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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

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A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,�� she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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psychosistr · 5 years

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The Third Caballero- Chapter 2

Summary: Donald and the other caballeros leave the mansion for the night to get some sleep, but have to rush back when an old enemy from Scrooge’s past puts their family in danger.

Notes: Well, first chapter got to be fluff, so now we get to have some (probably unnecessary but still fun to write) magic action-adventure scenes.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

The party began to wind down as the night wore on, some who lived in the area or who were staying in hotels nearby heading home for the evening. By the time it was almost midnight, only Scrooge, Della and her boys, Donald, Panchito, José, and the last few of the servants who were tasked with cleaning up the mess from the party remained in the vacation house.

Throughout the night, Donald had kept two secrets from everyone else at the party- the truth about him quitting the navy, which he and the others kept simply by not telling anyone, and the gift that Scrooge had given him, which he kept by simply hiding the locket under his shirt. He would proudly show it off to José and Panchito later, but, for now, his closest friends and family were having a pleasant evening as they counted down the minutes to the official day of Christmas.

“Well,” Della said with a yawn and a stretch while getting to her feet and holding two armfuls of snoozing ducklings. “I think it’s time for these little guys to get some rest.”

“You as well, lass.” Scrooge commented, looking physically and mentally exhausted from dealing with the large multitude of people who would be back in the morning for more celebrations. “You three spending the night as well?” He asked while looking at the trio of feathered friends.

“Nah, we’re gonna go get some sleep on the houseboat.” Donald yawned as he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. “See you guys in the morning.”

“Night, guys!” Della called softly but with a teasing tone as she headed for the staircase. “Try to actually get some sleep!”

Donald flustered and shook a fist at her in warning. “Why you-!”

José laughed and grabbed onto his friend’s arm with one hand, tipping his hat politely to Della. “Sonhos agradáveis, Della, Senhor Scrooge.”

Panchito chuckled as well and took his novio’s other arm while waving to the other two ducks. “Buenas noches, my friends!”

“A little more than friends by now, I’d say..” Della commented with a wink and a tongue stuck out briefly before ascending the steps with her small flock nestled in her arms.

Donald blushed more under his feathers, but allowed José and Panchito to guide him by the arms out of the mansion. “I dunno who’s gonna be the death of me first- her, or you guys…”

“It will be a close call indeed.” José joked while Panchito opened the door for them.

“She does have a head start on us by a few years.” Panchito added, the three amigos heading for the docks and their future home.

As they made their way to the boat and the others left in the mansion prepared for bed or finished their cleaning and headed home, everyone failed to take notice of a shadowy figure creeping into the building through one of the back doors left unlocked as the servants took out the last of the trash…

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

Donald lounged on the deck of the houseboat in a comfortably large hammock, his two dearest friends in the world nestled comfortably on either side of him as they watched the multitude of fireworks being set off in the sky from different people in the city to officially celebrate it being Christmas Day. It was a pretty comforting sight, to see so many colors and shapes among the normally dark sky- the stars were not usually visible around this time of the year due to the many small light-trees set up around town (not to mention the large one in the middle of town).

Donald gave a quiet yawn and let his head fall back against someone’s shoulder (Panchito’s, most likely, as he was the tallest and always ended up being the one they laid on somewhat, but he never minded). The weather was cool but not cold at all, even with the breeze coming off of the water, and it ended up being tempered by the warm feather-covered arms wrapped around him on either side.

“Y’know..” He began before being briefly stopped by another yawn. “I think this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Mhmm.” José hummed in reply, his own eyes nearly closed as he turned to lie on his side and wrap both arms around Donald. “Sim eu também.”

“¡Igual que aquí!” Panchito said with a bright smile, still the most energetic of the three, even in such a relaxing position. “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen you and your family- even your tío Scrooge seemed less grumpy.” He chuckled quietly at his own comment, not wanting to disturb the duck on his shoulder that was just starting to doze off. He had every intention of joining his compañeros in a minute or two, when a brief flash of color in the direction of the vacation house caught his eyes. “Hm?” He looked at it curiously before gently shaking Donald with one hand. “Donald, did your tío put Christmas lights up in the house?”

Donald searched his barely awake mind for an answer. “I don’t think so..he only allows those outside or on the tree…barely..” He rubbed his eyes and turned his head to look towards the vacation house as well. “Why?”

Panchito pointed at the house with a small frown. “Because I don’t remember there being purple lights that flashed like that when we went upstairs.”

Donald sat up more to see it properly, inadvertently waking José fully in the process. “Huh?” Donald observed the windows for a moment before he saw what Panchito was talking about.

There were indeed flashes of purple light coming from upstairs. That was pretty odd since there weren’t any decorations up there, only the bedrooms and some offices or studies, and purple wasn’t exactly a Christmas co-

Then, without warning, one of the windows suddenly shattered from the inside with the glass spraying outwards.

And then he saw fire-orange lights dancing through the halls and his blood ran cold.

“!!!!” He let out a startled squawk and scrambled out of the hammock, sprinting from the boat and down the docks towards the house. “Della! Boys! Uncle Scrooge!”

“Donald!” Panchito called as he ran after him, José close behind.

“Be careful, meus amigos.” The green parrot called as he caught up to the rooster and the duck in stride, adjusting his grip on his umbrella in preparation for the worst case scenario. “We do not know what is happening. Prepare yourselves and be ready for anything.”

The other two nodded in agreement, none of them strangers to dangerous enemies and unexpected threats at this point in their lives.

They reached the door and Donald tried the large double doors, but they wouldn’t budge, even with Donald pulling on them with all of his might. A brief shimmer of dark purple and black energy flashing across the door and its handles gave them a pretty good idea as to WHY they wouldn’t open.

“I hope your tío won’t charge me for this.” Panchito said while drawing one of his pistols from its holster.

Taking aim at the door, he fired off several shots, the other two backing away in case of ricochet. “!!!”

Panchito finished firing and lifted his gun back up, blowing some smoke away from the mouth of the barrel. The trio looked at the shots he’d fired- a glowing red perfect circle around the doors’ handles that broke away when he poked it with one finger, allowing the doors to swing open freely as the energy around them was disrupted.

“Good work, Panchito!” José complimented the rooster and gave him a pat on the shoulder while they ran inside.

The interior was even worse than they expected: There were clear signs of a struggle with several holes having been blown in the walls, various furniture destroyed, and a general feeling of devastation and upheaval around the entire area. There were flames slowly licking away at the stair case as they crept closer from the upper level. Then, most alarmingly, were the odd, shadowy figures walking about the main room.

Upon noticing their entrance, the shadows- for that is what they seemed to be, living shadows- all turned to look at the Three Caballeros with dark glares. They rushed at the trio, their intent to attack more than clear thanks to their raised claws and glowing purple eyes.

Panchito was about to draw his other gun and open fire, when José stepped out in front of both him and Donald. “Vá embora, espíritos das trevas!” He called while raising his umbrella in front of himself.

A dark energy mixed with hints of green swirled along José’s arm before surging into the umbrella. This caused the umbrella to pop open right at the instant the shadow-creatures attacked, a barrier of black energy rimmed with a green fire spreading out from the edges of the umbrella to shield himself and his companheiros.

As the first wave of shadows touched the barrier, they hissed and dissolved on contact- the black magic that created it strong enough to dispel the energy fueling them.

The rest of the shadows quickly realized what was going on and backed away to avoid the same fate. They began to retreat up the stairs, away from the barrier and, presumably, towards their master.

“Don’t let ‘em get away!” Donald shouted, giving chase once José dropped the barrier. With an angry squawk, Donald charged at a pair of shadows and, much to the shadows’ surprise, he grabbed them by their backs and slammed them into the floor- causing them to burst away as if they were made of smoke. “!!!!” Donald’s hands took on a faint blue glow as he quickly moved on to the next closest shadows, startling the creatures by being able to both touch AND harm them with his bare hands.

With Donald busy taking care of the shadows at the back of the pack, Panchito finally drew his second pistol and took aim at the ones closer to the front. Closing one eye to line up his shots, a red energy pulsed through the guns before gathering around the barrels. He then fired off several rounds at once- many more than should have been possible for the size of his guns- and bullets tinted with a red aura whizzed through the air with the accuracy of laser-guided missiles. After hitting their intended targets, the bullets exploded and the red energy burned the shadows away to nothing at all before Panchito picked new targets and repeated the process.

Never one to be outdone by his companions, José leapt into the air to join the fray. He landed right in the middle of the group, splitting it in half to make Donald and Panchito’s jobs easier. With a smirk, he wielded his umbrella as if it were a sword and slashed at the shadows with the skill of a trained knight (technically he was, but that was a story for another time), his weapon of choice taking on a green glow that helped slice the enemy to pieces. He alternated between long slashes that hit several targets at once and piercing thrusts that skewered the shadows without a trace of resistance.

Once the main room was clear of the dark creatures, the caballeros’ attention was redirected to the small explosions and smashing sounds coming from upstairs. They tried to climb the stairs, but walls of flame blocked their path.

“Do not worry, meus amigos.” José said while stepping in front of them once again. He closed his eyes and the same dark energy as before began to swirl around his arms before channeling into his umbrella. He began to dance to a rhythm that only he could hear, moving in intricate sways and spins that formed a pattern as he spoke. “Para dissipar as chamas do mal. Que nenhum dano chegue às pessoas que amo. Guie-nos ao nosso destino ileso.” He repeated the words a few times, the dark energy concentrating on the tip of his umbrella as he spun. To finish his spell, José first tapped the umbrella to the ground as he did a quick spin and drew a circle around himself. Then, without needing to open his eyes to see where they were, he raised the umbrella and drew a large circle in the air around first Donald and then Panchito. The circles flashed briefly with the dark color before enveloping the three birds in a translucent aura of the same shade. Opening his eyes, José stepped into the fire to demonstrate how the flames retreated from his body. “No flames will be able to touch us now.”

