zodiac and it being treated as something that's completely fine.

So you have this character. After spending the whole series being a toxic and horrendous person, she has the realization that has been coming since the beginning, and decides to change. A lot of her arc is about finding out who she is after tying her whole identity to a construct, and realizing that she has to be herself and live as a human instead of a God, has to learn how to find friends that want her around as a person from outside her weird cult. She is just starting to make a few friends, starts trying to figure out herself and how to be  independent and kind, and cuts off a centuries long cycle of abuse. This character is still working for her reformation, still figuring things out, still building new relationships from the ground up. Additionally, this character has severe trauma that she is in no way is recovered from on top of all of that and honestly needs to see a professional. It. Makes. No. Sense. To. Give. Her. An. Endgame. Ship. Was it not for the ship, Akito's ending, while still rushed, would be a million times stronger, and that's why it frustrates me so much. And I'm not saying that Akito shouldn't be shipped, or that I think she should never have romantic love, and especially not that she doesn't deserve to be loved at all as I've said already that that her having platonic relationships is important. I'm saying that it should have been left out of the cannon ending with the story as is. So, if the story would be better with this easy fix, why.

Well, I think this, as many other problems with the story, boils down to Natsuki Takaya's immense dedication to extreme heteronormativity. You can see this everywhere, by the end near everyone in paired off into neat little m/f sets. This goes for immensely queer coded characters like Yuki and characters such as Rin who should probably get to heal and build more friendships before rekindling her relationship. Oftentimes couples being paired up actively makes this story's arcs weaker, which sucks because characters are Furuba's main draw. So many issues could have been fixed if Takaya didn't need her happy hets. Akito's arc is, like many other characters, especially the women, held down because the author decided to hit her in the head with the het stick. (Which is extra bad considering her and her arc are heavily queercoded and Takaya tries to make her seem as het and gender conforming as she can post redemption which is, uhhh. But this is not the post about queercoding villains and arcs that should have been gay.) 

In the end, you can say or feel what you want, but the fact still stands: Akito Sohma being in an endgame relationship is bad writing at best and seriously concerning at worst.

[bluelancelion]

Here's some characters info about the Pirate/Assassin/Princess AU klance-Voltron fanfic that I'm writing!

(Lance is a pirate and Captain of a ship, Keith is an assassin with a mission and Allura is a runaway princess. They all end up in Lance's ship for a long, disastrous journey. What could possibly go wrong?)

CHARACTERS:

Lance

- Pirate

- Captain (we believe in Lance's leadership)

- homesick boy

- free spirit

- loverboy with a broken heart

- found family in the sea

- protective

- funny

- obnoxious

- touchy

- carefree

- kind

- stubborn

- very competitive

- looks ultra confident, he's actually insecure (his friends know it and they're here to support him)

Hunk

- A GOOD BOY

- Actually a fucking human tank

- He's like??? Insanely strong???

- Worked all his life with his family, decided to take his life in his hands and parted ways

- Knows Lance from childhood, he decided to go with him

- OR he didn't know him at first and he stumbled across him and became best friends ever since

- Best Cook ever

- Worst Pirate ever

- He got used to it though

- GOOD at shooting with cannons

- Actually the Fucking BEST

- Still gets scared about everything else and can you really blame him?

- Can and will repair every single piece of the ship

- Gifted boy with lots of pressure on him, but now he can live freely and do whatever he wants

- the mom friend half of the time

- shares his last two braincells with Pidge and Lance the other half

Pidge

- a fucking savage

- Looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you

- Too fed up with the good girl stays at home sewing socks for nasty babies bullshit

- So she took her tools and left

- Stumbled across Hunk and Lance and found the family she never though she needed

- At some point they collect the other Holt too

- Can do phenomenal tricks with weapons

- Like, she can build from scratch cool things or modify already existent guns and swords and SHE LIKES TO BUILD BOMBS out of FUCKING NOWHERE???

- Blind like a mole

- her only weakness is her sight. No glasses? Sayonara.

- Which is funny because she's the look-out/sentry of the ship

Keith

- Social Anxiety

- Kills people off as a job but turns out to be a soft bean???

- Yeah Lance still has a hard time believing that

- fucking competitive

- loves knives more than people

- Actually love deprived

- "I push them away before they reject me"

- doesn't have a hair/skincare routine but still looks flawless and pretty

- perfect sight 100% perfect muscles super agile like a feline but WILL Stumble down a staircase if looking directly at a cute boy's ass eyes

- Cool in the streets, awkward in the sheets

- But that's cool cause Lance loves everything about him anyway

- Nah he's probably fine in bed, he's just so awkward in the courtship part?

- Which explains why he never had a stable relationship

- other than the fact that he slices people's throats off

- loves his brother

- a free spirit who's long been refrained by his own living style

- things that will change thanks to some cuban boy

- now he slices off people's throats IN THE SEA :D

- really fucking gay

- emo edge lord

Shiro

- Let the man rest in peace

- Wanted to have a normal life, work, get married, make a family and such

- Ends up armless in the middle of the fucking ocean adopting three underage pirates and one depressed boy under the jurisdiction of a runaway royalty.

- Honestly just let him die

- Decided to take a nap, got kidnapped instead

- Decided to get a vacation, got chased by bloody murderers instead

- Just wanted to chill from the start but I guess that's not gonna happen lol

- Actually pretty funny

- Bad dad jokes

- "Oh well since we're already at this point of the situation, might as well roll with it"

- His patience is a mask, he keeps going on by sipping tequila when nobody watches

- Can be awkward. Like, a parent level awkward

- the dad friend half feeling responsible about everything half not giving a shit anymore at some point

- tiddies

Allura

- a fucking badass

- "I can like cute things and can also kick you ass"

- feels bad about 80% of the time but the squad makes her feel worse

- just kidding they actually make her feel inlcuded

- which means they don't care about what she does or doesn't do

- which is new for her cause being a princess means being perfect and have etiquette and such

- but there she can be herself without standing up to any expectations

- so at some point she just lets go and starts living the way she wants

- old like Shiro but childish like Lance

- she and Shiro could be great leaders but here it's Lance supremacy, let the seniors be still and chill

- Even though she's free now, it's a good thing that Lance cares about beauty. They become skin product buddies

- Allura learns the way of a true living and becomes aware of how people live outside the castle (not that she never went out but those occasions became more rare as the enemy slowly rised, that's why Alfor took precautions.)

- (THIS FIC BASICALLY IS ABOUT HOW EVERYONE FOUND FREEDOM THANKS TO LANCE AND HOW ONE OF THEM GIVES HIM HIS HEART)

- God is a woman and her name is Allura

Coran

- the most gorgeous man you'll ever see

- The doctor of the crew!

- Very interested in science and medicine

- Can fix you up in no time, make awful jokes (very appreciated) and can make lotion to make moustaches grow faster

- Professional adviser in the castle becomes a very enthusiast pirate in 0.67 seconds because he's adventurous and lively and honestly everyone needs a Coran in their life

- "Coran, how can you get used to this life this quickly? It took me months to get used to it"

- "Well, you see Princess, it's all about the TONE of the speech and the GESTURE. If you want to be a pirate, you have to act like one" *puts on pirate blindfold and starts making weird noises to assert dominance*

- He's the man with a parrot on his shoulder

- generally enthusiast about everything

- just really loves learning things

- At some point becomes a drug dealer for a short time

- looks like he adopted everyone, is actually still aware of them

- it takes some time but he ends up adopting everyone

- other pirates make him compliments about his mustache

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm being possessed by the inspirational demon and now I can't stop writing. Should I post the fic somewhere once I finish it?

Let me know in the comments :3

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (9) || atz

You’re not dead.

That’s the only thought that drifts in your mind as you lie face up on the forecastle deck, eagle spread like a dead starfish. You watch the sun as it rises over the horizon absentmindedly, even as activity rages beneath you on the main deck.

The gun crews are busy cleaning out the cannons, preparing them for another battle as fast as possible. You don’t see Seonghwa, but you know he’s below decks, leading a team of pirates in checking up on the shot plugs that they used during battle to stop water from gushing in when the ship was hit by cannon fire. You would have been helping San treat the wounded, but one look at your blank, white face and he instructed you to calm down on the forecastle deck instead.

So that’s what you’re doing.

You watch white puffs of clouds drifting past in the clear blue sky. It’s so calm, so peaceful, you find it difficult to believe that you had just been in a sea battle the day before. Only the slight acrid smell of gunpowder that lingers in the air and the occasional holes in the ground from cannon fire reminds you that yesterday was nothing but a dream.

You could have died yesterday.

You’ve just come into this world, with no memories of your previous self, barely at the beginning of the road to recovering your past, so many questions still unanswered, and it could have all ended for you in that one battle.

The erratic beating of your heart pulls you out of your dazed panic.

You try to suck in deep breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you grip the necklace under your shirt tightly. The cuts on your body from the splinters sting and you’re aching from the bruises, but you know other pirates had it far worse.

Then you remember what you did to Jongho’s arm and you wince.

“He’s going to kill me.” You groan, burying your face in your hands. Even after the battle had been won, the young battlemaster had given you a dark glare before storming off to clear the decks of the remaining soldiers.

“Who’s going to kill you?”

You jerk up in shock, spinning around only to see a dark shape dangling upside down from the foremast’s rigging like some sort of giant spider, scaring the living daylights out of you. You yelp in terror and jump back, your foot slipping straight into one of the holes caused by the enemy cannons.

“Ow!” A howl of pain leaves your lips as the sharp edges leave scratches on your calf.

“Woah, careful there!” The dark shape drops from the rigging and hurries over to help you out from your mess. It's Yunho, you realise, covered from head to toe in soot and to your horror, dried blood.

“Yunho-hyung, you need to get to Master San right away! You're going to bleed out-”

He laughs easily, waving your concern away. “No worries! It's not my blood! You should watch out for the holes in the deck till Seonghwa-hyung repairs them.”

You nod, eyes darkening slightly as they rake over the state of the ship. “The Treasure took quite a beating, didn’t she?”

The tall man eyes you curiously as he coils up the rope he was using earlier. “Maybe it’s because you’re new, but these kind of things are pretty common, actually. No worries, Hongjoong-hyung said we’re getting to Tortuga in little less than an hour. We’ll be docking there to finish repairs and replenish stocks.”

At that, you purse your lips. You’re going to reach Tortuga soon, the second time you’re stepping on land after having been on the sea for most of your life since your awakening. The last time didn’t exactly go well for you. “Won’t the Royal Navy be there?”

Yunho shakes his head as he plops next to you, grabbing a rag from his belt and wiping most of the dirt and grime from his face. “Aish, I really want a bath. No, Tortuga is a pirate stronghold, actually. The Royal Navy has little to no power there, so we should be safe… If we pay the town enough money, that is.”

