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caxycreations · 7 months

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Okay, I've been nerd sniped, I'm sorry

NOTE: If you're going to reblog just to say "not reading that" or some other rude shit, DON'T. I've seen so many notifications of people just saying they couldn't be bothered to read it. I don't know if it's just that they don't see how incredibly rude and disheartening that is or if they know and don't care, but either way it really hurts to see, so please don't reblog if it's just to tell me you won't read it.

So let's go through the canonical likelihood they could each beat Goku. For the sake of keeping canon, we'll keep groups/pairs together if they would never reasonably be apart for something like this. Long post below the cut.

So first up are the ones I see that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Saiki K

Saiki is an omnipotent psychic/psionic with quite literally every single possible power out there. Now, this on its own isn't enough to beat Goku. Versatility doesn't mean everything, but Saiki is also powerful enough to rewrite the genetics and reality of everything within range, and his range is, so far, "Earth".

So this, on its own, would allow him to rewrite Goku's biology to make him Human. Bye bye zenkai boosts, bye bye Saiyan transformations. And Saiki, with his powers, has no trouble beating a Human of any caliber if he truly wanted to. And for those who ask "Why would he ever fight Goku?"

One simple reason: Goku would sense his immense power, and be excited for a fight. Goku is respectful enough to not force one if he's refused, but he's persistent enough to badger Saiki until he's given a chance. And Saiki, being Saiki, would simply take off one of his limiters, or both, and rewrite reality as such: "Being an alien isn't possible", thereby making it effective immediately that Goku must be lying/insane, and he is, in fact, Human. Easy win for Saiki.

And for those who would argue against this, bear in mind, the funniest way to beat Goku in this instance would be to simply make him weaker than Saiki, and Saiki is a gag character from a gag series, and it's already been shown in the world of Dragon Ball, and again in Dragon Ball Super, that Goku is incapable of defeating a gag character regardless of that characters canonical ability.

Saiki could win without gag character status, but even in the instance of Goku "beating" him, the gag would turn out to be that Saiki only pretended to get beaten, and is actually entirely unharmed because it was the easiest way to get Goku to leave him alone. Followed by a reveal that Goku will still show up now and then to ask for sparring matches, to drive the point home.

Popeye

Gag character. Would get beaten handily, crawl his way to spinach, and then be exactly as strong as he needs to be to take Goku down in however many hits is funniest.

Bugs Bunny

The gag character to end all gag characters. Someone on this hellsite once described Bugs as a "Trickster God who traps us in our own societal expectations" or some such. Like convincing Thanos to remove the Infinity Gauntlet by establishing a security checkpoint with a metal detector and shaming him into cooperating by telling him there's others waiting.

He could beat Goku in a billion ways, and each and every one of them would involve some shenanigan like Goku throwing a spirit bomb, Bugs showing up behind him holding it, saying "Ehhh, can you hold this for a second?" and as soon as Goku takes it and Bugs is off-screen, it would explode and Goku would be a pile of ashes with blinking eyes. Bugs would win because Bugs' gag is that...well, he simply can't be beaten.

The Warner Trio

Gag trio. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot would snark, sass, and sarcastic-joke their way into the scene, and they would spend the entire time poking fun at him, roasting his look, being unfazed by his attacks because "Nice laser show but we didn't bring our glowsticks." and just being too unbothered to care.

They would undoubtedly annoy Goku into admitting defeat simply to get away from them.

Road Runner

Gag character. Would force Goku to chase him, Goku would fire some blasts, chase him around, and inevitably be led right into the path of a blast he fired earlier to be disintegrated by it.

Pop Team Epic

I know nothing about this series except that it is a gag series. They are gag characters. That means Goku is inherently incapable of beating them.

ASDF Guy

Gag character. Could beat Goku with a simple "Hello, Mine-Turtle!" or "I like Trains."

Heart Diagram

Goku was literally killed by a heart virus in Future Trunks' timeline. This is one that has actually canonically already killed Goku.

Chowder

Gag character. Would likely be after S-Cells for some recipe and need to take Goku's as he's "The only Saiyan in this episode!" or some such, thereby ending the fight with a shot of Chowder wearing Goku's Gi for comedic effect while Dahl stirs raw Super Saiyan aura in a pot to hint that Chowder killed Goku for his S-Cells.

Force Ghost Trio

Gag versions of serious characters, and also ghosts. Goku is canonically unable to beat ghosts or gag characters, and these guys are both.

Those are the ones that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Now, let's go over the ones that could, potentially, be it likely or unlikely.

Kirby

Kirby is often considered a gag character, but he isn't. He has a very specific level of power, even if that level of power is "fuck you" levels of power. Kirby has beaten Gods, but so has Goku, even more often and with greater ease. However, Kirby has absorption and power-theft. Kirby could, potentially, absorb Goku (he isn't the brightest and Kirby has his unassuming appearance on his side) and take on his strongest form, including its powerup, and given Kirby in base form is likely more powerful than Goku in base form (Goku needed SSJ to scare Supreme Kai, Kirby beats Gods in base), it's possible Kirby would be more powerful than Goku with the same power up.