The other two caballeros grinned confidently and stepped into the fire as well, having full trust in their green companion.

“Thanks, José!” Donald said as they resumed their hurried pace up the stairs towards the upper-level of the mansion.

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

“Della! Uncle Scrooge!” He called out in a worried voice. He hoped they were okay! Someone strong enough to cause so much destruction and use black magic like that had to be someone REALLY dangerous. He already had a few possible enemies in mind-

“Donald!” He heard his sister call back to him from down the hall, followed by a loud crash.

“Della! Hold on!” Donald shouted while sprinting down the hall towards her voice.

He repeatedly begged in his mind for her and the boys to be okay. He swore, if there was even one feather out of place-!

“Donald! José! Sobre ti!” Panchito’s urgent tone of voice got Donald’s attention quick enough and he looked up just in time to see some sort of beast glaring down at them from the ceiling.

“What the-?!” Donald started, but the rest of his words turned into a startled squawk when the beast leapt down from its perch to attack them. “!!!!”

The trio dodged at the last minute, avoiding its landing and skidding a couple feet further away from it. When it landed, they finally got a good look at the creature: It was another shadowy being made of darkness, but much larger than the others. It was more like a gigantic animalistic monster with several constantly shifting limbs and eyes that would randomly open all along its body. To complete the horrifying visage, when a cluster of its eyes on the front of what may be considered its “head” looked at them, its “face” began to split apart as if it was ripping the shadowy surface of its “skin” apart until it opened wide enough to reveal a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

It bared its teeth with a snarl, the only warning it gave before charging at the group of startled birds.

Just like back downstairs, the green parrot leapt in front of his friends and raised his umbrella defensively. “Desaparecer, criatura da escuridão!” He yelled at the beast, the dark energy traveling down his arm and into the umbrella before bursting out to form a shield around them again. Unlike last time, however, the creature did not dissolve on impact with the barrier and, instead, it began beating it repeatedly with its large limbs. José winced slightly at the strain maintaining the barrier was putting on him. “An escape plan would be most appreciated right now!”

Donald took a quick look around the wide hallway, searching for anything they could use to defeat or at least hold off the monster long enough to escape. Then, he spotted it- the perfect weapon!

“Panchito!” He shouted to the rooster over the sounds of the beast’s roaring and the fire crackling around them. When he had the other man’s attention, he pointed at one of the decorative pillars along the walls. “Let’s bring the house down!”

Panchito grinned, understanding Donald’s plan perfectly. “Entiendo, but, remember- if your uncle asks, it was your idea!” He shot at the base and the top of the pillar repeatedly, José having caught on as well and opened a few holes in the barrier for him to aim through.

Once the pillar had enough cracks in it, Donald slipped out of the opening José made in their shield and took a flying leap at the column. Blue energy charging into his hands, he slammed his fist into the pillar, transferring some of the energy along the way, and sent it flying in the creature’s direction. It hit its target with a loud thud, the beast yelping as it was knocked over and, seemingly, unconscious for the moment.

Sighing in relief, José finally dropped the barrier, his arms feeling a bit stiff from the effort, but not too much worse for wear. “Brilliant work, meus amigos.” He spun his umbrella back around into a more comfortable grip and pointed it down the hall. “Now, we must hurry to Senhora Della!” The others nodded their agreement and started down the hall again.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get more than a few steps away when a rumbling sound filled the air. Panchito, being at the back of the group, looked up and noticed what was causing it. “¡Cuidado!” He shouted in an urgent tone and shoved the other two out of the way just in time.

Recovering from the shove after stumbling to the ground, José and Donald turned to see that the beast had split itself into several smaller versions of itself and some of them had crawled along the ceiling again. However, without the pillar supporting the area, it had begun to crumble.

Panchito had shoved José and Donald out of the way just in time to avoid the falling rubble from the ceiling, but it left him trapped on the other side with the creatures thanks to the steadily growing wall of debris.

“Panchito! Hold on!” Donald called out to his trapped friend as he readied a flurry of blows to try breaking the barrier of rubble between him and his dear friend.

“Don’t worry about me!” Panchito called back in reply before Donald could follow through on his actions. “I can handle these guys, no sweat!” They could hear the sound of his guns firing between sentences. “Just go! Get your sister and the boys out of here! I’ll catch up with you around the back or something!”

Donald frowned, feeling conflicted. He wanted to safe his sister and his nephews, but he also didn’t want to leave one of his beloved partners behind either! Darn it, why was this happening?!

“Donald.” José, ever the calm voice of reason among the three of them, put a reassuring hand on Donald’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Remember, meu querido, our Panchito is much stronger, and far more clever, than he appears. He can handle himself against such puny enemies.” He started to lightly pull Donald away from the wall of rubble, further enforcing the decision. “Besides, you should know that Panchito has never been one to break a promise before, sim?”

“Yeah..I know..” He finally relented, giving one last glance back at the debris blocking the sight of their loved one. José was right, as always- Panchito would be fine. For now, they had to help Della.

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

“Della?” Donald called to his sister again when they reached her room, having to shoulder-bump the door open as it was blocked by some flaming wreckage. “Della?!” He called again, worried when he didn’t receive an answer right away. When he finally got the door open, he was horrified to see why. “DELLA!” He shouted as he ran to his sister’s side.

Della was lying on the floor, looking battered and bruised with her clothes badly frayed and torn in several places. She had apparently thrown herself over her crying babies to shield them when part of the ceiling fell down around them, a good portion of her lower body covered in the wreckage. Her arms were braced against the ground around the boys, her elbows locked to support her weight and shield them without crushing them. Despite the defensive stance, however, she did not look well- her gaze was unfocused, hazy, as if she was hardly even conscious at all.

Donald began moving the debris off of his sister. José assisted where he could by using his magic to levitate some of the smaller pieces out of the way while also keeping the flames from reaching any of them. Once most of the rubble was gone, Donald got a good look at Della’s lower half and understood exactly WHY she seemed so out of it.

“Minha nossa!” José gasped at the state of Della’s left leg. With a shake of his head, he regained his composure. There would be time to fix everything later. For now, they needed to stabilize her and prevent her injuries from getting worse. “Donald,” He spoke with a firm tone of voice that instantly got the duck’s attention. “I will do what I can for her. In the meantime, look after the boys.”

“……” Donald took a deep breath to get his emotions under control before he moved to do what was asked of him. “Got it…”

Though it was left unsaid between them, the quiet, desperate “Save her” was clearly felt between the pair as Donald gathered the crying boys into his arms and José prepared himself for the proper rituals and incantations he would need. It would not be an easy task, but it was necessary to make sure they all made it out of this mess alive.

None of them could bear to lose any member of their family tonight…

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

After José was finished, Della looked a lot better. She was still missing a leg- it had been too crushed to salvage, even with magic- but the wound was sealed through the use of an enchanted bandage (really just the sleeve of José’s jacket he’d ripped off and said a chant over to stop the bleeding and numb the pain) and her vitality had been restored, giving her the strength needed to wake up.

“Ugh, my head..” She grumbled as she finally sat up, placing a hand on it and running it through her hair. “Feels like some dropped a house on me..”

“You are not far off, senhora.” José said while helping her keep her balance once she was upright.

“José?” She asked while looking at him curiously. Then, with a startled gasp, she seemed to recall what happened and frantically tried to stand up. “The kids-!!” Unfortunately, she seemed unaware of her new handicap and inevitably lost her balance.

Thankfully, José had good reflexes and was able to catch her before she fell. “Calm yourself, senhora. Your little ones are safe.” He gestured to the corner of the room where Donald was still sitting with the kids, a half-smile on his face as he made eye contact with his twin.

Della let out a relieved sigh, clearly glad that her children were okay. “Thanks, guys.” With José’s help, she managed to stand up, leaning heavily against him to compensate for her missing limb. “We have to hurry- Uncle Scrooge is fighting her all by himself, but I don’t know how long he can-!”

She was interrupted by the wall facing the backyard suddenly exploding inward. José held onto her with one arm and dove towards Donald and the boys, summoning the barrier using his umbrella in the other hand to protect them all from the mixture of debris and dark magic.

Through the smoke and dust, they could see a female figure silhouetted by the moonlight. “This is your last chance, Scroogie!” The figure’s voice called down to the ground below, its back turned to them for the moment. “Give it to me now, or your family tree will receive some much needed pruning!”

As the smoke and dust cleared enough and José dropped the shield, they saw who exactly the figure was, and it did nothing to assuage Donald’s fears. It was a female duck with oddly colored green feathers, terrifying yellow eyes, bobbed dark hair, a black outfit with a cape, and a staff with a purple gem on the end of it.

“Magica de Spell!” Donald glared at the sorceress while standing protectively in front of Della and the kids.

He’d had a few run-ins with her before due to his relationship to Scrooge, and not a single one of them was ever pleasant.

“You keep away from them, y’ blasted shadow puppeteer!” Scrooge yelled back at her as he climbed up the side of the building to give chase and protect his niece and grand-nephews.

“Ha! Or what? You’ll try to hit me with that pitiful cane of yours again?” She asked with a mocking laugh. The laugh stopped abruptly, however, when a different black object was suddenly resting on her shoulder. “?!”

“Would you prefer an umbrella over a cane, bruxa?” José questioned, now standing directly behind her rather than guarding Donald and Della from across the room as he had been a moment ago.

“What?!” She flew away from him as quickly as she could, clearly unnerved by his proximity. “How did you-?!”