You snort at his last sentence as you lie back on the deck again. The sun is turning the entire sky a beautiful shade of pink-orange, and you turn to see Yunho’s face bathed in the same lovely colour.

He grins at you. “So, who’s going to kill you?”

At that, you shrink into yourself, a little sheepish. You thought you’d distracted him, but it evidently hadn’t worked. “Ah… Well, I was supposed to get to the sickbay during the fight yesterday but I got thrown to the midship area… and Jongho-hyung rescued me.”

Yunho nods proudly, a wide grin curving on his lips as he takes a seat beside you. “Of course he did. He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.”

You wince. “Yeah… But during the battle, I accidentally misfired the musket and killed a soldier fighting with Jongho-hyung-”

The lookout’s eyes go wide with surprise. “So you saved Jongho? That’s amazing!”

“No no no-” You try to protest, but then someone coughs politely behind the two of you.

Both you and Yunho sit up to look at your visitor, only to see the ship’s resident healer standing there.

“Master!” You greet him cheerfully and he nods, studying you carefully for a second.

“Don’t you have work to get to, Yunho-ah?” San says over his shoulder as he checks your complexion and your pulse point for any erratic beating. The lookout pouts adorably, but can’t keep the grin off his face for long.

“Killjoy.” He laughs, before turning back to the foremast. “Catch you later, stowaway.”

San snorts as he watches Yunho go, scaling the rigging easily like a spider does its web. “And not a kind word to me.” Then he turns to you, expression blank as usual but you can read the care in his eyes. “You seem better now, apprentice. I want you to come with me to check an injury for a moment.”

“Ok.” You agree immediately, trailing after him to the sickbay. After the fight yesterday, you’ve realised that you need to acquire as many useful skills as you possibly can so you won’t be a burden to your ship mates during battles. And honestly, healing seems to be the most useful thing you could do for now.

San’s nimble fingers open the latch with ease and the two of you descend to the sickbay. Then you see who it is sitting at the table and you want to run for your life.

It’s Jongho.

You do a complete turn and make to escape before the young battlemaster can notice you, but San grabs you by the arm and hauls you into the room after him. Your master sits himself at the table, and you hover awkwardly next to him, unsure where to look at. Jongho’s eyes immediately pin you to the ground where you stand.

“I want him to learn how to treat a gunshot wound, that’s why he’s here with me.” San explains to Jongho as he pulls out several clean rags, a pair of bronze tweezers and a roll of bandage. The young battlemaster sighs, clearly unwilling, but he nods anyway.

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

San sets to pulling out a spool of thread and a thin needle, from his satchel. “Apprentice, fetch me the lamp and get me the bottle of rum from the shelf.”

You give your master a concerned look as you move towards the shelf hesitantly. “Master, this really isn’t the time to be drinking-”

“I’m using it to clean the wound, idiot. I’m out of marigold. And I abhor the taste of alcohol.” San tuts as he unwraps a sloppily done bandage around Jongho’s upper arm. The wound is a laceration from your stray musket bullet, and from what you can see, it’s still bleeding even though it’s been a few hours since the injury. “Jongho-ah, you know you shouldn’t be helping with the clearing up if you’re injured.”

“They needed someone to move the wreckage from the mizzenmast.” The maknae grunts in way of explanation. You swallow the guilt building up in your throat and move to get the lantern hanging from the low ceiling.

“How did you get this, though?” San continues, tossing the bloodied bandage to the ground. “You usually escape most fights unscathed, or most of your wounds are from close range combat. It’s rare to see you with a musket wound.”

You freeze. You can literally feel Jongho eyeballing the back of your head. But when he finally answers, he simply mutters, “Got sloppy for a moment.”

San coughs. Your master obviously doesn’t believe him but refrains from pressing him, taking the bottle of rum from you and wiping his arms down with them.

“So, apprentice, I’m cleaning my hands with alcohol. It helps to get rid of harmful organisms living on the surface of our bodies.” San works quickly, eyebrows furrowing into concentration as he slides into his ‘healing zone’, where nothing matters to him except the patient, him and occasionally maybe you. “Before you start treating a wound, make sure you clean everything you’re using thoroughly or the wound might get infected.”

“Yes, Master.” You move closer to watch him at his craft. San’s motions are practiced and methodical, as if he’s done it for years, over and over again. When he’s satisfied that everything is spotless, he moves to Jongho’s arm.

“Cloth.” He speaks, and you pass him the clean rags on the table. San soaks them in rum with a pair of tweezers while you cough at the powerful smell of alcohol. You still don’t understand how the rest of your shipmates can just down bottles of it without dying from alcohol poisoning.

Your master ignores you and leans forward, gently dabbing at Jongho’s wound. Apart from a flinch and a muttered curse, the younger battlemaster doesn’t seem to be in much discomfort, even as blood continues to stain the rags red.

“Help me hold down a cloth on his arm.” San instructs firmly as he disposes the last of the dirty rags in a basket. You stare at your master in horror.

“What?”

“You’re not deaf, apprentice. Put pressure on the wound and help me slow the bleeding while I heat the needle.” The healer shoves a cloth into your hands and moves to the lamp, leaving you in awkward silence with Jongho.

You gulp and move towards the maknae, trying not to touch him, but it’s impossible. Laying the cloth over his wound, you press down on it lightly, not wanting to hurt him and trying desperately to ignore his face right next to yours.

“That’s not going to do anything.” Jongho snorts in your ear and you squeak, almost dropping the rag. His large hand covers yours and presses down on it firmly, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

You freeze completely, but the frantic pounds of your heart are otherwise.

“Move to the side, apprentice. I want you to watch this carefully.” San returns with a sterilized and threaded needle, seating himself before Jongho and thankfully sparing you the close contact with the battlemaster. “I’m going to start suturing the wound.”

You breathe in and out quickly, trying to calm your racing heart as you move to make space for your master. Your hand slips from the maknae’s grasp. The slim man crouches in front of Jongho, eyes narrowed in intense focus. With quick, deft movements, he holds the needle with the tweezers and pulls the needle through Jongho’s skin, leaving a row of neat stitches in its wake.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” The words slip out of your mouth worriedly as you glance at Jongho. The battlemaster merely turns away.

San replies in his place as he continues stitching the wound. “I usually put a painkiller made of lavender on the area before I start, but Jongho’s a tough boy, so it’s no problem for him.”

“I am a man. I’m nineteen already.” Jongho grunts in exasperation, but the healer ignores him.

“You’re going to be nineteen.” San corrects him with a grin, finishing of the stitches and snipping the thread with a pair of scissors. The maknae gives him an irritated glare.

“I hate you, hyung.” He grumbles. But before San can reply with another wiseass comment, the sound of Mingi’s voice comes echoing into the sickbay.

“We’ve arrived at Tortuga!”

[siennahrobek]

“He’s holding me back,” Anakin snarled as Obi-Wan carefully paced a cup of steaming tea in front of him. He had come to the older master quite readily after he and Qui-Gon had joined their crew. Getting picked up by a fleet of venator class destroyers could either be incredibly embarrassing or quite impressive. Obi-Wan isn’t entirely sure which Anakin thinks. He had steeped Anakin something sweet and calming; exactly what the young knight needed. It was pretty much what he needed all the time, to be honest. The boy had more than just a bit of a temper.

Being around Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t exactly help.

The man rather indulged him.

Obi-Wan shrugged as he sat down on the opposite side of the thin table, shifting the cup towards Anakin and pulling his own closer. He made direct eye contact as he took a sip. Usually, it would prompt Anakin to do the same. In the company of certain people, Anakin sometimes mirrored others’ actions. Obi-Wan was one of those people. “Perhaps. But you are no longer a padawan. A knight in your own right,” he assured gently. He honestly doubted that Qui-Gon was actually holding Anakin back; Obi-Wan was fairly certain no one could really hold him back.

Sometimes however, he could be convinced to step back once in a while. It was a rare occurrence, but it had happened before.

“He’s jealous of my power,” Anakin snapped, nearly cracking the mug his fingers were laced around. Obi-Wan gently put a hand over his to stop it and pull it away. Anakin’s fingers were trembling in the jedi’s own and Obi-Wan gave a gentle, assuring squeeze before he pushed the mug a little further into Anakin’s purview.

In the end, Obi-Wan had actually snorted. The concept was rather ridiculous, his master being anything of the sort. Anakin was thinking things, perhaps even told things like this, but it couldn’t be the truth. “Doubtfully,” he muttered, something low but able for the younger man to hear rather clearly. He cleared his voice to continue. “Qui-Gon Jinn isn’t jealous of anyone, least of all you, Anakin. Take a sip, you will feel better.”

He hesitated but Anakin did so, mirroring Obi-Wan. They drank in silence, but the air was turning more comfortable. Tension bled from his shoulders as they released, and he slumped down a little bit. Anakin’s temper always seemed to be running high these days and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he could help in a way that Anakin really needed. He only, currently, had momentarily solutions to a bigger issue.

“A bit better?” he asked. He knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Anakin admitted begrudgingly with a sigh, shaking his head. He glanced over down below the balcony and then back at Obi-Wan, something sad but fiery in his eyes. It was a rather strange combination, Obi-Wan had to admit. “I should be out here, with you. In the war. Fighting.”

“It is not as glamorous as you are thinking it is,” the older jedi just hummed, taking a sip of his own tea and once again, Anakin took his own sip. He wondered if the younger man realized what he did.

“I know that.”

“You don’t,” Obi-Wan refuted but it was kind and patient, shooting a look to project that when Anakin stared at him, a bit angry at his counter. He didn’t like people contradicting him or telling him what he knew. Usually he wouldn’t, but Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had no idea what war was actually like. Not like this. Obi-Wan just tried to keep himself as serene and enduring as ever, to deal with Anakin’s irritated and frustrated disagreements. “I would not expect you too, either. Master Jinn is right about one thing, we shouldn’t be fighting a war.”

“You agree with him?” Anakin sputtered, surprised. The concept was befuddling to him and Obi-Wan wondered what exactly he knew about the war. Master Jinn was certainly not favorable; he couldn’t imagine the older master saying anything nice about it. Perhaps he even spun falsehoods. “Then why do you?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan looked over the ledge that sat about the rest of the mess hall, off to the side. Down below them was the rest of the mess hall and cafeteria, littered and crawling with troopers. Obi-Wan could feel them, he could always feel them. They filled him with such warmth and care, it made it just a bit easier to get up each morning and fight in a war that he could not stand being in. Yes, it was to protect innocents, but he reminded himself everyday that he could do what he had to protect as many as them as well. “Reach out and tell me what you feel,” he added. It was more of a suggestion than a demand but rarely did Anakin see that kind of difference.