Kevin McCallister

Okay, hear me out.

Kevin is technically a gag character, BUT. He is not TRULY a gag character. He just happens to be a comedy character.

So he isn't guaranteed to win, but he could still possibly do so. How you ask?

Goku has been somewhat injured or lightly shaken by the following: planet-shattering attacks. Punches that rock the universe. Energy blasts so potent they would destroy entire galaxies.

Goku has been rendered inconsolable from the pain of the following: chest pain and a half-heartedly, boredly tossed pebble.

It is canon that when Goku and the other fighters in the series are expecting an attack or primed for battle, they are protected by their ki, like armor. It's how they're able to knock away attacks that would destroy planets, or put their "bare" hands on plasma energy that would normally burn the skin off you from a mile away let alone touching it.

This is why when Krillin threw the rock at Goku, it left him in agony and bruised him despite Goku being in Super Saiyan form at the time. This is why Chi-Chi is able to injure Goku regardless of how strong he gets.

So, how does this relate to Kevin being able to beat him? It's everything. It's critical information.

Kevin McCallister's entire M.O. is unexpected attacks. You open a door, you see a bucket fall, think it's over, turns out no, second bucket pulled by the first, second bucket is full of paint and open, you're blinded, you get your bearings, you take a step and feel cars, you smirk and step over them only to find marbles, you slip, you land on the cars which turn out to have been rigged to break easier to let loose a single thumbtack which is now firmly stuck in your back or butt. You bolt upright only to slam your head on a 2x4 that was rigged to hang down from a rope when you fell because your impact shook things enough to make it fall from a precarious perch above.

You get the idea. Every time you think it's safe to let your guard down, that's when the next wave hits. So you say "well he would stop letting his guard down" right? You fool. You know nothing of Goku. He would never put his guard UP. This is a human child, Goku can sense his pitiful power level. His strength? His speed? His ki? Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. A scouter wouldn't even register his power it's so low.

Goku never raises his guard to Chi-Chi, or to Bulma, or to Hercule. He does not raise his defense against normal, powerless, non-combative humans.

"BUT KEVIN IS COMBATIVE" No. He isn't. Goku can sense intent, power, and location. But Kevin isn't actively intending to hurt Goku. He's intending to protect himself and his home. He's not actively wanting to hurt Goku, he's just wanting Goku to leave. He doesn't have power to threaten Goku with, so Goku won't pick up on any threatening aura. And while Goku could simply instant transmission to Kevin and do what he will, we're not talking about how Goku could win, we're going over the fact Kevin could POSSIBLY win.

Enough injury and Goku is down for the count. Otherwise, Goku leaves to avoid further injury, and thereby admits defeat. Both cases, Kevin wins.

Shedinja

This one took me...quite a while. I had to do a lot of extra research for this. So, my immediate thought was Shedinja is a Ghost type, so ghost rules, right? Nah. Bug and Ghost type, and they are the physical shell left behind that has been reanimated. So they very much are physical beings, and given their ability to faint in the games and show they are capable of being physically damaged.

But There's a real case to be made for Shedinja beating Goku.

It can learn Ghost type moves, which operate on ghost-logic, and therefore are a canon weakness Goku is known to have. So things like Shadow Ball, Hex, Curse, and the like would all effect Goku regardless of Ki or form.

It also has access to Wonder Guard, which renders it "immune to all damage types that are not Super-Effective". For those unaware, we can actually attribute Typings to Goku's moves based on attributes and traits they share with Pokemon moves. His melee is, by nature, Fighting type, which Shedinja is immune to. In fact, Shedinja is immune to ALL attack types except Flying, Rock, Ghost, Dark, and Fire type moves, which are all Super Effective.

Goku's most common methods would actually fall under Fighting and Normal type attacks. "But his Ki blasts-" would be Normal type moves. You want proof?

Focus Energy is Normal Type. Quick Attack is Normal Type. Self Destruct is Normal Type. Techno Blast is Normal Type. Tera Blast is Normal Type. These are all energy based moves similar to ki blasts. Know what other energy based move is Normal Type? Hyperbeam. Which is almost identical to the Kamehameha and every other beam attack in DBZ.

Those few attacks Goku has that aren't going to be Normal Type will be Fighting Type.

Shedinja is Immune to all Normal and Fighting Type moves. Goku literally can not damage Shedinja, but Shedinja can damage Goku through Ghost Type moves. Shedinja can beat Goku. But why is it not "absolutely will" beat him? Because Goku can also transform his Ki and if he finds out Shedinja is vulnerable to fire, he can and will use that to his advantage.

That's who could potentially beat Goku. Here's who absolutely could not.