“You are not the only one well-versed in black magic.” The parrot cut her off as he twirled his umbrella around two fingers before catching it in his palm and pointing it at her like a sword. As he did this seemingly simple action, dark energy raced from his arm to the tip of the umbrella- a clear demonstration as well as a warning. “My name is José Carioca. While I am not normally one to raise a hand against a woman, I am inclined to make an exception for those who threaten my family.” The energy flared up, some of it even flashing in his eyes to show how his calm tone of voice masked a righteous fury deep within.

Magica eyed him warily through his introduction before she regained her previous arrogant-confidence. “Oho. How intriguing. She glided across the ground, stopping a few feet away from him with a challenging smirk. “I will admit, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been challenged in the dark arts. Do you truly think that YOU could provide me with some form of a challenge?”

José returned the smirk with one of his own, ready to spring into battle at any second. “Considering I have dealt with demons and gods? Sim. I believe the odds are in my favor.”

There was a tense moment in which neither one of them moved.

Then, as if a starting gun was fired, they sprang into action at the same time.

Magica attacked first, swinging her staff in a wide arc in José’s direction and firing a wide beam of dark energy. José responded in turn with a vertical slash using his umbrella, effectively cutting the malicious darkness in the middle before it reached him so that it struck the walls behind him harmlessly (he was careful to make sure he continued to stand between her and Donald’s group so they would be protected too).

The sorceress seemed mildly impressed by the caballero’s strength and attacked again, this time by pointing her staff at him and summoning a circle of dark flames lined with a purple energy around him that began to slowly close in around the parrot.

In response, José brought his arms up, waving the umbrella in a circular motion before bringing it up over his head so that it popped open above him in a flash of green. The movement created a strong wind that blew out the flames and sent some of the ash right into Magica’s face, temporarily blinding her.

Moving to counterattack while he had the chance, José did a quick spin on one leg and fired off a round of spherical blasts from the tip of his umbrella. Magica wiped the ash from her eyes and spotted the attack at the last moment. She managed to dodge them, but soon found out that they were following her.

“Hm, not bad. You know some basics.” She commented as she raised her staff. With a flick of her wrist, shadowy hands rose up from the ground and grabbed onto the spheres tightly before crushing them completely. “But I have been at this far longer, and I can certainly handle some mere bokor.”

“…‘Bokor’?” José repeated back to her, his voice, for once, taking on a much darker, icier tone.

“Oh boy..” Donald mumbled, carefully helping Della walk and carry the boys closer to the bedroom’s door. He looked like he was preparing to run out with them if necessary. “You shouldn’t‘ve said that..”

Magica, who had her attention piqued by the other duck’s words, glanced at him curiously. “What is that supposed to mea-?” She got her answer in the form of an empowered umbrella striking the side of her face. “?!!” The sorceress was sent flying a few feet away and nearly crashed into a wall, summoning a group of shadows to catch her at the last moment and set her down in a standing position in front of the wall.

“A ‘bokor’?” José repeated again, glaring at the master of shadows in a rarely-seen scowl. He was smaller than Magica by quite a bit, but, for some reason, the way he looked at her made her feel as if SHE was the one being looked down upon. “I am no mere ‘bokor’, senhora.” He practically spat the last word, the title sounding condescending rather than respectful as it usually would. The dark energy lined with green began to gather around every part of José’s body in earnest, making him look as if he was one with the darkness. “I am a Babalorixá!!” He shouted, rage clear in his tone.

Magica had no time to react, finding herself too startled by the sudden surge of power in the other green bird. Before she was even aware of what was happening, Magica felt something cold wrapping around her. Looking down, she discovered that what looked to be a chain made of various symbols she half-recognized had formed from somewhere within the wall behind her and begun wrapping around her from the legs up. The chain felt like it was made of iron, but it both froze and burned wherever it touched her body, possibly due to the symbols that formed it.

“What is this?!” She demanded to know as she struggled to escape the chains.

“The iron chains of Ogum, an ally to the brave warriors and soldiers who fight for those they cherish.” José answered while bringing his hand forward and touching it to her bound arm. “And the chaotic shadow of Exu, the one to bring death and punishment to those deserving of his divine justice.” When his hand made contact with her, the darkness around him grew until it was all she could see. From within the void he’d created around them, she could see two other sets of eyes watching her in addition to José’s own. “When you are on good terms with several gods and have helped to save their worlds,” His voice echoed through the darkness, as if it was growing further away from her. “They are usually happy to answer your call.”

Magica let out a scream within the void as the chains tightened around her and dragged her further into the darkness.

From outside the bubble of darkness that José had created, Donald and Della watched apprehensively, waiting to see what would unfold.

“Soooo..” Della began before swallowing down a lump in her throat. “That’s why you told Uncle Scrooge not to say anything about your boyfriend’s magic..?”

Donald nodded, keeping a hand on his sister’s back to steady her without taking his eyes off of the darkness his friend had summoned. “He takes it VERY seriously.”

It was something that Panchito and Donald had both come to understand about José in the years they’d known him. At first, he had admitted to them that he was a casual practitioner and observer of his family’s traditions and knew a little bit of black magic through prayers and rituals, but that he didn’t take it too seriously or use the magic that often. However, after starting their adventures with an actual living, breathing goddess, he had begun to wonder how many other gods were real and started to take up his family’s customs in earnest. His efforts were rewarded fairly quickly- especially after one particularly harrowing journey resulted in him getting to MEET the gods his family prayed to. After that, he studied magic much more seriously and began incorporating it into his fighting style until he was at his current level. Every time he saw it in action, Donald was left in awe at how strong his beloved truly was.

“Curse me kilt!” The startled Scottish exclamation drew Donald’s attention to the hole in the wall that Magica had entered through earlier. He saw his uncle, looking a bit roughed up but not too much worse for wear, climbing up into the room. He was keeping a cautious eye on the ball of darkness, walking sideways to avoid losing track of the malicious sphere while still moving closer to his niece and nephew. “Is that one Magica’s or..?” He didn’t need to finish his question for Donald to know the rest of it.

“No, it’s okay. José took care of her.” Donald answered with a shake of his head.

“Hmh..I see..good thing the boy’s on our side…” His uncle mumbled the last part, still not looking 100% convinced that it was safe to be around something so dangerous. He couldn’t help it- black magic like that just put him on edge, no matter whom the user may be or what its intent was.

After only a few moments more, the dark energy finally dissipated and the green parrot emerged, looking far calmer than he had a few minutes ago. He hooked his umbrella around his elbow and used his hand to dust off his jacket slightly (a futile effort, honestly, but a necessary one, nonetheless).

He looked over to the duck family with his usual charming smile and bowed his head, removing his hat in the process for full effect. “The bruxa shall not bother you ever again. The shadows and flames should vanish momentarily, as well.”

Donald let out a relieved sigh, finally relaxing a little. “Thanks, Jo.” He was really glad that was over so quickly. Things could have gotten a lot worse than they had. Sure, what happened to Della’s leg was terrible, but there were plenty of ways to live without it and- And something just moved. “Huh?” Donald’s eyes snapped to the floor instantly and he saw the movement again, something dark squirming within José’s shadow. It began to rise up, moving within the green bird’s blind spot. “José! Look out!!”

Donald felt the world moving in slow motion around him in that moment: He tossed his sister and her kids to Scrooge for safety before trying to run towards his partner. He saw José start to turn and look behind himself the moment Donald’s warning reached his ears. He watched the shadow lurking behind José rise up and form a familiar silhouette before solidifying with a smirk. He felt his heart nearly stop when the sorceress, fully reformed now, took her staff and fired a purple bolt of magic that plunged straight through his beloved’s chest. He let out a cry of anger and desperation when he saw José’s legs cave and the strong, clever, brilliant man fall to his knees.

Time finally resumed properly when Donald launched himself at the laughing sorceress with a charged fist of blue energy, but she dodged out of the way at the last minute and floated out of his reach while sitting on her staff as if it were a broom.

“H…How…?” José rasped out, Donald ignoring her in favor of checking on his companion. He didn’t look good- the purple energy she shot into his chest was still there, forming an odd rune that seemed to be leaving José in a weakened state. “E-Exu..passed judgement on you..I felt it..!” Even getting out that much seemed difficult for him at the moment.

Magica smirked down at the pair on the floor below her, reveling in her own cleverness and small victory. “Indeed he did. I will give credit where it is due- you certainly caught me by surprise. One wrong move and I would have been finished for good.” Her smirk grew, a condescending laugh making her shoulders shake slightly. “But, really now, did you expect the Mistress of Darkness to be incapable of something as basic as a shadow clone?” She demonstrated this ability with a snap of her fingers, her own shadow transforming into a perfect duplicate of herself. “I simply switched places with it before I hit the wall. Not bad, hm?”

“Oh, not bad at all.” Her shadow replied with a matching smirk. “You are quite brilliant, Magica.”

“Why thank you, Magica.” She said back to her shadow and both shared a brief laugh before her shadow returned to its original state. “Now then,” She began while floating over to where Scrooge was standing with Della, holding out her hand expectantly. “You know what I want, Scroogie. Hand it over and I MIGHT let your family walk away- if I’m feeling generous, that is.” Her eyes narrowed in warning, one hand resting on her staff in preparation for an attack. “But don’t hold your breath.”

Scrooge stood protectively in front of Della and the boys. “I already told y’, y’ deaf harpy- I cannot give y’ what I don’ have!”

“Ha!” Magica scoffed and landed on the ground, pointing her staff at him threateningly. “That has got to be the worst bluff I’ve heard in my life! You would never let something so precious out of your sight!” Magical energy began to charge into the staff, the gem on the end glowing. “Fine, then. Have it your way. I’ll just pull it from your ashes!” Her face split in a maniacal smirk as the glow grew brighter, her attack nearing completion.