Anakin sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at him intently. “You are not my master, Obi-Wan.” This much was true. Anakin was a knight, he no longer needed – or wanted for that matter – a master telling him what to do, but Obi-Wan had a point. At his core, he always knew he would be a bit of a teacher. He always had a point.

“Humor me,” Obi-Wan glanced at him with a kind smile.

The younger man just sighed again, loud and dramatic, and eventually complied. He looked over, beyond the railing, down in the large room that harbored so many soldiers. Some of them were in their amor uniform, usually sans helmet and others in blacks. Officers had their own uniforms that they were hardly out of, whether they were clone or not. A minute passed. Two.

Obi-Wan just waited patiently.

But then. “What do you feel?”

“They are warm,” Anakin acknowledged, his voice starting to soften, just as Obi-Wan spotted his eyes doing the same. “Brighter than I expected them to be. “They are strong, loyal, determined. Doing their best and being their best. They care about one another such certainty and persistence.” His smile was gentle and kind, lacking the fiery passion that usually inhabited him.

He could make friends here, Obi-Wan thought.

But Obi-Wan just nodded and Anakin looked back at him. He was still in a bit of a daze, probably from seeing and feeling all that warmth and light, but he was still listening, probably expecting Obi-Wan to tell him his point for the exercise. Whether or not Obi-Wan would say anything, he knew that Anakin didn’t quite regret what the older master had asked of him. “They are living and breathing beings. Sentients with hopes and dreams, whether they admit it or not. Whether they consciously know it or not,” he started. Many times, had he heard that the soldiers only dreamed of the survival of themselves and their brothers from one day to the next and didn’t think of the future that they may have afterwards. Although Obi-Wan believed them, when they said such things, he also thought they had subconscious desires and dreams for that future. Hopes for it. Even if they hadn’t been able to quite realize them yet. He truly hoped he could help them get to that point.

“I know they are,” Anakin added quietly, staring down at his tea before taking a small sip, unprompted. Obi-Wan counted it as a win. It was hard enough for Anakin to drink tea, even when he knew it helped him.

“They are a large reason why I do this. Why I must,” Obi-Wan responded, just as soft, staring down at the gently swirling liquid in his cup.

Anakin glanced up at him, his head turning a bit. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan pointed to the corner of the mess hall, a small table inhabited by non-clones and non-jedi. There weren’t many of them, but Anakin had a thought that it was rather on purpose. They packed together, rather tightly and did not move away from their specific table, keeping together and not milling with anyone else around. “What do you feel from them?” he asked, a bit abruptly.

Anakin groaned again but it was light and only half-hearted, but did so, taking a breath before letting his eyes sweep over the room and then settle on the table in the corner. He closed his eyes briefly and reached. With a frown, he started to speak, to explain what he felt. It didn’t appear that he liked what he was feeling, what he found in them. “They…aren’t happy. But…not in the sense of war, not in grief or sadness but like, they are dim, displeased, annoyed. They feel…disgust? Indifference?”

Obi-Wan nodded. He had felt it.

“Do they…are their feelings because of the clones?” Anakin asked, startled at the thought and pending realization.

“Sometimes, yes. Those few right there think of the troopers much like the rest of the galaxy sees them. As though they are droids encased in flesh; worthy only to be cannon fodder,” Obi-Wan explain, only sparing those men a quick glance. He looked back at the troopers that made up most of the room and Anakin could feel him softening again.

Anakin’s lip curled as a snarl escaped out. The thought made him angry.

“They do not care so much for casualties, only absolute victory, no matter the cost,” Obi-Wan continued. “If they jedi were not here to use tactics and ideas that wouldn’t decimate the numbers…I imagine it would be much worse,” he sighed, shaking his head with a deepening frown. “The clones are so willing, so eager, so loyal. I do not quite understand how anyone can meet them and not love them.”

“You are trying to save them,” Anakin said and felt pushed around by the appreciation and care for the troopers. It was interesting to feel. Jedi were known for their compassion and kindness, their wiliness to help others, sometimes even at the cost of their own lives, but it felt a bit different with the troopers. Anakin was beginning to understand why the jedi may have chosen to enter the war; if only to try and help in any way they could. There was something different about these beings. Like they were somehow intertwined with the jedi. Made to be friends, to work together, made for one another in a way that was profound, and one Anakin couldn’t quite understand or comprehend in words. He wondered if others had noticed this.

“I am not so naïve to think I can do so,” Obi-Wan replied, breaking through Anakin’s thoughts. “But I want to get at least as many as I can through this war. They…care about us in a way we don’t generally see associated with the jedi. The least we can do is try to get them through this and return the favor the best we can.”

“Do other jedi feel this way?” Anakin hadn’t even realized he had spoke for a moment, verbally saying what he had been thinking just seconds prior. Sometimes he felt so different than others, like he was the only one who could connect on the level that he did. Like he was an exception.

Master Qui-Gon thought he was an exception.

Obi-Wan nodded and there was absolutely no hesitation to it. “Not everyone of course, but most, at the very least. Even if we hadn’t been drafted into the war, I think the Council would have done the same.”

“Drafted?” Anakin blinked.

“Yes.”

“Wait. So, the Order was forced to join the war?” Anakin asked incredulously because…that was not what he had heard. Over a year in and this was the first he had heard of such a thing.

Obi-Wan hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one giving this information, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one having this conversation, but his brows furrowed, and he nodded. “Yes, Anakin,” he replied slowly. He had to be careful with how he spoke. Anakin’s friendship with the leader of the Republic was not exactly a secret and everyone knew how protective Anakin was of his friends. “The Chancellor made it…very clear we did not have much of a choice.”

“Master Qui-Gon said you chose it,” Anakin responded, and he sounded numb, his voice just kind of dropping off in surprise.

You, Obi-Wan mused with darkening thoughts. Had Qui-Gon meant Obi-Wanspecifically chose this or was Qui-Gon distancing himself from the jedi already? Had his old master turned Anakin against the jedi; made him see himself an exception for everything? Chosen one or not, Anakin was a jedi. That was not to change unless Anakin chose to change it. But one could not continue to truly be a jedi if they thought of themselves as exceptions to the rules, to the guidelines, to the faith of their culture.

“No, Anakin,” his voice came out nearly as a croak. “The Order was drafted.”

“But Master Jinn…” Anakin drifted off, staring down at his tea. There was barely any of it left. “If the Jedi were drafted, not everyone is involved. Master Jinn, he…he’s not a part of it.”

“We found a loophole for him,” Obi-Wan confessed and it felt a bit different when he spoke it. He found a loophole for his former master; to ease the mess. He couldn’t imagine what Qui-Gon would have done or said if they hadn’t kept him out of it. Whether or not it was the right choice, Obi-Wan knew, even if they could get Qui-Gon to work within the confines of the war, he would almost certainly have become Obi-Wan’s problem. And Obi-Wan dealt with his old master enough as it was. “He was rather vehement in his stance on the war, so we claimed his injury and ability would make quote useless on the battle field,” he explained.

“His injury?” Anakin echoed.

“From Naboo.”

Anakin nodded in sudden understanding but his gaze was far off, nearly vacant, like there was something happening in his mind, wheels turning that not even Obi-Wan could fathom or comprehend. “I guess that is smart. He wouldn’t have listened anyways,” he confessed. It sounded rather fond, which wasn’t surprising. Anakin’s soft and often blind spot when it came to Master Jinn was always apparent. He loved Master Jinn’s blatant disregard for rules, to follow what he thought and believed was the will of the Force. Whether or not it actually was the Will of the Force, it hardly mattered. It was the will of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Qui-Gon often seemed to believe that he was the only one who really understood the will of the Force.

At this point, everyone was too tired and too busy to even try to argue with him. Not that anyone wanted to argue with him because it never did anything, never got anywhere. One could not change Jinn’s mind, could not shift his perspective or make him think in any other ways.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“I wasn’t forced,” Anakin realized quietly after a long moment of the two sitting in silence, sipping what was left of their tea, not lukewarm. “I wasn’t even asked,” he added.

“That is partially my doing,” Obi-Wan confessed. He knew he would have to have this conversation at some point, and he had been dreading it ever since it had been done.

Anakin surged in anger and Obi-Wan could feel it. It was fairly certain everyone could feel it. The troopers in particular seemed rather sensitive and knowing of a jedi’s moods and projections. “Why?” Anakin demanded. “Did you not think I’d be good enough for-?”

“Anakin, calm down,” Obi-Wan said, quickly slipping in his own before things could get any worse and his projections stronger. “Take a sip of your tea.”

There was not much left but there was enough. Scowling, he complied.

“Qui-Gon was already going to disown me, and I knew how you feel about him, and you were still a padawan at the time…I didn’t want the same to happen to you,” Obi-Wan started. He wasn’t sure how to explain this but he would do his best with what he had on hand.

“I’m not you.”

Ouch, that stung. It was true, of course, in many more ways than Anakin knew, but that hardly made it hurt any less.

“That came out wrong,” Anakin nearly winced.

“You aren’t wrong. You aren’t me,” Obi-Wan said, which, of course, was always true. Lucky him, the master thought. He didn’t say that Qui-Gon loved Anakin in a way that he was still incapable of caring for Obi-Wan. It wasn’t either of their faults and Obi-Wan knew a lot of the blame could be found on Xanatos and the Chosen One prophecy, but that hardly made it any easier to live and deal with. It could very much be exhausting. Anakin didn’t see it, not yet, and Obi-Wan still isn’t entirely sure if he ever would. “But that does not mean he would be happy with it. You know how he feels about the war, about my part in it. About the jedi’s part in it. I didn’t want you to have to go through that. Something even remotely like that. My apologies, I wanted to keep you out of the war best I could. You are so young.”

“I am an adult! A knight!” Anakin’s voice rose into a near screech. So ready, so adamant to prove that he is mature and capable and an adult. Of course, he was capable, but his maturity wasn’t nearly as rounded as he liked to believe, and he often just did not think. He reminded Obi-Wan of Master Jinn this way. It was his way or no way at all. But unlike Master Jinn, at least in the present some of the times, Anakin was also just a bit more inclined to listen to Obi-Wan. Not all the time, of course, because Anakin always thought he was right, but with the right care and nudging and so much patience, Obi-Wan, on occasion, could get through to him on certain subjects.

“Anakin,” he said his name with as much fondness and softness and patience as he could muster. Which, when it came to this boy, was quite a bit. “War is….it is not like any mission you have been on. It is constant and it does not end. There is a goal, but it does not finish there. There is always something else, something so time sensitive. You don’t get to go home after one mission is done, there is always another, linked swinging from one to another. There is so much more violence and death, and it chips off pieces of yourself every moment. It stays with you, long, long after the conflict may be resolved,” he said, and Anakin seemed rather enraptured in what Obi-Wan was saying. He couldn’t understand all of what Obi-Wan was referencing and he wouldn’t understand how this would stay with those who fought in it. Conflict like this, although not to scale, was something Obi-Wan knew, at times, rather intimately. “It is an experience, a pain, a dirt you can never be clean of,” he insisted, swallowing hard. “War is messy, and nothing is so clean cut as people often make it out to be. You keep giving things up; your ability, your mind, your emotions, your morals, your soul, loyalty, trust…. until there is nothing left of you to give. It becomes written in your bones until it is hard to imagine you were anything else. It takes the best things of life, of ourselves, and only gives back the worst and most destructive for us to figure out how to live with.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

+ A Nightmare Before Christmas 

First of all, its mostly Disney. Second of all, I hope you know that this was a struggle for me. 

Also, note, Bubba will be the only Leatherface in this post and Billy and Stu will be the only Ghostfaces. There is Norma Bates though, so sort of a consolation. 