While the altercation between Scrooge and Magica was going on a few feet away, Donald prepared to rush at the sorceress and try punching her again. If he could just in close enough-!

“Donald..meu querido..” José’s calm but strained voice cut through his frantic thoughts as it always did when he was agitated. He looked down at the shorter caballero as he managed to stand up. “You need to get Della and the boys to safety. She cannot fight in her condition..and we both know that Magica is not above using the boys as hostages, given the chance.” He looked up at Donald with a serious expression on his face. “I have an idea..but you may not like it.” He looked pointedly across the room at something behind Della and Scrooge.

Donald followed his gaze to a series of paintings that had been knocked off of the wall or were barely hanging on. Many of them were burnt or damaged, but, behind Della, there was one that was still completely intact- a picture of the harbor that the three of them had been resting at not long ago.

“!!” Donald’s eyes widened briefly as he fully understood José’s plan. He shook his head vigorously and looked back to the parrot with a stern frown. “No way! I’m not gonna leave you!”

“It will not be for long.” José tried to reassure him. “Just long enough to get Della and her meninos to safety. I will leave it open for you to come right back and then we will finish her together. Agreed?” He held his hand out to Donald, making the agreement a promise- something that neither would ever break.

Donald stared at his hand for a brief moment before grasping it firmly. “Fine. Just don’t die on me, got it?”

“You as well, meu amado.” José said with one last squeeze to Donald’s hand before letting go.

The pair turned their attention back to Magica and the others just in time to see her charging her staff for a devastating attack. With no time left to think it over or come up with a different plan, Donald sprinted into action.

Blue energy gathered around him as he slammed into Magica. The force of it managed to send the shadow-mancer skidding away and caused her spell to misfire and disintegrate part of the ceiling. “What?!!”

Donald, still running, grabbed his uncle’s arm in one hand and picked up Della and the kids with the other. Without explaining what he was doing, Donald ran directly at the painting that was just barely hanging on the wall. “Hold on!”

Across the room, José gathered what little strength he had left and channeled it into his hands. “Por favor..trabalhe..!” Once he had as much as he could spare, he thrust his opened palms in the direction of the painting, sending sparkling lines straight at the picture.

The moment the odd sparkling energy made contact with the canvas, it seemed to change- rippling as if it were made of water. And, indeed, that seemed to almost be the case, because Donald reached his destination a fraction of a second after the change occurred and jumped straight into the once solid material with his family as easily as jumping into a swimming pool.

Seeing what happened, Magica let out an enraged shriek. “NO!” She tried to follow them, but a series of glowing iron bars formed a cage around the painting, barring her from entry.

“My apologies, senhora.” The accented voice called across the room with a calm (if slightly mocking and strained) tone. She turned her head to see the Brazilian parrot sitting back down to conserve his strength. He reached into his tattered jacket and pulled out a cigar box. “I am afraid I cannot let you follow them.” Calm as could be, José opened the box, pulled out a cigar, somehow cut off the end with his fingertips alone, and held it up to a nearby flame that was flickering only a few inches away from him to light it. “Donald will return em um momento..but, you will not be allowed to go after his family anymore.” He brought the cigar to his beak once it was hot enough and took a drag.

Magica glared as she stalked over to him, looming over the infuriatingly calm bird below her. “Do you intend to fight me alone until he returns? I could easily kill you in this state.”

José’s response was to calmly blow out a few smoke rings, not caring if they hit her in the face or not. “I am aware of this, and, no, I do not wish to face you. I know it would be suicide and, while I no longer fear death, I do not invite it, either. However..” He paused to take another drag of his cigar and blow out another ring of smoke. “I would advise against killing me if you value your life.”

“Oh?” Magica asked while crossing her arms. “And why, pray tell, is that? From what I’ve seen through my own eyes, as well as my minions’, you seemed to be the biggest threat. What chance would that puny duck or that trigger-happy chicken have against me?”

José smirked a bit, holding the cigar away from his mouth between two fingers. “You seem like a well-educated sorceress, senhora. Tell me…have you perhaps heard the legend of ‘The Three Caballeros’?”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The warriors who defeated the damned demon-sorcerer Felldrake? What of them?” Then, it clicked for her, and her eyes widened in mild surprise. “You..?”

“Indeed.” José confirmed her suspicions while tapping the ashes off of his cigar. “We are warriors of legend, linked by blood and bonded through magic. If one of us is in mortal peril, the other two are by his side in an instant. Together we have defeated gods and demons capable of bending reality itself to their wishes.” He brought the cigar to his beak once more, simply allowing it to rest in the corner as he spoke. “As I said, attempting to end my life would not end favorably for you, senhora- the other two caballeros would be here faster than you could blink and the resulting battle would most assuredly end in your defeat.” He smirked up at her. “So, strike me if you dare, bruxa.”

“Hm..I see..” Magica muttered thoughtfully with one hand coming up to rest under her beak, tapping her chin as she weighed her options. “I had no idea you three stooges were such legendary heroes..” She dropped her hand. “Fine. I won’t kill you.”

José prepared to take another drag from his cigar. “Glad to see you are capable of reason, senho-”

“But..” Magica interrupted him and José looked up to see that maniacal smirk back on her face once more. “There are some things worse than death.”

She pointed her staff at the rune she’d left on José’s chest earlier and the stone began to glow. The parrot could only stare with wide eyes as she cast her spell…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: So, just wanted to interject a little background regarding José’s magic for this story. I really liked the idea of José practicing candomblé, which is a traditional religion practiced in a few different countries, but most notably in Brazil. I liked this because 1.) The rituals and dances are always amazing to observe in person and they just felt like the right sort of energy for José. And 2.) When I was younger, one of my best friends that lived down the street from me was actually from Brazil and his family practiced candomblé.

In fact, I based the whole scene with José getting mad at Magica on something that happened with my friend’s mother (my friend had Donald’s reaction in that scenario xD): One time someone called her a caplata and it Pissed. Her. OFF. For those who don’t know, a caplata/bokor is a position more closely related to voodoo than candomblé- it’s used to refer to those who practice the darker sides of voodoo along with the better sides but more people focus on the negative aspects of it (it’s one of those titles that’s supposed to mean neutral but, due to bad history involving people being turned into “zombies”, it’s often seen as a negative thing to be called that unless you openly state you are one first).

Anyway, little me at the time hardly knew what religion was because I was raised in a non-religious but still superstitious house, so, while I didn’t always understand the terms or prayers, I understood that there were good and bad things to call people who practiced candomblé. When I was around 13 and had a better understanding on different religions and cultures, I asked her why it made her so mad (she was really nice and always answered my questions about her culture since I was genuinely curious, plus she was pretty much my pseudo-auntie by then so I was over at her house half the time, anyway).

She told me that it was a combination of being called something from a different faith (kinda like confusing Catholics and Christians sort of- same base, but different practices) AND being accused of consorting with dark spirits/gods. Looking back on it, she admitted that hitting the guy who called her that in the side of the head with her handbag was a bit excessive and she got embarrassed over it, but she also told me that what REALLY made her mad was the indirect accusation that the gods she prayed to were dark or evil. She (and everyone else in her family, for that matter) felt that the gods they prayed to (predominantly Exu and Ogum, depending on which side of the family you talked with, another influence I took for José’s magic) were kind ones who helped keep their loved ones safe and looked after them in times of need.

Sorry for the rambling, just felt like sharing. Here are the translation notes:

Sonhos agradáveis, - Pleasant dreams,

Buenas noches - Goodnight

Sim eu também. - Yeah, me too.

“¡Igual que aquí!” - "Same here!"

“Vá embora, espíritos das trevas!” - "Begone, spirits of darkness!"

Para dissipar as chamas do mal. Que nenhum dano chegue às pessoas que amo. Guie-nos ao nosso destino ileso. - Dispel the flames of evil. May no harm befall the people I love. Guide us to our destination unharmed.

Sobre ti! - Above you!

Desaparecer, criatura da escuridão! - Disappear, creature of darkness!

Entiendo - I get it

“¡Cuidado!” - "Watch out!"

“Minha nossa!” - "Oh my!"

bruxa - witch

meninos - boys

“Por favor..trabalhe..!” - "Please..work ..!"

#the three gay caballeros #three cabarellos #the three caballeros #three gay caballeros #three gay cabarellos #donald duck #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #donald/panchito/jose #ducktales #legend of the three caballeros #scrooge mcduck #della duck #magica de spell #The Third Caballero #Anastasia!AU

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arkus-rhapsode · 6 years

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Eden’s Zero Chapter 1 Review

Hey guys, now before I dive into this already longer than usual review, I did wanna take this time to mention something. Its been no secret that I turned on Mashima and FT pretty hardly after the end of FT and some of you may be aware that I was moderately active in the fanbase with putting out my reviews and such. That said some may liken that shift in mentality to me not liking how the story went and a common critique of fans is that when what they’re fans of doesn’t gel with what they want they wanna destroy it. As if the fan has ownership of the source of the fanaticism.

I admit there are times that I’ve question decisions on Hiro Mashima’s end and has posted rewrites, but that’s not me doing it out of a sense of ownership. I’m doing it because I have a standard. Being a fan of something and letting your disappointment get to you and fester into salty, bitchy purest is one thing, but being a person who’s judging what a series puts out and actually caring about the quality of what’s in the popular media is important. FT got negative reviews in its latter half because it was that bad. By the end of the series it was legit that bad. Now I don’t say that is someone who was in the fanbase and hated Hiro’s decisions cause they weren’t mine, I hated them because it was bad writing. I’m a reader with standards, as are all of you, and in the digestion of media we make distinctions between good and bad. I make this claim with more concrete surety now that I’ve been around longer and have reviewed more series than just FT, I think it be harder to believe if I made this case when I was just starting and all I was talking about at the time was FT.