There are links to videos on YouTube ^^

~~~

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher / Ghostface: Playing With the Big Boy’s Now (Hotep and Huy, Prince of Egypt) 

Well... they’re part of the ‘big boys’, now! They are part of the Slashers group that, uh, ‘inspired them’. Imagine instead of Egyptian Gods, they’re chanting Slasher names. 

[HUY] Pick up your silly twig, boy [HOTEP & HUY] You're playing with the big boys now! Ha ha ha ha!

[EGYPTIAN PRIESTS] By the power of Ra Mut, Nut, Khnum, Ptah Sobek, Sekhmet, Sokar, Selket Anubis, Anukis Hemsut, Tefnut, Meshkent, Mafdet... 

Chop Top and Nubbins + Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface: Kidnap Mr Sandy Claws (Lock, Shock and Barrel, Nightmare Before Christmas) 

I mean... they aren't Drayton’s minions, but they are like this XD 

I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door And then knock three times And when he answers Sandy Claws will be no more

Yes you're so stupid, think now If we blow him up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then Jack will beat us black and green

Kidnap the Sandy Claws Tie him in a bag

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: In The Dark Of The Night (Rasputin, Anastasia)

Mystical man? Check! ‘Betrayal’ (As far as he sees it)? Check. Made them pay? Check; I think Nica, Sarah and all the other families he destroys throughout the franchise can attest to that. And ‘One little girl got away’? Well Andy isn’t a girl, but yeah. Check. 

I was once the most mystical man in all Russia When the royals betrayed me they mad a mistake My curse made each of them pay But one little girl got away Little Anya, beware Rasputin's awake

Drayton Sawyer: Don’t Fall In Love (Forte, Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas) 

Its such a crochety, unessessarily rude way of describing relationships to someone! I mean, I understand completely and resonate deeply with the desire to be alone and not be responsible for anyone else, but- come on! Beast doesn't share your view! Let it go! 

Its just like Drayton’s reaction to Bubba having a crush. Super cool video too! 

As soon as your heart rules your head Your life is not your own It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone

And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?

Freddy Krueger: No More Mr Nice Guy (Rothbart, Swan Princess) 

A man with an uncomfortable relationship with the main female character pretending to be normal and not homicidal for a while before unlocking more power and letting there inner bad guy loose and taking great pleasure in it? Sounds familiar. They also have a similar vocabulary- except of course Rothbart is rated G. 

I'll become that nasty, naughty, dirty, spiteful Wicked, wayward, way-delightful Bad guy I was born to be

Lyin' loathesome, never-tender Indiscreet repeat offender No more Mr Nice Guy That's not me 

Inkubus: The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind (Professor Rattigan, The Greatest Mouse Detective)

‘Inkubus’ is literally a movie about him listing all his crimes over the centuries and messing with the police force because he has a bone to pick with a detective. Sounds pretty similar to me! Listen to the song! ^^

Now comes the real tour de force Tricky and wicked, of course! My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain! 

Jason Voorhees: Despicable Me (About Gru, Despicable Me) 

I... this is all I could think of!! But the more I listen to it and read the lyrics... it f i t s Jason so well! XD Please just let this slide; I know Gru isn't really a villain but he is at the start!! Let me have this. 

Why ask why? Better yet "Why not?" Why are you marking x on that spot? Why use a blow torch isn't that hot? Why use a chainsaw? Is that all you got? Why do you like seeing people in shock? But my question to you is "Why not?" Why go to the bank and stand in line Just use a freeze gun it saves me time. I'm havin' a bad, bad day It's about time that I get my way Steam rollin' whatever I see, Huh, despicable me I'm havin' a bad, bad day If you take it personal that's okay Watch, this is so fun to see Huh, despicable me

Jennifer Check: Trust In Me (Kaa, The Jungle Book) 

She’s a succubus demon. Tempting boys into a safe-feeling, docile state so she she can strike is her thing. 

Will cease to resist Just relax Be at rest Like a bird In a nest

Trust in me Just in me Shut your eyes And trust in me

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: Savages (Governor Ratcliffe and the Colonizer’s parts, Pocahontas) 

Obviously, because of the (Inaccurate) historical relevance of both movies (Different time’s, same terrible prejudice,) and also because there is definitely a very cult-ish feel about both Governor Ratcliffe’s song and Buckman’s leadership. How easily they’re able to gather support from their people for the most horrible reasons. How horrifying it is to audiences and historians. 

They're only good when dead They're vermin, as I said And worse

They're savages! Savages!

Barely even human

Savages! Savages!

Drive them from our shore! They're not like you and me Which means they must be evil We must sound the drums of war!

Michael Myers: The Gospel Truth II (Muses about Hades, Hercules)

In a Disney movie, Michael would have others sing his song about him as he goes about his silent, determined walking XD 

If there's one God you don't want to get steamed up It's Hades 'Cause he had an evil plan He ran the underworld But thought the dead were dull and uncouth He was as mean as he was ruthless And that's the gospel truth He had a plan to shake things up And that's the gospel truth

Midnight Man: Oogie Boogie’s Song (Oogie Boogie, Nightmare Before Christmas)

A song about a “Gamblin’ Boogie Man” is perfect for the Midnight Man! He and Oogie could be pals. 

Woah! The sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine

Norma Bates: Mother Knows Best Reprise (Mother Gothel, Tangled)

Norma is soooooo so so so unbelievably manipulative towards Norman (And Dylan. It just works better on Norman) and this song absolutely presents that. She can go from sweet, loving mother to spiteful, heinous bitch in two seconds if Norman or Dylan don't do what or react the way she wants them to. 

Likes you? Please, Rapunzel, that's demented

This is why you never should have left! Dear, this whole romance that you've invented, Just proves you're too naive to be here Why would he like you? Come on now, really! Look at you, you think that he's impressed? Don't be a dummy Come with mummy

Pamela Voorhees: My Lullaby (Zira, The Lion King 2)

In a opposite approach to a villainous mother to Norma, we have Pam, who was heartbroken by the camp councillors letting her son die and vowed to get revenge. She didn't know she was teaching Jason to be the Crystal Lake killer like Zira did, but she did, and the whole song does have her kind of feel to it also. 

Sleep, my little Kovu Let your dreams take wing One day when you're big and strong You will be a kingI've been exiled, persecuted Left alone with no defense When I think of what that brute did I get a little tense But I dream a dream so pretty That I don't feel so depressed 'Cause it soothes my inner kitty And it helps me get some rest

Patrick Bateman: Cruella De Vil (Arthur, 101 Dalmations) 

Never before was there a song that described audiences reaction to watching Patrick living in his daily life and hearing his thoughts better then this one. 

Cruella De Vil Cruella De Vil If she doesn't scare you No evil thing will To see her is to Take a sudden chill Cruella, Cruella De Vil

The curl of her lips The ice in her stare All innocent children Had better beware She's like a spider waiting For the kill Look out for Cruella De Vil

Pennywise (Both): You’re Only Second Rate (Jafar, Return of Jafar)

Mostly for the video and Jafar’s energy in this scene actually XD So many transformations, so many tasteless puns! I was going to give this to Freddy but its the closest thing to Penny I could think of. 

Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size I'll make a great escape It's just a piece of cake You're only second rate You know your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough And your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up Let me pontificate upon your sorry state You're only second rate

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: Hellfire (Judge Claude Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame) 

A nasty filthy man who think’s he’s in the right despite being the biggest creep and monster ever? Mhm. 

*Note: I honestly didn't notice the deformed baby, Quasimodo/Thomas link until the day after I wrote this. Don't know how I feel about it. I mean, Hoyt is actually nice, in his way, to Thomas so the connection isn't totally there but onwards:

Beata Maria You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue I am justly proud

Beata Maria You know I'm so much purer than The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd 

End of Post! 🌼

(Bonus’ under the cut) 

I did think of other connections which I obviously didnt landed on but still have merit! Here! 

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher: ‘Gaston’ was considered, but that would have just been a joke XD I don’t think Stu is quite as obsessed with Billy as LeFou is with Gaston. 

Chucky: Friends on the Other Side. Obviously! That link was actually what inspired me to make this post. In The Dark of Night fits to a T though. 

Freddy Krueger: You’re Only Second Rate! Ah, its perfectttt. But No More Mr Nice Guy fits better. If I ever do a Slashers as Disney Villains post, he’ll be Jafar for sure. Or Hades. Or Scar. Or Oogie. Probably Hades. You know what? Without the gore and blood and explicit sexual references, Freddy could be a Disney Villain himself. Its not like Disney hasn't towed the line before with perverted villains. >_> (Jafar and Frollo) 

Jason and Pamela Voorhees: Mother Knows Best! Of course. 

Jennifer Check: Love is For Peasants (Barbie Island Princess) Because Jennifer thinks like this: 

Men? <<< Literally anything else. 

Patrick Bateman: How Can I Refuse? (From Barbie Princess and the Pauper) XD If Patrick were a kids movie villain, he would totally join the ranks of corrupted usurpers pretending to be trustworthy royal advisory staff. Also ‘Let It Die’, that little interruption part of another song that O’Hare sings in the Lorax and ‘How Bad Can I be?’. 

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 13

Chapter title: Finale

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this fic. From the ones who were here at the beginning to the ones who joined in along the way, and even to the ones who are just reading this for the first time now: thank you! I really appreciate your support and willingness to read all about this idea of mine. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

Warnings for nightmares and vague descriptions of violence, just in case.

First  | Previous 

...

In the end, another week or so was needed to finally get everything sorted out with G.U.N.- seven days which began to feel less and less stressful and more like an extended sleepover as time flew by. Eventually, though, the organization was shut down and most of their contacts closed off, leaving the country as safe as it could ever be for Teams Dark and Sonic to return.

Even as the former team began to move back into Club Rouge, setting up what little personal artifacts they had left (the suitcase they’d had was being shipped back to them from the motel in Central City where they’d left it), the club itself remained dark and empty, the three residents living above it still too wary to feel ready to reopen. Rouge, Shadow, and Omega spent about four days just living off their considerable savings and watching TV, attempting to get used to a somewhat normal life again after so long without it. 

Rouge got to enjoy those late mornings she’d been hoping for, Omega was able to do his favorite activities without taking responsibility for the team anymore, and Shadow…

...there were good times and bad times, with him.

He would often find himself utterly at peace in some moments, cooking a meal after insisting that Rouge couldn’t eat takeout all the time as his two best friends shouted wildly at their newest favorite show, and he couldn’t help but smile at all the cheerfulness that surrounded him. But at the same time, he woke up screaming nearly every night, unable to stop seeing Rouge and Omega dragged off to an unknown fate by G.U.N., or worse, seeing them lifeless and sprawled on the floor, unable to do anything to save them at all….

Both his friends would always come into his room (they’d actually started sleeping in there now to help him better) and hold him until the panic dissipated, assuring him that they were alright and that there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

This, however, wasn’t entirely true just yet.

One night, a would-be attacker (one of the last remnants of G.U.N.’s influence guiding them, most likely) picked the lock on the door and entered the club, sneaking across the ground floor. Rouge heard them first with her hyper-sensitive ears, whispering the situation quickly to Shadow. Suddenly, before she could stop him, he darted silently to the door, prepared to fight if necessary. The bat could defend herself just fine, of course, but he was still very much on edge.

It turned out that he didn’t need to worry, though, because as the intruder began to creep up the two flights of stairs, they glanced to their left on the darkened first floor. And spotted an absolutely terrifying pair of glowing red eyes staring at them from the darkness.

That alone would have been enough to make them scream and leave rapidly (they weren’t by any means as trained as some of G.U.N.’s other contacts) but Omega saw fit to point two charging laser cannons at them, too, and quite honestly even Sonic would’ve been surprised at the speed with which that intruder ran.

After that, Rouge decided that she’d had enough relaxing for a while and that she needed some structure in her life, so she opened up the club again and started it working (albeit on a limited basis, she wasn’t quite prepared for a full schedule yet). The well-known hotspot had been sorely missed, as evidenced by the large number of customers- and tips. The bat was delighted to see some of her favorite regulars again, and they were more than happy to accept the shortened hours just so long as it stayed open.

Eventually, though, as it became clear that the bat was fully prepared to just sweep the stress of this adventure under the rug and go back to daily life as it was before, she ended up subjected to quite a few discussions from Omega, Knuckles and even Sonic about her...habits. They were all too aware of how much strain she’d been under during their time on the run, not to mention all of the verbal attacks and physical stress she’d had to deal with beforehand. At first, she managed to brush it off, insisting that she was perfectly fine and that this sort of thing wasn’t necessary at all.

Omega had cornered her one day in her room though, with only a single sentence to say: “Think about the example you’re setting for Shadow.”

Rouge’s ears drooped slightly in guilt as she realized just how much a) Shadow based some of his behaviors off of her and b) how vehemently he had opposed the idea of therapy when it was first mentioned. 

She sighed quietly. “Just one. For Shadow. And nothing’s going to come of it, you hear me?”

Two days later, she walked into the office calmly, her cool business face on and her skepticism high. The therapist she met with was young, friendly, and quite earnest and eager to help her in any way they could. As they listened to the story of her life, though, their face twisted in concern. “I understand you enjoy your job and the risks that come with it...but all those awful things people have said to you- that’s terrible!”

Rouge shrugged her shoulders. “It’s part of the job, y’know? Just have to grin and bear it.”

They looked down at their desk quietly. “How long have you been ‘grinning and bearing it’ for, exactly?”

“....a while.”

Rouge left the office after a little more talking with a distinct feeling of unease in her chest. She drove home quietly, with none of the usual music or radio that she liked on. The bat remained absolutely silent as she entered the house, too, which was the first major sign to both of her friends that something was wrong.

Shadow and Omega appeared at her side quickly, asking her what had happened and what was wrong (with quite a few threats of violence to the person who had upset her) which unfortunately had the opposite effect to what they were hoping for and instead just made her eyes start to water a little.

“Rouge, what’s going on?” Shadow asked, worried, as he pulled her over to the couch. 

She managed to calm herself relatively quickly, and eventually found the words to explain how  the biting words she heard every day cut deeper than she let on. How she took on mountains of emotional stress because she was the leader, and the oldest, and it was her responsibility. 

The bat quickly tried to add that neither of them needed to worry about this, it was fine, that she was still the oldest and she’d accepted that responsibility and she could work out the stress on her own. As Omega began to insist on providing various objections to every last one of those arguments, Shadow vanished, only to return within a couple of minutes with a bag of mystery supplies.

“Today’s your off day, right?” he asked, with a determined look in his eyes.

“Yes, hon.” she said quietly. “I should probably go do the shopping at some point-”

“After therapy? No way.” Omega declared, putting a hand on her head and pushing her back down onto the couch after she’d started to get up. 

“I’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Shadow said calmly. “I remember you haven’t been to the spa in a long time, and even if we can’t make you an appointment this late, we can still do something else.”

Omega pulled a packaged ‘hydrating and exfoliating face mask’ from the bag, holding it by the corner and looking as confused as he could possibly get. “I have no idea what this does, but if you like it then that’s fine, I suppose.” he said, handing it back to Shadow gingerly.

“Aww, guys, you don’t have to-” she insisted, disliking the idea of them having to do any work regarding her own emotional burdens.

“Yes we do.” they said in sync. 

“And this needs to be at least a biweekly occurrence, too.” Omega declared.

“A Rouge day?” Shadow asked. “I agree.”

The bat protested weakly, but allowed herself to be dragged upstairs, and various soaps with relaxing scents to be placed in her hands. “And here’s a bath bomb. Or, uh, three.” The hybrid looked sheepish. “I don’t know which kind you like.”

“And do not come out until you are sufficiently relaxed.” Omega ordered her, before pushing her into the bathroom gently.

Rouge gave a quiet yet fond sigh as she looked down at the various self-care items in her hands. Those two could really be stubborn sometimes, whether about fighting or friendship.

Quickly, she swung open the door and gave them both a hug, then vanished back inside the bathroom before either could react.

The rest of the day was spent taking care of Rouge, whether it was Shadow painting her nails or Omega agreeing to watch her favorite show that night (even if he couldn’t seem to understand why people in drama shows didn’t just do what they wanted instead of agonizing about it so much). That definitely wasn’t the end of it, though.

Eventually, she managed to go back for a few more sessions just to straighten things out and figure out how to care for herself better in the long run. It didn’t hurt, either, that anytime Shadow or Omega caught someone insulting her (and her ignoring it), whether it be for her looks or her interest in a store’s jewelry, they would verbally tear into the person with such fury that Rouge was nearly embarrassed…

...but not quite. It felt good to be looked out for, she had to admit, and they were showing how much they cared about her in their own way.

It turned out that Shadow was showing it in another way, too, albeit one she didn’t notice at first. One day, as she checked through her finances, the bat realized that her bank account had begun to grow too quickly to be normal. When she checked through her balance, she discovered that someone was adding mystery payments every Friday.

Rouge found out why one afternoon when she came back from shopping early to discover Shadow standing in the living room, pulling off some sort of light green shirt and draping it over the back of a chair as he moved to the kitchen (probably for some coffee beans).

“Something you need to tell me, hon?” she asked, and was only slightly surprised when he yelled in shock, hands crackling with Chaos energy before he realized it was her. 

“Ugh...Rouge, don’t scare me like that…” he sighed.

“You didn’t answer my question, Shadow.” she shot back.

He shuffled around nervously, seeming unwilling to provide her with a straight answer. Once he realized that there was no getting out of this, though, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of the hybrid gulping briefly before taking a deep breath. “I...I’ve been working part-time arranging flowers.” he said, rushing the words out as though that would keep her from understanding them.

“Honey, you know you don’t have to do that- we still have enough money to handle the club’s current hours for a while longer…” she began, worrying that he was pushing himself too hard.

Shadow folded his arms. “Keeping us afloat isn’t all up to you, remember? And I actually enjoy it- it’s kind of calming.” he said, almost defiantly.

“If you insist.” she replied. “But make sure not to mess up your schedule, you know you need to make sure you’re getting your rest after everything.”

The hybrid rolled his eyes. “I’m the Ultimate Lifeform, I don’t need-”

“Wrong answer.” Omega said from the doorway, folding his arms and glowering at Shadow. Rouge had an expression to match, seeming pretty distressed by what he’d said.

“Shadow, hon, you keep using that title as an excuse not to take care of yourself, and that’s just as unhealthy as me ignoring people who try and bother me.” she said softly. “I...think you should really consider talking to the same person I did- it’s really helped, you know that.”

The hybrid sulked in the car on the way to the office a couple days later, but didn’t actively attempt to resist, so he probably knew that Rouge was right. He told his story to them in the most calm, nonchalant manner he could pull off, though his friends did take over the story occasionally when his voice trailed off.

By the end of it, the young mouse was frowning at their desk again. “Honestly, I’m...I’m speechless. The fact that so many people were willing to treat you so badly- it’s horrible. So...I’m really glad you’re here, and I’ll do my best to help you however I can.”

Shadow was a little touched by this amount of concern from what was essentially a stranger, though he remained resistant to their suggestions at first. However, a day or two later, he had yet another nightmare- and a bad one too. Ordinarily, he’d just ignore it and lie awake for hours trying to get back to sleep, but this time, he happened to recall what the therapist had said.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Shadow. You deserve it just as much as anyone else- no matter what some people may have said.”

He tried to avoid the thought, but his mind wouldn’t rest and he couldn’t even begin to relax. (Truthfully, he was too scared to, in case the nightmares came back.) Guiltily, he got up, shuffled over to Rouge’s room, and opened the door quietly. It took him a long moment to even work up the nerve to walk over to her bedside, but eventually he did. He shook her awake gently by the shoulder, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Oh, Shadow….” was all she said, before pulling him gently under the blankets with her and holding him tight.

The hybrid felt so pathetic and childish, yet he still buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a quiet sniffle. He could smell a mixture of her perfume and shampoo, and it calmed him slowly, as did the feeling of her arms around him. Eventually, he managed to fall back asleep to the sound of her breathing, and spent the rest of the night in relative peace.

When Shadow woke up early in the morning and Omega was right beside the bed, one of his hands resting comfortingly on his side, he didn’t even question it. He just placed his hand right over one of the giant metal fingers before resting a while longer, a small smile on his face.

As the days continued and the two Mobians started taking care of themselves more- with lower stress levels and many more peaceful nights as a result- Shadow finally even worked up the nerve to spend some time with Omega at the firing range. 

They had made careful plans. There were noise-canceling earmuffs available for free upon entry, and Shadow wouldn’t even be in the same room as most of the weaponry. He had a katana sword and he knew where the practice dummies were, and that was enough.

They’d be able to see each other through a glass window and wave (and show off, of course). So while Shadow approached the building with a slight air of trepidation, he also felt rather excited to be able to work on his fighting skills once again, especially with his friend.

That is, until the attendant at the desk refused to give him the headset when he asked for it.

“You have to rent an item to get the free headphones,” the young woman said, looking bored and generally unsympathetic. “That’s the rule.”

“I don’t see anything saying that.” Shadow shot back, but inside he felt more nervous than anything. He couldn’t stay here if he didn’t get that equipment, but he’d really wanted to spend some time with Omega today…

The robot appeared behind him surprisingly quickly, wrenching aside the attendant’s computer to glower at her better. “I have seen others come in here and get headsets for free while bringing their own weapons, so you had better have a good explanation for why you refuse to give him one.”

“He’s got a sword,” she pointed out unhelpfully, “so he shouldn’t even need one. Headsets are only for people with projectile weapons, anyway.”

Omega’s fingers tightened on the counter until they made a noticeable scraping sound. The attendant winced and even the otherwise impassive Shadow’s ears twitched at the noise.

He lifted up his hand, revealing deep scratches in the stainless steel. “You should think about being fair and providing Shadow with a headset now. Before I become really irritated.”

“That’s- I shouldn’t have to make an exception, he isn’t going to be on the firing range!”

“He does and you should. My friend does not do well with the sound of gunfire, so he deserves to have one. Right. Now.” Omega insisted, glaring at her.

“Well, if he doesn’t like guns then he shouldn’t be here.” she said irritably. “I’m not giving him one. And that’s final.”

The robot turned away suddenly and stalked towards the door. “Then I refuse to spend one moment longer in this building. Congratulations on losing your establishment some money.”

Shadow followed his friend, feeling more than a little like he’d just experienced some sort of verbal whiplash. “Wait...what just happened?”

“I decided that this place is clearly not good enough to deserve our patronage. We can find somewhere else to spend our time.”

“But I thought this was the best place in the area- I don’t want to make you miss out…” Shadow said, feeling bad for his friend.

Omega put a heavy arm around Shadow’s shoulders. “Amenities mean nothing to me if the people there insist you suffer in the process.”

The hybrid leaned against his friend, grateful. “Thank you, Omega.”

(They did eventually find a new- if slightly less upscale- place to go, and Omega managed to hit fifteen bulls-eyes in a row before being informed that they didn’t quite have the money for prizes there. Shadow enjoyed being able to use his sword, and he got significantly more respect on the way out of the building as opposed to the general confusion and mild derision he’d received on the way in...particularly after he defeated one of the most respected patrons in five minutes flat.)

…

Nearly a month and a half after Team Dark left Angel Island, Sonic set up a little party with some friends to celebrate their general success, as well as their slow steps to getting better, day by day. The team had been pretty reclusive and slightly paranoid as of late, so this was their first proper social outing in a long while.

Once they got over to Sonic’s house, all three members of Team Dark were immediately greeted with a shriek of “GUYS!”, followed by the sudden appearance of one cheerful pink hedgehog. “Rouge, Omega, Shadow, hi! How are you guys? Do you need anything?” Amy Rose asked, managing to simultaneously be cheerful, sympathetic, and doting in a way only she ever could.

“We’re doing better all the time, hon. Thank you.” Rouge answered kindly, while Omega waved at her and Shadow offered up a quiet nod. 

Amy wasn’t deterred by the latter’s behavior- she’d spent enough time with him to know that they were pretty good friends and that he was probably just a little overwhelmed, so she gave him his space. Blaze greeted them all politely as they entered the living room as well from her seat on the couch, but was quickly overshadowed by the other spacetime traveler present for the party.

Silver dashed over to the group, looking them all up and down worriedly. Upon seeing that they were mostly unharmed, albeit tired, he focused his attention on his personal hero and occasional mentor on Chaos techniques (Shadow).

“Are- are you going to be okay?” he asked worriedly, hovering (both literally and figuratively) around the other hedgehog. “Silly question, sorry, I just, if you’re not okay then I’m here if you need-”

“Silver.” Shadow cut the psychic off, but in a gentle manner. “I think I’ll be alright. If I’m ever not, though, I’ll keep your offer in mind. Thank you.”

“Okay.” He sighed, his nervous energy dissipating. It was replaced by a smile almost instantly, though, as he added, “Okay! I’m just so glad you guys managed to stop G.U.N. and everything. And that you’re alright now!”

Shadow offered him a small smile. “So am I.”

Soon after, Omega hurried down to Tails’s workshop with a shout of “What have you been working on? I need to see everything right now” and Rouge busied herself with scaring the living daylights out of Knuckles by sneaking up on him from behind. Meanwhile, Sonic stepped into Silver and Shadow’s conversation, at ease with both of them and enjoying the party. “You got some food yet?” he asked the hybrid, smiling warmly at him.

“No…?” Shadow said cautiously.

“Oh, man! There’s so much, you’ve gotta try everything!” Sonic exclaimed, dragging Shadow into the kitchen with one hand while Silver did the same with the other.

Moments later, he found himself with a plate filled with every kind of food available in the kitchen, from french fries to mini-sandwiches to cupcakes. Shadow startled slightly upon realizing that everybody else seemed to have brought several nice foods, and all his team had thought to bring was a bottle or two of soda. “I apologize for our lack of food-” he began, feeling somehow as though he should have done better, but Sonic silenced him quickly.

“Dude, no way! We’re having this party for you guys anyway because of all the stressful work you went through!”

Silver chimed in quickly. “We didn’t ask you guys to bring food because we didn’t want you to worry- you’ve done more than enough work for a long time.”

Shadow, in response, quickly shoved a mini-sandwich into his mouth to keep himself from saying anything too emotional.

Later, as they all settled down to watch the pilot episode of an old but well-known TV show, the hybrid found himself squeezed in between Rouge on one side, still flirting with Knuckles (punctuated by the occasional check-in on Shadow) and Sonic on the other side, in a surprisingly intense argument with Blaze about whether or not this show, Nebula Expedition: The Following Age, was better than the original.