Some of you might remember when I first started out on MHA, my second chapter I ever reviewed I had found it boring and mundane and to date its my least popular MHA review and I still stand by that assertion. I hold everything to the same standard, and that includes FT. The reason I write this is that while throughout this review I will mention comparison’s to FT’s first chapter (and yes, even ways Eden’s Zero improved on it), but I will be holding it to the same standard. So this entire review won’t be me holding a grudge against Hiro, but it will be me holding it to the same standard as I do everything I read. That out of the way lets dive in.

We open on a hill side and met our MC named Shiki. Beside him is the mecha demon from the cover page and what they see is a... dragon. Yeah, Hiro I thought you wanted this to be wholely original?

On the hand I actually like this scene in the sense robo demon here is actually encourging actual adventure (something FT lacked) and its kinda amazing listening to this demon looking guy talking about friendship, yet on the other hand, damnit Hiro. Is this the only thing how to write about? Like damn man.

We cut to the future where we see our main female Lucy-I mean Rebecca! Y’know I could make a Rebecca from One Piece joke, but she’s kinda already a bit of a decisivee figure so I’m not gonna bother.

I mean its okay. Its just castle theme park. Also Rebecca we find out is apparently a youtuber. Look if DBS can have GodTube then I can put up with Blue Cate (Aoneko) website. Also yeah Happy here, no sugar coating its just Happy. Also Rebecca here purposely made her skirt short. Just because you point out the sexualization in canon doesn’t make it better, ya still drew it, Hiro.

We see that the theme park is full of robots and each one acts as an assist in sending the guest through some kind of medieval simulator. And if anyone has seen Westworld you know where this is heading. To be fair I love worldbuilding so please, explore!

So we find out Rebecca’s dream is to have one million suscribers and now here’s where I gotta give props to Hiro because he actual made a dream for a character that doesn’t seem like it can be achieved a chapter from now. Granted this seems a bit hard to actually quantify, but this dream could potenially evolve into something of why she wants the suscribers and could be like Nami making the map of the world that getting video of unknown locations may actually be worth something to the general population.

We see that Rebecca chooses to go on a monster hunting quest and they encounter...

...This thing. Also it seems Rebecca’s character quirk is she really likes cats I guess? But this doesn’t last long as someone crashes down on mecha cat.

Okay that was kinda funny. I mean if this was FT would’ve actually gotten the panty shot so maybe Hiro has learned his lesson! Also note that wrench!

Oh god damnit Hiro. So this tarzan guy after acting like an animal is knocked out by Rebecca. Y’know it took about 60 chapters before Natsu got all up in Lucy’s chest, guess we’re cutting straight to the chase here.

Okay is joke with here just going be about here short skirt? Damning it with faint praise here, but at least he still hven’t flashed us them yet. Also Tarzan here is the only human on the island.

We get some scenes of Shiki here wanting to be friends with Rebecca cause she’s a human and Rebecca isn’t interested and she returns to the Granbell town where Shiki is there and the robots know who he is.

Shiki’s expressions and creepy advances really gives off this tinge of sci-fi horror, unfortunate Hiro doesn’t really go that route and we’ll get to it. Also that wizard looking robot from the color page is also here.

They then have a party where the robots all celebrate them having a costumer for the first time in so long they have a party being nice to Rebecca and lavishing her with stuff outside is robot that looks like Robin Hood and he reports to his boss this machine king.

Oh look, Hades if he was a robot.

We see Shiki trying to bond with Rebecca and it leads to him expressing he wants to leave the kingdom and see another country, but we also learn he’s in charge of fixing this and the robots are acting up lately. We find out that the one who was talking to Shiki and is his “Grandfather” was called the Demon King a robot designed for playing that role in the park.

Umm Rebecca... That’s being a dick. So you don’t like it, so you decide to cut it, cause it bothers you. You could’ve framed it like, “If he fixes you up then maybe he needs better vision” or “He’s been so nice to me, let me do something for him.” And what makes this worse s that Shiki is asleep, so she doesn’t even consult his feelings. Like seriously, that’s not being a good friend . But for contrivances sake I’m sure Shiki will wake up and love it, won’t he?

Huh? I was wrong instead we got shitty 80s comedy. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.

Y’know I said I’d give Hiro atleast two free fanservice moments for his first 3 chapters. He’s now used all of them up in a single chapter. Also Rebecca is tied to a stake while robots with torches surround her along with the machine king.

Shiki is also there and here’s something that did remind me of rave, the tightness of the first chapter. Everything seems to flow like one continuous story and doesn’t seem to do some dumb interlude like FTs first chapter did with that awkward moment where Lucy leaves Natsu and she’s just randomly in the park reading.

The King wants to use her ship to leave this world and we get som kind of motivation out of him.

Oh wow, for a first chapter villain that’s actually a really deep thing to unload. That as amusment park hosts they must’ve just been seen as pleasure tools and with no one around these robots who seem to be senstinent must’ve felt betrayed and...

Oooooor you cut out all moral ambiguity by just saying they have a virus. Sure. Trust me, this is where it gets stupid really stupid. And that’s the inconsistency.

So these robots I guess are like the ones from the Animatrix where they just kinda develop sentience out of nowhere. But unlike Animatrix it doesn’t seem to imply when they developed this sentience and that they began to think they were being abused.

Tired of Friendship already, it ain’t leaving.

So why do you hate humans? They abandoned you I guess, but there’s not other robot saying “hey our times were fun together” no everyone is like they left us to rot so we hate them. Not like Humans did anything legitimate bad. We actually see that at the end of the chapter that there is some sort of central battery on the park that all robots are hooked up to. You could make their reason for hating humans that. That even though they left these sentiment robots still had a little kingdom to themselves, but realized that its all just going to end one day and humans didn’t even bother to unplug them. They’re existence is literally knowing when they’ll die, imagine that as why they harbor negative emotions and maybe Shiki actually fixing things might’ve actually been prolonging their lives so maybe that be why they kept him around. This whole sentience things just feels like Hiro wanted to do a trope of crazy robots and ended using multiple to fit the whatever story purpose at the moment.

You do run the planet, dumbasses. This entire plane, apparently for hundreds of years, has been solely controlled by you. Maye this should be rephrased as, going to the place that built you to get revenge or as I spoiled with the battery we’ll take the ship to get more power for our kingdom?

Shiki doesn’t do anything and kinda lets the robots just wail on him as he found out all things in his life were a lie. Then Rebecca gives a friendship speech. A stupid stupid friendship speech.

You’re right, Rebecca! Too bad we didn’t see that. I’m serious we barely see memories of Shiki with any robot outside of the demon king and Michael so there’s no weight to this conflict. We only get the vague sense they raised hm, but there’s no moments of Shiki really laughingg and enjoying their company outside of the party with Rebecca which rather is made more for getting Shiki to like Rebecca for this moment.

Shiki remembers what his Grandpa the Demon King said and just blows them all away.

We see Shiki’s hand and apparently he has these marks indicating he has Ether gear. The power system of this series.

You’re sentiment! You have out grown your programming! You can choose to have a concept of friendship.

So they fight with shitty action scenes (If I can give Horikoshi a hard time for how he draws his fight choreography, then I sure as hell will give Hiro the once over.) Happy manages to save Rebecca and like Happy from early FT, he basically spots off exposition on powers.

So is it like a literal gear? Because Happy afterward destincties as the Gear of Gravity, so is it like a devil fruit? Is ether in all humans, but this specific gear brings it out in a certain way? If its internal then I guess its like the magic circuits from Fate? And then every of has their own unique variation like Nen? Like cause Happy gives it the distinction of Gravity it doesn’t seem like Shiki gives a reason why he has this power. I’m hoping \its like devil fruits, literal gears you implant and then it brings out your ether in a certain way.

Shiki punches out the machine king and cause a massive collapse.

Credit where credit is due, Hiro actually did build up the reveal of this power throughout the chapter and its actually really well done. Kinda reminds of something Oda would do with subtly building up a devil fruit power without revealing it. Like Crocodile drying out a flower but it isn’t stated his power is specifically sand.

They then flee when the other robots rally and Shiki takes Rebecca back to her ship.

This scene would actually be really nice if we actually saw more young shiki actually having fun with the machines and not a being a creeper with them.

Shiki and Rebecca take off and we see the universe.

Not gonna lie, that’s a really pretty shot. Like damn, I could get behind this.

It seems like worlds in this universe are basically like kingdom hearts worlds. They’re not real “worlds” so much as they are islands in space.

Sure, keep the mystery alive why don’t you, no that be too much.

Well great place to end the chapter. Little dry of a first story, but I definetly see that has room for improvment and there is something-Wait this isn’t the last page? But what else is there to talk about. There’s nothing left-

Oh for fuck sake. That’s right they were trying to send SHiki away. Because apparently these robots thought there was no way to restore battery life even if stayed.

Here’s a tip, ifyou really care, and had such a close bond, maybe tell him to leave? Tell SHiki the truth that you guys are tied to a battery and instead of Shiki vowing to leave for the stars so he can make 100 friends (I’m not kiding that’s his actual goal here). Then this would be an interesting goal.

But no, you have to act like human hating jackasses and shatter the boy’s entire reality, just so you he would go out and “change the universe”

This would be a really nice scene with a very nice amount of character development starting point, if we actually saw their past. All we know is they raised Shiki, but its never really seemed like they’re loving or caring or Shiki openly gets upset if one of them had a problem. Again the biggest flaw with this chapter is that it sacrifices seeing one potentially interesting relationship (Shiki and the robots) for another one (Rebecca).