Omega, meanwhile, was trying his best not to utterly crush the beanbag chair on the floor he’d been given after the couch had nearly tipped over the moment he sat down. Tails was leaned against him, while Amy, Blaze and Silver shared the other sofa.

Suddenly, Sonic turned to him, his expression intense and serious. “Shadow. This is the most important question you’re gonna answer all week. Which show is better: The Following Age or the original?”

The hybrid shook his head, a smile appearing on his face despite his best attempts to ignore it. It was crazy to think that he’d gone from the most important question of the week being “Am I going to be captured by G.U.N. and imprisoned?” to “Which show is better?”, and he couldn’t help but allow a laugh to escape him. It was just a quick little snicker, but it was enough for Sonic’s eyes to widen and for him to grin. 

“What’s that all about?” he asked, half joking and half serious, leaning his shoulder on Shadow’s. “You think this question’s a joke? Your answer’s really important here, y’know!”

“Well, for your information…” the hybrid began.

Sonic leaned in a little closer. “Yeah?”

“I like Asteroid Battle the best. Only the originals, though.”

The hero gave a cry of dismay and flopped back against the couch, throwing his hands up in the air. “Asteroid Battle? Asteroid Battle?? That wasn’t even an option!” he cried. “It’s not even in the same franchise, for Chaos’ sake!”

“Too bad.” Shadow replied smugly, folding his arms and still smiling. “Because that’s the one I like best.”

Sonic smacked him on the arm and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, too bad to both you and Blaze, because it’s my TV and I get to pick the show.”

Shadow wasn’t the least bit bothered about that as he settled in to watch, surrounded by his friends and safe as he could be. This atmosphere- of cheer and kindness and laughter- this was what he’d wanted to be able to enjoy all along.

He wasn’t entirely there yet- and maybe he would never be able to know the freedom that came when people didn’t carry the memories he did. But in the end, he couldn’t say that he regretted that burden too greatly. Even through all the bad, he had enough good in this world that it was all worth the struggle in the end, if he got to be here, now, in this place with the people he cared for most.

Shadow met Rouge’s eyes briefly, and then Omega’s, hoping that the words he couldn’t say right now would be understood.

Thank you both so much. For being there for me, through the good times and the bad. For being happy with me and sad with me. For standing by me when I decided to take on the largest military organization in the world, and afterwards as well. Just...thank you.

For everything.

[pointnumbersixteen]

A Head Cannon Biography and Character Analysis and of the Captain, Part 6: the Havers Question That I Still Don’t Answer Very Well, But I Tried My Best and That’s What Counts

That gets us finally to the analysis of the relationship between the Captain and Havers, as shown in Reddy Weddy.

From the first scene in the episode we get a lot:  Cap is obviously in love with Havers, that’s half the point of the episode. Cap is also so incredibly unsubtle with his attractions that Havers can’t have missed it. There’s probably no one in the Captain’s command who missed it, honestly. But what Havers might be thinking or feeling about this is almost more interesting than what the Captain, who is more or less an emotional open book, is thinking, because it’s impossible to tell for sure what Havers’ intentions are.

You can tell Havers is nervous to tell the Captain that he’s leaving. He probably doesn’t think Cap’s going to take it well, and considering how well Cap’s been shown taking things not going his way (not well at all, that is), he’s probably right to be a little nervous about it.

Notably, military courtesy dictates that Havers should have informed his commander that he wanted to put in for a transfer BEFORE doing so. The fact that he doesn’t do so, and in fact waits so long after the fact- not telling the Captain about it until he can piggy back it onto the distraction of the Fall of France, when Cap’s in a relatively upbeat mood due to the possibility of getting to join the fight- that the transfer request is nearly approved, says that he knew or at least suspected that Cap would object and perhaps try to stop him and didn’t want to give him the opportunity to do so.

I think the whole “get in the fight” thing he gives as an excuse for requesting the transfer is a lie. He looks like he feels guilty saying it, and there’s nothing about the way he presents himself that says he’s the sort that’s longing to go out and kill some Germans. I read him as having a sort of gentle, sweet, good humored and conciliatory personality. Not a single word or action he gives in the episode says he’s the kind of guy who joined out of some sort of thirst for adventure or blood lust or whatever. I think he’s saying the lie that he most thinks the Captain would believe, as the Captain clearly desperately wants to be in the fight himself. He also looks like he feels bad when he leaves at the end of the scene, probably because the Captain looks so obviously sad.

The big question is what exactly is going on underneath their relationship dynamic? The Captain’s feelings for Havers are impossible to miss, but does Havers feel them back? I don’t have a conclusive answer to that question, but two possibilities strike me.

 Both of those possibilities have one thing in common, though: whether Havers had feelings for the Captain or not, he did not want the Captain to admit his own feelings to him. I think in the second scene, in Cap’s office, it was the Captain’s intention to admit his feelings to Havers. And after years of repression and knowing the potential consequences for his actions, the fact that he was at least giving it serious consideration says a lot about just how much the Captain liked Havers.

But... when Havers comes in, he tells the Captain he’s leaving that night (and given how quick that was, it occurs to me that it’s possible Havers didn’t tell the Captain about his transfer request until he’d received the answer on it, possibly at the same time the Fall of France message came, but only told the Captain he’d put in the request in the first scene, and waited until that afternoon to say it was approved, to try to give him a bit of time to get used to the idea and lessen the blow a little- or alternatively, to let him think he still had time to stop Havers when he didn’t). And then when the Captain tries to make the conversation the least bit personal, with the ‘I’ll miss you, Havers,’ Havers’ smile wanes and Cap walks it back, correcting it to a ‘we’ll miss you’ with a safe het-masc sports reference for added camouflage. He tries again to broach the topic as Havers is going out the door, ‘I say, Havers,’ but Havers, who usually has nothing but gentle smiles for the Captain, looks entirely unreceptive, and Cap blinks, gives himself the tinniest little sad headshake, and then walks that back, too, saying that it’s a shame they won’t be able to finish the operation together. Only then, once it’s clear that the Captain isn’t going to say anything that would have been deemed inappropriate for the time does he get that smile. (And Havers did have a really nice smile.) (And also, Ben Willbond and Peter Sandys-Clarke do an excellent job in these two scenes saying things with their little facial expressions that their characters for various reasons aren’t able to.)

It’s also notable Havers starts with ‘I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir,’ and I don’t think it was an accidentally awkward bit of speech, I think he meant it and that he meant it as a hint to the Captain that he couldn’t continue on like that, with the open infatuation and dependence on him.

 But: were the Captain’s feelings returned by Havers or not?

Option 1: I think unlike most of Cap’s command, Havers actually did like and respect him. Havers seems like a kind man, the sort that would view Cap’s oddities as harmless eccentricities rather than causes for derision, and he was patient and gentle with Cap’s probably much-battered ego, and maybe Cap misinterpreted that rarity as his feelings possibly being returned.

If he didn’t return Cap’s feelings… in this case, I think Havers would actually be leaving to protect the Captain, with the knowledge that the longer he stayed, the more likely it would be that Cap would get to the point where he was too unsubtle to ignore, and liable to be reported by one of their subordinates that clearly weren’t thrilled by the Captain’s command in order to get rid of him, in which case there would be an investigation, and if he let it go long enough that the Captain admitted his feelings to Havers and Havers was asked about it during the investigation, he’d be stuck between the rock and the hard place. Denying it would be lying to a superior officer and given the Captain’s lack of subtlety, place suspicion on Havers possibly returning the Captain’s interests, and telling the truth would end up with the Captain chucked out of the army in disgrace and possibly placed in jail. Leaving the Captain was ultimately for the Captain’s own good.

I think this last part can be backed up with the fact that, after all, if Havers didn’t like or want to protect Cap, he could have let that scenario play out, stick around until it became so obvious that someone else reported the Captain or he’d report the Captain himself, and if it got to the feelings confession state, he could have happily told command that the Captain had propositioned him and then been rid of him, and probably get a much more competent CO in exchange, maybe even a promotion to that position himself.  

 Option 2: for those in favor of thwarted gay romance, rather than unrequited gay crushes, it’s also entirely possible that Havers was gay and did like the Captain back, but considered the battle front a safer option than actually letting Cap confess his feelings and having a relationship with him. Again, the penalty for that if they were caught- and they likely would have been caught, as Cap is the least subtle person in existence about his crushes- would be being chucked out of the military, followed by two years hard labor and/or chemical castration. This in turn would quite probably lead to social death and economic ruin, as ‘spent two years in prison turning big rocks into little rocks as punishment for homosexual acts’ isn’t the sort of thing to put on your CV and expect to be hired in a difficult post-war economy. At least not in the 1940s.

And he couldn’t just let Cap confess his feelings and then tell him he liked him back but that there couldn’t be a relationship between them, because one, that would probably crush Cap, and two, I can’t see Cap letting it go at that. He’s never been shown to easily give up on what he wants- carrying on with Operation-Get-Rid-of-Allison long after the others gave up interest in it, for instance- and if he let his feelings about Havers out of the box, I think he’d have trouble putting them back in- and it’s likely his attempts to convince Havers they could make it work would just make everything more obvious and worse.  

 The second option actually makes me sadder, because it would have put the potential for happiness almost but not quite within Cap’s reach.

 Either way, whether he returned them or not, I think Havers ultimately left in order to protect the Captain (and at least to a certain extent himself) from the societal consequences of his own feelings.

 As for the mysterious ‘William’ envelope: were they actually the plans or were they a love letter? I’ve read some debate whether William was Havers’ first name or William really was the name of their project, but why not both? (It’s even entirely possible that Cap named the project after Havers in yet another incredibly unsubtle gesture of his affection, as a few people have mentioned.) I think that the envelope really was the plans, though. It was a pretty full envelope. I think if Cap had worked up the nerve to write a love letter, it would have been more likely to be a love note, after decades of repressing his feelings, and from the bulk of that envelope, that would have to have been more of a love novella.

I think it was the plans, but Cap was looking at it so hard and pondering it so hard, because Havers’ first name on an envelope gave him the idea that even if Havers was leaving, he didn’t necessarily have to lose him, if he confessed his feelings and Havers responded positively, they could at least maintain a correspondence and then when the war was done there would be other options for them having a real relationship. My guess- just head cannon at the moment- is that was his intention. But again, when he tried to go for it with the ‘I’ll miss you’ and it wasn’t well received, he got cold feet.

When Cap tosses the envelope in with the bomb and buries it looking somewhat regretful, the regret is at not having confessed his feelings, and not being able to have that correspondence accordingly.

 I personally head cannon Havers dies in North Africa and Cap strongly regrets not trying to force him to stay or ever telling him how he feels because of, but that’s mostly just my imagination being cruel. He could have lived through it and just never contacted the Captain again. I like the death bit for two reasons, though. Havers being alive at the end of the war might have given the Captain a little hope for the future, for one (and if you haven’t guessed yet, guys, this isn’t going to end well). A big reason though is because the actor who plays Havers, Peter Sandys-Clarke, is the grandson of Lieutenant Willward Sandys-Clarke, who died fighting on the North African front in WWII. LT Sandys-Clarke was awarded the Victoria Cross for his action, which is the highest decoration for military valor you can be awarded in the UK. I’m just going to quote his citation wholesale, as it’s so impressive:

“During an attack on Guiriat el Atach, in Tunisia, on 23rd April, 1943, Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke's company gained their objective, but were counter-attacked and almost wiped out, he alone surviving of the officers. Although wounded, he gathered together a composite platoon and attacked the position again. The platoon was held up by heavy fire from a machine-gun post, which Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke tackled single-handed and knocked out. After personally dealing in the same way with two more machine-guns posts, he led his platoon to the objective. While they were consolidating there, they came under fire from two sniper posts; without hesitation he again advanced single-handed, and was killed within a few feet of the enemy. His quick grasp of the situation and his brilliant leadership undoubtedly restored the situation, while his outstanding bravery and tenacious devotion to duty were beyond praise.”

I think of it as a bit of homage to the actor’s grandfather, having Havers dying gallantly. It couldn’t have happened in quite the same way, of course, because LT Sandys-Clarke was infantry and Havers was artillery, but I like to think he did something heroic before his exit.

 As a final note from Reddy Weddy: on the subject of burying the bomb, it really is a shame Havers didn’t stick around to help Cap dispose of it, because Havers seemed to have better sense than the Captain and probably would have done something saner than just burying it in the backyard, where anyone could have saw him doing it from a window and dug it up later, or accidentally set it off doing something else later, not knowing it was there. Cap didn’t seem to notify anyone that he had buried a secret bomb prototype in that spot, either, as the military likely would have removed it before returning the house to the Buttons if he had.

The only worse options I can think of for bomb disposal are just chucking it out with the rubbish or locking it in a closet like his sexuality (my poor boy). if he still needed it, he should have either had it locked up in a vault only he knew the combination to, or sent it on to one of those secure military warehouses that existed in droves in those days and if he didn’t need it anymore, he should have burned the plans and then taken it out to an empty field away from the house and done a controlled demolition on it. Or if it was a situation somewhere in between, he could have kept the plans in a vault and destroyed the prototype. But my son, my poor semi-incompetent son, he just buries everything in the back yard.

 Stay tuned for the final part, our downer ending, encompassing both the end of the war and the end of Cap’s life, when I get around to finishing writing it. I’ve passed the 10,000 word mark for the entire analysis, though, so that’s something.  

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

About Time [G.W] - Part 1

pairing: George Weasley x OC

series description: On an unexpected night out, George meets the love of his life. And then suddenly loses her. What lengths will he go to in order to find her?

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa (let me know if you want to be added!)

series masterlist

X

“Fred, why are we doing this? It’s utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh come on now, it’s an experience!”

“I’d hardly consider eating in the dark an experience,” George scoffed. He was flabbergasted when Fred signed them up for this “blind” dating experience. Fred never had trouble meeting women at the bar, but he kept saying he needed a change of pace.

“You never know what tonight might lead to Georgie. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate,” Fred said as he raised his eyebrows. They walked into the chic restaurant where the lobby was dimly lit. As they checked in, the host explained that all the waiters in the restaurant were blind. All part of the “experience.” One of the waiters requested they grab onto his shoulder and a few moments later they were escorted down the stairs and behind a black curtain into complete darkness. As they walked back, the waiter explained that the idea behind the dining experience is that the total darkness enhances the other senses, creating a truly unique dining experience. As they got to table, he added that the darkness cultivates an environment to truly connect with people.

“I hate this already,” George said.

“Shh…” Fred said, as he kicked George under the table.. It was then George noticed there was movement next to them. Their dates had arrived.

“Hello ladies. I’m Fred and this here’s George.” Fred greeted.

“Oh well hello,” a voice said, “I’m Angelina.”

“Hi, I’m Molly,” said the person sitting next to George. She had a soft and earnest voice with an American accent.

“Nice to meet you, Molly’s my mother’s name actually,” George responded.

“Oh…does it…suit her?” she asked.

“I reckon it does. Although, she’s a bit sturdy so Bernard might have been a better fit.”

She laughed lightly and said, “Okay.” After a momentary pause she asked, “So have you ever been here before?”

“I haven’t.”

“Me neither. To be honest, I’m not completely sold on this concept yet. I genuinely like to be able to see my food and the people I’m eating with.”

“Exactly. Fred had twist my arm to even get me here.”

“Glad that we’re in the same boat. Not that I’m not excited to meet you or anything…” she added. “Oh, something just touched my elbow,” she whispered.

“That wasn’t me,” George quickly said.

“Well that just makes it worse! If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

“It wasn’t me…because I’m touching something else,” Fred stated.

“Yes, and you’ll stop that right away, thank you,” Angelina responded.

A waiter approached and began filling the empty glasses. George found the glass in front of him and took a big swing before realizing that the glasses had been filled with wine and he choked slightly.

“You okay there?” Molly asked him.

“That is not water,” he said. She giggled as she took a more reasonable sip from her wine glass.

“You might be onto something there. Maybe we should just get drunk,” She whispered.

George smiled and said, “Cheers to that.” He held up his glass and within seconds he felt her glass lightly tap his, which was impressive considering the complete darkness.

“So, girls, be honest. Who is more beautiful?” Fred asked. George knew he was joking, but he was partially concerned the girls wouldn’t pick up on his subtleties.

“Oh, I am,” Angelina said.

“She is,” Molly added.

“Excellent!” Fred beamed. George tried not to roll his eyes and luckily Molly interrupted his thoughts.

“So George, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

“My brother and I own a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.”

“Oh no way! I walk past that shop everyday. And what made you start that?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. At school we were always coming up with inventions for pranks and we quickly realized that we could make money doing what we loved.”

“That’s amazing. And I’m assuming you went to Hogwarts?”

“You would be correct. Now what’s your story? Ilvermorny and then how’d you get here?”

“Yes, I was a Thunderbird at Ilvermorny and once I finished school I wanted to do something different, explore a little. So I moved to London and worked some odd jobs for a while and now I’m an editor at the Daily Prophet.”

“Ah, if you’re responsible for fact checking Rita Skeeter, I think you should pursue another career path.”

“Very funny,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “My area is much less controversial. I’m a sports editor.”

George’s ears perked up at that. “What’s your team?” he asked.

“Kenmare. I have family in Ireland so I was born and raised a Kestrals fan. And let me guess, you follow the…Chudley Cannons?” she said, throwing out a blind guess.

George chuckled, “Puddlemere United. Although your instincts are good, my younger brother is obsessed with the Cannons.”

“Puddlemere…that’s respectable. They’re having a good year. Been to any matches yet?”

“I’ve been meaning to, but haven’t gotten to it this season. Too busy with the shop.”

“You should go if you get the chance. They are unbelievable to watch. The Chasers are just so in sync, it’s mesmerizing.”

“Did you play at all?” he asked.

“I was a Keeper. I miss being out on the pitch. Just something about the buzz that was in the air and having your whole house out there cheering for you. No better feeling.”

George smiled, thinking about the days he spent playing Quidditch for Gryffindor. She perfectly described what it was like to play and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed the crowd calling his name whenever he took out an opponent with a bludger.

“Fred and I were Beaters. It seems like those were the best years of my life.”

“Oh don’t tell me you peaked in school. Just when I thought I had met someone interesting.”

George thought carefully about his response. “I’m happy with my life, but we’re adults now. There was something about being younger, having your whole life ahead of you and not having to worry about paying bills and making a living. I miss the simpler times.”

“I can understand that. I do miss sneaking fire whiskey into the dorms. It’s not as fun when you can just go and buy it.” He smiled at her statement, remembering his own teenage shenanigans.

“You would’ve had fun with us at Hogwarts.”

“You don’t strike me as a troublemaker, George,” she said.

He chuckled and replied, “That’s because I’m on my best behavior tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun,” Molly flirted.

Suddenly, George felt himself get nervous. He hadn’t been on a proper date in a while and he wasn’t sure how to act or what to say. He felt tense instead of his usual carefree self. He realized that he might actually like this girl.

“So…what kind of music do you like?” she asked.

“I mostly listen to rock. Recently it’s been a lot of the Weird Sisters.”

“Oh I love the Weird Sisters!” she exclaimed. “I see them every time they come to London.”

“They’re great live. They played at one of our balls in school and it was incredible.”

“That sounds amazing,” she beamed. There was movement near them as the waiter placed what George assumed was the main course in front of them.

“Looks great,” he said. Molly laughed a genuine laugh as opposed to a polite chuckle and George felt butterflies at the sound of it. He never thought he could be so attracted to a voice. Something about her seemed special. The four of them ate and sounds of silverware filled the air as they did.

“I’m still not completely sold on this experience, but I will say this meal has been delicious,” she spoke. George was racking his brain for a response that might induce some conversation when Molly added, “The company hasn’t been too bad either.”

Before he could respond, Angelina said, “I’m going to run to the loo. Mol, will you join me?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting down her silverware. George was grateful for a few minutes to drum up some conversation topics as their dates vacated the table.

“How’s it going?” Fred asked him.

“Good…she seems great. I’m just rubbish at dates.”

“Well don’t sweat it. I’m going to invite Angelina back to our place after this. Maybe Molly will come too.”

“Is it really going that well over there?”

“I mean I’m not gonna marry the girl, but we’re getting along well enough.”

“Does it bother you that you don’t know what she looks like?” George asked.

“Sure, but I’ve never been one to shy away from risk.” George shook his head. Fred and George were on completely different wavelengths when it came to women. Fred was never concerned with commitment and was always living in the moment. But George was the opposite. He didn’t want to waste time on someone if it wasn’t going to turn into something meaningful.

Molly and Angelina returned to the table just as the dessert course was placed in front of them.

“I need to know…is the washroom pitch black as well?” he asked.

Molly giggled and said, “Now that would’ve solidified my opinion of this restaurant concept.”

They ate in silence for a moment when Molly asked, “So what’s your family like?”

“Big. I have five brothers and a sister.”

“Wow, and where do you fall in that mix?”

“In the middle. Fred and I are twins and then there are three brothers older than us and a younger brother and sister.”

“I’m sure you had fun growing up with such a big family.”

“I don’t think I always appreciated it when I was growing up, but now I love having such a big family.”

“That’s awesome.”

“And what about you?”

“I have two younger sisters. We grew up pretty close so it is tough to be so far from them.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

“Since the holidays. I always come home for Christmas and usually my family will come out for a visit at some point in the spring or summer.”

“Do you ever think about moving back home?”

She paused for a moment, “No, I don’t think so. It seems like this is where I’m meant to be.”

George had finished off the glass of wine in front of him and he realized the waiter had cleared all the plates and their visionless meal was ending. He took a deep breath, wondering where this night would take them. He just wanted to see her. He wanted to look into her eyes and confirm there was a true connection between them. They all stood up from the table and Molly and George walked out as a pair toward the lobby, with Fred and Angelina in their wake.

It was quiet as George racked his brain for what to say. He couldn’t recall feeling this nervous around someone he barely knew. As they reached the curtain, he stopped her in an attempt to express his feelings. He didn’t want her thinking he was just interested in her based on her looks.

“Molly, I…erm…I just wanted to-“

“Oh George it’s okay, you don’t have to do this. I can tell when someone’s not interested in me. But thank you for making this dinner bearable.”

Before he could protest, Angelina came whizzing by in a huff. “Come on Molly,” she said grabbing Molly’s arm and leading her through the curtain. George just stood there frozen when he noticed Fred by his side.

“Well, read that one wrong,” he said.

“What the hell happened?” George asked.

“I may have whispered some sexually suggestive things to her that she did not take very well. How’d things go with you?”

“I dunno. I thought it was going well, but I may not have made a good impression.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then go get her!” George followed his advice and slid through the curtain, excited to see Molly for the first time.

But she wasn’t there. George walked through the front door, hoping she might be outside, but the street was empty. He hung his head and kicked himself for the way he let things transpire.

“She’s gone,” George said as Fred walked through the door.

“Ah rotten luck mate. Sorry to hear it. Shall we go for a pint?”

“I think I’ll just head home,” he said. Fred nodded and they walked down the street a bit before apparating back home.

X

George couldn’t sleep that night. He kept thinking that he had missed out on something special. He replayed every minute of that night in his head, thinking about how he should’ve been more engaged in the conversation and flirted with her more. George certainly knew how to flirt and he could not figure out why he froze up with Molly.

Eventually he got up and moved to the kitchen to pour a fire whiskey. He needed something to take the edge off and numb the feeling of regret. He tried to forget about this girl but the more he did, the more he convinced himself that if he just saw her, he would know. And it wasn’t just about physical attraction, although that was certainly a part of it. He just needed to see her. The mystery was driving him crazy.

After his second glass of fire whiskey, he started to think about how he could make his hope a reality. He considered visiting the Daily Prophet and trying to find her there, but that didn’t quite feel right. He could write a letter and suggest that they meet up, but the suspense of waiting on a response would kill him. Then it suddenly hit him.

He ran into the room and started fumbling through a junk drawer, looking for one thing in particular. He started throwing aside Extendable Ears and miscellaneous Skiving Snackboxes before he finally found it. All the rummaging seemed to have woken Fred because a moment later his voice came from the doorway.

“What are you doing?” he looked half asleep, but still concerned.

“I couldn’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Molly. I just need to see her.”

“Well it seems a bit late for that now, eh?”

“No, it’s not,” George said holding up the thin gold chain that held a spinning hourglass on the end.

“Mate, that’s a terrible idea. Time isn’t to be meddled with.”

He put the time turner around his neck. “I can do this. I won’t interact with anyone. I’ll just stand outside and have a smoke while she walks out. No conversation, no nothing.”

Fred let out a deep sigh, knowing this was a losing battle. “Just don’t be stupid. And don’t get caught.” With that, he spun the time turner four times and closed his eyes. He immediately disapparated to the restaurant and hid in the alley way across the street. It was only a few moments until Angelina and Molly would leave the restaurant. George considered his options and thought it was best to stay hidden, he didn’t want to have an awkward run in with his past self.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only a few minutes) when the front door opened. A dark skinned woman with long braids was leading the charge, pulling the arm of another woman. She had fair skin, covered in freckles and deep brown hair that hit just below her shoulders. She was petite, probably around 5’3” and very slender. But the most striking thing about her was her smile. He heard their voices and immediately recognized the American accent that belonged to the freckled woman. Angelina was explaining what had just happened and Molly stood there, reacting with a new facial expression after every sentence. And then she laughed and George felt his heart stop. She was the one. It seemed crazy for him to think that considering he had just met her, but he knew. He watched the two of them walk down the cobblestone street as he tried to commit every detail of Molly to memory. Next came the tricky part, finding her.