So we end on this page which reveals that Shiki’s goal is to have a hundred friends. Not going to say something snarky I just realized this is the same motivation as Yuki from future diary. Like before the crazy yandere shit.

Post Chapter follow up:

Lets be positive and look at the good stuff in this chapter. The first thing great about this chapter is it improved upon two of the biggest failings in the first chapter FT. Goals established and world building. Not only does this set up force Hiro Mashima to actually world build (literally) but each person in the first chapter has a goal that doesn’t seem like it can be accomplished quickly. It means we can have investment in the story.

Another thing I’ll give is Shiki is an okay MC. He has more personality than Natsu, but not as much as Haru and this first chapter is about him. Its easy to understand that Lucy is often considered the MC of FT because it literally focuses on her for the story than Natsu. But this chapter had a healthy balance.

Also the power system at least seems to have some definition. Unlike how anyone could have magic yet normal people just don’t choose to use it like in FT. Ether Gear seems to be a powersource that only a select few can use. Now we need to see first if there are ways of combating it like technology or such so a non ether gear person can still fight.

It also has its own unique aesthetic. Ft is a pretty generic fantasy world. It doesn’t have the bleakness of bereserk or the Japanese aesthetic of naruto. You could say Black CLover, Fairy Tail, and Seven Deadly sins all had their first chapter happen in the same world and I’d have trouble arguing it.

Now on to the crappy stuff. This series suffers from the usual Mashima foibles such as the sexual harassment, the stupidly way it tries to justify and give all conflict happy ending, not actually bothering to have a situation drawn out ad built up too, etc. I mean for the first conflict of the chapter its a heavy one, these guys raised SHiki yet their own mentality is against humans so Shiki has to choose, but instead of actually answering that question, it turns out there was no real conflict and the machines were just faking.

As for my like for Shiki, I flat hate Rebecca. She is so pointless and useless. Look I will defend Lucy and she actually can d things. First chapter she saved Natsu by using aquarius. But Rebecca? She’s just all of the bad traits of post timeskip Lucy. She is used for pointless fanservice, does nothing contribute, and becomes a mouth piece for friendship.

Speaking of friendship as a concept and goal here, Hiro just rewrite what you mean. Have deeper meaning than friends for once. There is ways you could take the motivation “I want to make 100 friends” in a compelling way. Prehaps Shiki is going out to make his own world where he can make a happy place for people where they can laugh and cry in harmony. Like story telling wise its pretty weak.

Like me personally, I would’ve taken the first chapter like this, the robots are sentinet and they are nice to Shiki and Rebecca and they have genuine fun together. They gradually reveal that they are shutting down maybe one starts acting wonky and tries to hide it and maybe the machine king is the real bad guy. He has sentinece and hates humans and he wants to eliminate SHiki and Rebecca and that’s because they’re shutting down. The other robots say they don’t care they were abandoned, they were mad at first but Shiki showed them that why they loved catering to humans. King and Shiki fight and they all reveal they’re shutting down and Shiki cries he doesn’t want them to go. The robots say its inevitable and they don’t hpw to recharge the battery and Shiki vows to leave the planet and search for a power source to bring them all back. Then that’s shiki’s goal and it even can cause questions like “Is it worth all this for machines?” or “who designed them maybe we can figure out the right substance to power them up?”

or if Hiro wanted to go a more darker route. Have the machines have no sentience and literally be dolls for the King who turns out to be a human who stayed here on Granbell and made his own little kingdom. Make it a bit meta on how Shiki’s only friends were just hollow imitations of people who were only friends because that’s what their programming dictated and they can all be switched off. It be meta as critiquing Ft and how all the guild characters basically had no conflicts, all got along, and were just friends with no depth or reason.

This all highlights the issue with Hiro Mashima and that’s he is not a good a writer. Hiro is an incredibly talented person and can come up with incredibly unique ideas and looks, which is why his cover pages are the best things he puts out because its him free forming. But writing. He has a limited scope on that and stuff like sci-fi and fantasy can be very morally grey things. But Hiro doesn’t seem to understand tragedy in the sense that its tragic because a person fails or dies unsatisfied. But he only seems to know how to write painfully obvious concepts like “save the world” or “friendship” instead doing a concept like “what it is to be a hero” like MHA does which can have a variety of answers to it.

So what’s the final verdict? Well I actually am going to do something different than usual. I’m going to say what I though the quality was compared to FT and then to what I’d consider this work compared to anything else.

In comparison to FT, Eden’s Zero gets a Final verdict of 8/10

Improves on a lot of FT’s first chapter flaws

Created a more unique environment for a story

And actually has a lot tighter narrative

But in comparison to everything else...

Final Verdict: 5/10

Even if it wasn’t Hiro, its a pretty generic start (some names aren’t even all that inspired like Machine King, Demon King)

Potential to grow into something better is there

Nothing is outright offensive

Cool concept

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whomstdvelynt · 3 years

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minecraft music D: /pos

n e ways this is an appreciation post for minecraft and how much it's helped me over the past few years :)

beware: many misspellings ahead! i also talk about my mental health and shit so. nothing too bad, I hope, but better safe than sorry. :)

n e ways haha hello

minecraft music as a whole is something that makes me extremly happy, but is still something that gives me extremely nostalgia.

i remember lying in bed when my parents first spilt and staying up all night watching Minecraft videos on my kindle fire (specifically stampylongnose? longhead? i don't rmemeber which one it was at the time) because it was the only way I could cope with what I had going on at the time. sure I had friends at school to talk to, but none of them ever really stook around long enough for me to invite them over to the apartment my mom stayed at or my dads house (I was a Very Lonely Kid).

minecraft as a whole is something that brightened up my day and it gave me something to look forward to when got home from school. i didn't have any friends to play it with (I also believe this was back in 2016? idk.) but I had my brother and the only gaming console that had Minecraft was the x-box one that was set up in my room, so the two of us would play a lot. (one thing I remember in particular was playing Minecraft before the end update came out. it was crazy being a little kid and watching an entirely different dimension be added to the game. my brother and I played for weeks when that happened)

n e ways back to me talking about my parents divorce (awesome segue, I know). when it was really bad (aka at first. i was still in elementary school at the time too. it was crazy man.) i was like. really sad. no one wants their parents to break up, at least when they're in elementary school. minecraft was a distraction for me (and maybe my brother too. i honestly don't know if he even remembers that far back). and because i was that Gifted Kid (now expierienceing burnout </3) in elemeentary school, i didn't really have any homework? or i at least had so little that i had time to do it in the car or something. so i played Minecraft. as a distraction. yknow. as all kids who needed a distraction did back then.

another memory i have of Minecraft is playing on a survival woorld on mc pe in like. second grade? i think idk. but i lived in a swamp and had this really shitty cobblestome house that was really empty and too tall (the torches didnt reach the roof, i think i had a spider or two spwn in there once.) and i always would rush back inside the second it started getting too dark outside because second grade me was terrifyied of creepers. and then i rmemeber waking up the next morning and switching the difficulty from easy to peaceful bc i didnt want them blowing up anything. and then switching it back and getting annoyed when so many slimes spawned near my house.

another time i rmeeber it was new years and my mom and dad (this was before their divorce) took my brother and i over to one of theiir friends houses and me and their kid (and one of their friends) stayed up until almost 7am playing minecraft on his xbox360. i rmeber starting to build a house out of wood bc i liked building houses a lot. (i still do. im just better at it now B])

another time on new years (years later now, after my mom met her now fiance) i rmemeber going over to aanother one of their firneds house and playing on one of the free marketplace worlds i downloaded and then watching mithzan on my moms laptop on microsoft edge bc she hadnt downloaded google on there yet.

and then theres the past year or so? that ive been into the dsmp. (i got into it around the start of the prison arc, but not quiet) i've made so many (internet) friends (and by so many i mean like 5. max. most of my previous internet friends were from when i was into ut) and ive found so many cool fanarts and fics (i have over *checks bookmarks* um. laptop chrome doesnt give me a number but the last number i rmemeber it beinf on my phone was over 400+. i save fics to my google bookmarks bc im Like That) and they've genuinly made me happy. i know twitter (deragotory) discorse (deragotory) can get really bad (sometimes tumblr too. don't act like you all are innocent here smh smh /lh), but i think joining this fandom has genuinely been one of the best choices ive made in a while.

there's still the old mcyts that still have a place in my heart (cough cough stampy cough cough dantdm cough cough captain sparkles (altho ig captain is getting more popular again? it's hard to tell, but i still watch his content)) and they always will. they've helped me thru rough patches in my life (as they probably have with many other people as well) and if i could tell them in person that they've saved me, then i would, no matter how awkward it would be for me to Speak To Anyone Ever (esspecially if theyre famous).

they mean a lot to me, as do new content creators, and the content the mc community as a whole makes. i'm truly happy with how far we've come as a whole. this game and it's community has saved my life. and i would like to thank the community for helping me. :)

#teehee.txt #minecraft #mcyt #no i did not make this post bc i had a ballad of a minecraft dog show up in my yt reccommended again idk what ur talking about #but i mean it when i say im happy i got into minecraft as a kid :)#long post

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silenceconsumes · 7 years

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Oh yeah...

Monday is definitely going to suck. I know, I know. You brought this upon yourself, and you're right I did. I should have been going to bed earlier and waking up earlier but instead I decided to shoot myself in the foot by going to bed when I normally am starting my morning route. That's on me one hundred percent. Doesn't change how much it is going to blow though. And I don't think anything I can do in the next two days is going to change that...

On the bright side though I have been making sure to get every workout in, to the full extent, and I've even gotten a few hours of time in with Derek and Shasta the last few nights so thats something right? Maybe I am making it hard to wake up come this work week but I am also taking care of my mental health to some extent by getting some friend time in. Because of that I'm going to go ahead and put one in the WIN column for me.

Today I also went and picked up my paycheck, and then promptly spent the mass majority of it on either bills, or groceries. I have a couple hundred bucks left which isn't much really (considering my paycheck was just over a grand and I still had some cash left over from last payday) but I did pay up my PO box for six months, paid just under half of my electric (which isn't due till the seventh of next month), as well as paid last months cable and internet bill. I also filled our freezer, and made a very sizable dent at filling both the cabinets and refridgerator so we shouldn't be worried about food for a while.

Tomorrow I need to pull out the meats that I bought and allow them to thaw out enough to seperate them into meal size portions that way they last longer, and that way we don't over eat. I also need to take out the trash and do the dishes (thank god for new sponges, I'm so happy). But at least I don't have to do laundry. I got that done tonight. So that's my plan of action. I might also work at finishing put away the christmas tree since it seems Dad won't actually follow through. At least I already took everything off though. Now I just need to finish breaking it down and put it in the box.

Short entry, but hey its something. At least I didn't fall asleep before writing it again haha.

Journal Entry #67 06:09, Saturday March 17 2018

For Friday March 16 2018

Will

#mental health day #workouts are going as planned #god I'm sore #actually gained weight?#but I weighed myself late at night #as opposed to the morning like normal #dont get discouraged #lot of errands today #bills #stocking the kitchen #laundry done #game plan for tomorrow #not really broke if your bills are paid #and you have food in the house

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roxxdafoxx · 5 years

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30 “red flags” part 2

16. When they gas light you.

“Any form of gas lighting no matter how small.

Also pre-blaming you for things they know will happen because of them. He’d tell me on vacation ‘that drink is too strong you’re just going to pass out later and we won’t be able to go out and do anything,’ but in reality it was him passing out from drinking at 9pm forcing us to stay in. Or saying ‘yeah I want to see the sunrise but you’re never going to get out of bed that early,’ yet I went and saw it and he slept until 2 hours later when I finally got him up.

When I realized it, I saw he was basically trying to make me give up on doing things so he could blame me for us not doing it, even though if I held up my end he wouldn’t hold up his. Between that and making me think my emotions were invalid when he’d upset me just made for a super manipulative relationship.”

—madguins

17. When they hide their finances from you.

“For me, the very first red flag was not communicating finances [we were married]. He would ‘give me’ a certain amount to spend, but never wanted me on his bank account. I had my own, but we had agreed on joining accounts—which is why I transferred my money to his since it had better interest rates/bank/etc. I had no access to my own money. It took him 6 months and a threaten of divorce to be put on the account. And then I saw it—he had lost ALL of our money by spending it on him damn self. I couldn’t do anything—I could even put food on the table or put gas in our cars.

The second red flag was when we adopted a puppy [this was after I began a finance boot camp with him]. The puppy would cry at night. Ex had a temper. I heard him storm into the living room, open the kennel, and shake the dog yelling ‘I will fucking SHOOT you if you don’t shut the FUCK up!’ I shot out of bed, grabbed the dog, told him he would do no such thing, and left to stay with a friend.

Another one was when we were play wrestling and he pinned me down so hard my arms started going numb. I told him to get off of me and then kneed him in the back. He punched my face. I was stunned and told him ‘didn’t your mother ever teach you not to hit a woman?’ “Nope, they’re fair game and you look like you can handle your own anyways.”

The immense guilt trip I received any time I did something for myself—driving over to a friend’s place for coffee, going on a weekend trip to the beach, going to my family’s…it was ridiculous.

There were other red flags as well, but these were the top three I could think of. It wasn’t until I told my Chain of Command some of these things that they sent me to victim advocacy. I had to be told that I was a victim of abuse. We, obviously, have since divorced and I am now happily re-married to someone who believes we are partners in life. Together, we balance each other out.”

—badgerfu

18. When they have an opinion about every single thing you do and every single person you talk to.

“The first red flag is the person having an opinion about every single thing you do and every single person you talk to, like they need to be hands on in all your dealings and activities like they are your parent or some shit. Normal people don’t want to coach your life, only fucked up people do.”

—shewshoe

19. When you tell someone else about what’s happening and they react with horror.

“When I told a coworker about things she reacted with horror. That’s the thing about abusive relationships, at least in my experience. They start off great and then slowly warp into something terrible and the abused person might not know.

I didn’t even notice what was happening to me until two years in. Looking back it blows my mind that I accepted the treatment but at the time it just seemed fine.

I was working at a coffee shop and while closing one day started chatting with a new co-worker—by this point I had been isolated from all my friends and I thought it was because I was a terrible person so was cautiously trying to make a new friend. We were drinking wine while we worked and started dishing about our men and her reaction to my ‘what happened on date night this past week’ story was horror.

It got me thinking and once I knew to look, all of the other red flags showed up.

This was also the same way I found out my parents were abusive. A friend in high school saw the bruises and cuts and when I told her I got in shit for losing a toy something she was like ‘ummmm…that is not a normal reaction to that.’”

—full-of-grace

20. When they keep casually dropping passive-aggressive comments during normal conversation.

“The casual passive-aggressive comments he would drop in normal conversation. Then the comments would become more direct, then mean, and finally just cruel. And once he saw that I would accept those, well, the floodgates of abuse just burst open.”

—scaredofmyownshadow

21. When they make you feel like shit about yourself.

“The need to question everything I did and every one I liked.

The constant need to make ME question them.

None of my pre-existing friends were ‘good to me’ in her eyes.

The need for my constant undivided attention every single waking hour.

Not being able to ‘trust me’ yet doing all of the things that made me ‘untrustworthy’ i.e., taking my phone to the toilet.

Making me feel SHIT about myself. Constantly. But also making me believe she was the only one who didn’t make me feel shit.”

—i_am_gud

22. When they always expect you to take their side, no matter how unreasonable they’re being.

“Like 3 weeks in, when he randomly started arguing with someone over some stupid shit, I sided with the other person who I thought was being reasonable. The PoS got furious at me, saying ‘I expect you to be on my side.’ Aghast and pissed, I walked away ignoring him. He suddenly started playing nice and sweet again. I should have never looked back at that point because he soon turned out to be a massively manipulative, immature, emotionally abusive piece of fucking scum. Ugh.”

—KissyKillerKitty

23. When they keep breaking up with you.

“I don’t know about the first, because it was all so gradual over the course of a few years. Things were fantastic in the beginning but the shifts caught me off guard. Also I was a young adult and have moved out of home for the first time. It was my first ‘real’ relationship and I was stupid and blind.

Some highlights:

• so clingy. Had to literally spend every minute together or else it would be a fight because ‘we are drifting apart’ (because I spent an afternoon reading a book) • telling me I wasn’t raised correctly, nit picking every little behavior, telling me that I was something he needed to ‘fix’ because I was so messed up. Using my anxiety and depression against me. • pressuring me to do drugs. • constant cheating accusations • not allowed to have friends. Could only be friends his friends. • picking fights with me over tiny things, escalating them to the point of making me cry and then ‘look how crazy you’re acting you bitch’ Fights would only end if I apologize and promise to do better. Even if I was not in the wrong. He just liked to exert that control. • he suddenly hated my family for no reason, me visiting them resulted in such huge fights and violence that I just avoided it. Despite the fact that my family lived five minutes away. • he was unemployed and a drug addict, but he’d get so angry with me for ‘choosing my job over him’ because I refused to skip work. • breaking up with me constantly, instantly retracting as soon as I’d agree. Lots of sobbing and begging to change on his end. this became an every other day occurrence toward the end. • refused condoms, no birth control because it ‘fucks with your body’ (like seriously, your cocaine addiction doesn’t though?) So yeah, obviously I got pregnant. Had no say in anything, including my child’s name. He also pressured me to do drugs while I was pregnant, but I never gave into that. • his addiction was my fault because I couldn’t stop him. Same with the drinking. He would get blackout drunk, pick fights with me and trash the house. Things escalated to physical abuse on almost a daily basis. • threatening to kill himself if I ever left. Eventually that graduated to threats of killing me and my son too.

There’s so much more but it’s stressful to write about even though it’s been over 8 years. I’m grateful to my son because even though he didn’t come through the best of circumstances, he gave me the strength to finally leave when he was born.”

—magnumthepi

24. When they start smothering you, even a little.

“So I once worked as a prison warden in a prison for men who had abused their s.o. During lunch breaks I used to read their court trials, the legal reasoning interest me. During one lunch break I said to a more experienced colleague –Well, from working here and reading about all these trials I’ve learnt the importance of telling my *daughter (she was in her early teens back then) to walk out after the first strike.* –No, said my colleague, you tell her to walk out when he starts to always pick her up from work. You tell her to walk out when she wants to go out with her friends and he insists on her staying at home by saying ” but honey, I had planned to make you dinner and then we can cuddle in the sofa and watch a movie. That’s where it begins. When the first strike hits she has been controlled for a long, long time.”

—Norman3

25. When they never have anything to say about any person of the opposite sex, but especially their exes.

“Two things made me uneasy and really stand out in retrospect.

He had nothing positive to say about any woman he had ever dated, or even met. All ex-girlfriends were ‘mentally ill’ and hateful. All his friend’s girlfriends/wives were mean and overbearing. He liked his mom, but no other women.

He isolated me from my friends. He kept saying how nice it was to stay in alone and kept asking me to break established plans with friends.”

—victorontonian

26. When they constantly harass you about all your friends of the opposite sex.

“Would absolutely fall apart when the idea of me drinking around women came up.

Would call me when I went out to check if I was OK.

Constantly asking what I thought about my friends who were girls.

Obviously she ended up cheating on me.”

—DAHGS

27. When they argue about every little thing.

“Expecting me to reply within a half hour and then subsequently giving me the silent treatment to ‘punish’ me for not replying. Then complain that I didn’t care enough to check in on her when she was ignoring me.

Also arguing at every little thing and then giving the silent treatment when I didn’t agree with her on something.

Expecting me to ‘accept her for who she is,’ the smoking, drinking mess of a person who was too lazy to work for her future and expected me to give her money for everything, then blaming everything that went wrong on her abusive father.

The best(?) of all, threatening suicide when I decided I had enough and was going to cut off the relationship. That was pretty traumatic too.

P.S. sorry if this isn’t completely relevant to the question.”

—GOverlord

28. When they ‘neg’ you.

“Negging. First sign of this, run away.”

—SlanginPie

29. When there’s a voice in your head telling you something is wrong.

“Not really answering the question, but after a while there was always a ‘voice’ in the back of my head telling me that what was going on was wrong. I’d just ignore it, or convince myself that it was normal almost automatically. People would tell me that she was being abusive and everything would ring vaguely true somehow but I’d just ignore it for a million reasons. Low self-esteem being one of them, feeling somehow responsible for what they did, being the another. It wasn’t until I one day realized that I was subconsciously making excuses for them in my head that I decided to get the fuck out of there, and even though I knew at that point that the relationship was not good for me, it was still the hardest decision ever.”

—picassos_left_nut

30. When their actions make you feel anything less than equal and loved.

“There are so many red flags and scenarios that could point to an abusive relationship, but it comes down to this: If your partner’s actions make you feel guilty, worthless, defensive or making excuses, or ANYTHING less than EQUAL and LOVED—you need to get out….especially if you find yourself making excuses again for why you can’t get out.”

—Matilda__Wormwood

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nephrondehydrator-blog · 6 years

Text

First 25% of short story

Original piece by R.D.

Winston was cruising down Crenshaw Boulevard thinking angrily about how he was sick of all the rotten heat and that he needed to buy a car with better a/c. He tried walking every chance he could get but still managed to maintain a weird paunch and a second chin that seemed permanently scrubbed with a thin layer of stubble. His burgundy off brand polo shirt had a big three piece white stain in the middle of it. There was one big stain, a smaller one, and a smallest one. It was like an island chain of cum. It had really come from a bowl of honey nut cheerios and milk he had been eating on his walk to work, but he invited people to speculate about whether or not he was a faggot and a slob.

This was the day Winston had been waiting for since he’d ordered the package six months ago. It was a rarefied product he’d been looking for, and he’d found it, but the salesman told him he’d have to wait. First the guys had to extract the honey from the Ugandan beehive, freeze it into a cube, cure it with chemicals, adulterate it, and crush it into powder. The result was Adhuru, a super powerful African designer drug that you snorted through the nose. Winston heard that the result was an out-of-body, multi-day psychedelic journey through a version of heaven or hell, depending on what kind of person you are.

Apparently the time dilation was intense and the journey felt like it took the user years to undergo, a strange, drug induced life extension. Winston had become obsessed with life extensions since he had started physically showing signs of aging around his early forties. It was finally clear that he wasn’t born with some special invincibility to the rules of biology, despite what he’d originally thought, but he was going to try and fight the passage of time with every thing in his arsenal.

And he had the Rube to help him, which meant he was a bit better off than even the richest and most intelligent of humans. The Rube, you see, had attained immortality and had been leading Winston along the Righteous Path to Infinite Control, which was the title of the Rube’s manifesto.

Plus he was willing to trip sit for Winston, which was a must when one did Adhuru. It was a certainty that the user would be out of commission for at least two days, usually three. Winston made sure Cynthia was staying at the house too, because the Rube tended to be a little unreliable. The safer, the better.

He finally saw the neon lit sign that marked the entrance to the post office locker room and nearly jumped out of his skin. This stuff would get you fucked out of your skull. He gingerly slid the key out of his pocket and, with shaking hands, approached his PO box, #123421, inserted the key and turned it. A small brown package tied with string was sitting on the inside. It looked like something out of a poem.

Winston pocketed it furtively and shuffled into the elevator and out of the building. He ripped off the brown paper and revealed a small clear doggy bag filled about an inch up from the bottom with a blue powder. Score. He tried to drive home as quickly as possible, swerving in and out of mid-day traffic. Once he got to the house up in the Hills he swerved the car into the garage frantically like a madman.

He dove into the door to his house and called out for Cynthia and the Rube to come up to his bedroom, which overlooked cliffs above the Pacific ocean surf. He collapsed comfortably into his plushy white bed and pulled the comforter over himself as Cynthia strutted over to the bed holding a large ovular mirror with gold handles.

Winston cracked up two huge lines of the crystalline powder. Cynthia pulled out a huge bowie knife and took a tiny little bump of the powder. She shivered a bit and then nodded at Winston. The three of them joined hands and muttered in crescendo: “antitha bududha nevari keparu, temami exploitus tormeemo dormamu!” Then Winston spoke.

“Goodbye friends. Please see to it that I stay safe. Thank you so much for making this happen.” He railed the two lines and patted his nose.

The old Ugandan shamans say that with Adhuru, if your soul is pure then you ascend into a kind of heaven. Apparently it’s different every time but the beginning is always the same. You begin to glow brightly white, in your own mind of course, as if an incandescent bulb were being gradually turned on inside of your body. You begin to vibrate with intensity and increasing frequency.

Slowly you ascend into the air as if crucified, like in the exorcist, and as you begin to vibrate faster and faster you blip out of corporeal existence, dissolved instantly with a loud “pop!” into an iridescent mist that blows away lazily in the wind or wafts to the ground and fizzles away naturally with a crackling noise and sparkles.

The same, they say, is true about Adhuru hell. Every experience is different, but the come up is always the same. This is what happened to Winston and it went about like this:

Winston had been sitting up on the bed under the blanket but he fell down on his back spreadeagled immediately after doing the lines of Adhuru. Almost instantly his nostrils began to tingle with intensity. He got excited because he interpreted it as a signal that he was going to light up and shoot into a few years of heavenly hedonistic bliss. That was, after all, the reason he had taken Adhuru in the first place. He wanted to live longer, but not in hell. No, he was expecting paradise, damn it all.

Instead he felt a skeleton’s hand tap him on the shoulder. He looked to his right, where the tap had come from, and a hand grabbed his skin tightly by the scruff of his neck from his left hand side. It pulled a disembodied translucent version of himself up into the top corner of the bedroom and held him there by the scruff of his neck like a baby Hamster. He could see his breathing, unconscious body lying on the white king-sized bed wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe. It was like something out of Calvin and Hobbes, he thought to himself in his state of profound mental disorientation.

From his position he saw his body start to change. It got older and older, faster and faster. First it rewound almost instantly back to infancy and aged with alarming speed, through adolescence, youth, and on through early adulthood. Once he caught up to middle age things hit a new gear. He saw his body grow to seventy, one hundred and twenty, five hundred, until finally he died after a millennium of bedridden aging. He wasn’t sure why he had survived for so long, but he decided to go with it.

By the time his body died, the Winston on the bed barely had any muscles or fat left on his body. What he did have left decayed quickly along with his eyes, organs, and hair. All that was left over at the end of the vision was the outline of a pointy skeleton covered by a decaying layer of epidermis. The epidermis began to grow holes and started to look like Swiss cheese. This was the point where Winston realized there was something wrong. He’d made a mistake. He felt like he was going to vomit up ghostly ectoplasm.

Then the hand that had been holding him in the air flicked him back into his decrepit body with a noticeable air of indifference to his comfort. It used just its pointer finger like it was flicking a marble or an annoying piece of dirt off its shoulders. He noticed his body flicker back into its natural and shape as he tumbled, end over end, back into his meat puppet. He felt a heavy thud as he re-entered his flesh, so heavy that it caused his body to fall through the bed into a deep, black void. Bright glowing green and blue tessellations followed his hands like tracers in the pitch blackness as he grasped for anything at all. He was tumbling, end over end towards a strange red dot that was far away and glowing with a brilliant light. Before he reached it, though, a gurney appeared below him, spotlit by an unknown source. The rolling gurney was sitting on top of what looked like a hand made out of psychedelic patterns, pulsing and changing colors ambiently every few seconds. Straps on the gurney seemed to magically lift themselves up and restrain him as he saw the fingers on the cosmic hand begin to close into a fist around him. Before long he was in a submarine like chamber made of psychedelic tessellations.

Then all of a sudden he was beneath florescent white lights, passing his field of vision, quickly, periodically with high frequency. Nurses that looked like aliens or maybe angels flocked around him as they pushed his bed down what seemed to be a hospital emergency room intake hallway. Perhaps the psychedelic hand had been a cosmic ambulance. The nurse’s faces had an interdimensional quality to them, morphing in color and shape as light hit them from different angles. They had no eyes or mouths and they looked like wooden artists’ models wearing old school white nurse outfits with red crosses in the centers of their hats. They all had three fingered hands that looked like they had octopus like suction cups on the fingertips.

He felt long IV needles being pushed into each of his main arteries, including the ones in his neck. Gradually he began to feel sleepy, as if he were being sedated. He knew now he was entering his first stage of hell. To attain enlightenment one must wake up, and the first thing that was happening during this trip was sedation, being put to sleep. He figured this was as good a sign as any that he was descending into a hellscape.

These journeys were always productive and necessary. Adhuru only revealed heaven to pure minds which did not have large flaws in need of immediate attention. Winston was flawed to the core.

“No sympathy for the devil.” Winston quoted one of his favorites, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” He braced himself for whatever and whoever was to come next as he felt himself drift off into a poisonous but undeniably pleasant state of sedation.

(to be continued)

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