Saitama

I forgot to go over Saitama originally so here's the edit that features that analysis. Bear in mind I am saying this as someone who has seen Seasons 1 and 2 of the show AND is aware of some of the events of the manga.

A lot of reblogs over Saitama claim he is a gag character. But there is a case to be made that he is NOT. What is that case you ask? Well, for the sake of fairness, here is how I am handling gag characters: if their gag is in effect in 100% of all cases (such as looney tunes like Bugs or Road Runner) or if the gag is triggered in 100% of all cases (such as Saiki K or Chowder) then they are a True Gag Character and will insta-win.

However, if their gag has failed (such as Wario, or, yes, even Saitama) in ANY case, then it CAN fail again, and the fairest fight is one against two non-gag characters, so we can safely apply non-gag Saitama here since his gag has failed and Goku meets the conditions to cause it to fail again, which I'll explain.

So, first off, how does his gag fail? Well, his gag is that he kills everything instantly in one hit, unless he actively chooses not to. So we can safely say his gag fails if any of the following are true: he fails to instantly kill an enemy with a single hit while intending to do so, OR if he fails to kill an enemy with a serious hit intended to kill.

He meets both of these conditions. Boros survived for several seconds AFTER Saitama hit him with a Serious Punch. It was a single hit that intended to kill...But he didn't kill Boros INSTANTLY with it. Another example of his gag failing, if that doesn't satisfy, is Garou. Garou, in the manga, has survived MULTIPLE Serious Punches with intent to kill. This, on its own, is proof Saitama's Serious Punch does in fact have a limit to its output. It also proves his gag can, and does, fail against certain opponents.

So the next thing we need to look at is similarities between Garou and Boros to identify what they share that could possibly allow them to get around Saitama's gag, or to nullify it entirely. First similarity is that both are determined to have a good, satisfying fight. Boros crossed the stars seeking one, and Garou sought to become a true Monster powerful enough to force every hero, every do-gooder, to unite under one banner just to take him down. They both seek a battle to end all battles, even if Garou's intention is to end it in his favor, not simply enjoy the fight.

The second similarity is that they have incredibly unique circumstances, even by OPM standards. Garou is a man who has always felt love for the bad guy, he looks to the monsters as inspirations, as the misunderstood and the victimized by those claiming to be heroes. He's trained by an S-Class hero, and has developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of his dream. Very much a true foil to Saitama, who looked to heroes in comics as inspirations, as the righteous and unshakably moral, self-taught through and through and developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of HIS dream. Garou is, in this way, a reflection of Saitama, the Tails to Saitama's Heads, the dark to his light.

Boros on the other hand is an alien, forced to become strong by his homeworld's unforgiving conditions, developing a level of power necessary to survive and then some, and on realizing he was far too powerful for his own good, he sought purpose, meaning, and when he heard he may find a worthy opponent, he did everything he could to achieve that future, to realize his dream of facing a foe that would give him a true challenge.

So what are the similarities we can identify? Notably unique circumstances even by OPM standards, sharing strong similarities to Saitama's desires or dreams (Garou dreaming of becoming the greatest Monster vs Saitama dreaming of becoming the greatest Hero, Boros feeling lost in life and seeking a worthy foe vs Saitama feeling bored with living and wishing for the sensation of a real fight again), and the desire for a serious and ultimate battle.

Goku fits ALL of these conditions. He is an alien sent to Earth for his protection, grew up in hostile conditions (surviving on his own for most of his childhood, constant battles with Nation-level threats throughout his teen years, constant battles with world or universe-level threats throughout his adulthood), trained extensively until he was the best of the best, has the ultimate dream of a truly satisfying battle (a dream he routinely seeks out by facing down powerful foes), and being entirely bored with mundane life because there's absolutely no challenge to it, not to mention the fact he has the ultimate dream of becoming the strongest, something he shares with Saitama's pre-OPM self.

Since Goku fits ALL the conditions needed to make this battle exempt from the gag, we will NOT be considering it, as Saitama is not a True Gag Character, and Goku fitting conditions for nullifying it means we can assume actual power limits and such.

So let's look at feats of power. Saitama's Serious Side Hop technique allowed him to create AT LEAST 60 after-images (based on the manga panel) which, when compared with Sonic's 4, means Saitama was moving 15x faster than Sonic in that moment (bare minimum). An afterimage like that is created by moving at least 572mph, stopping in each position for at least 1/255th of a second (any less and the human eye can't pick up on it), so by moving from position A to B for 1/255th of a second and back to A, going 572mph between the two, you create the afterimage.

Sonic creates 4 simultaneously, meaning he needs to move to 3 positions and then back to starting position, or go from A to B, B to A, A to C, C to A, A to D, and repeat.

This means Sonic, to move into each of these positions in less than 1/255th of a second, would need to be moving ~4x faster than the speed for one afterimage. That puts him as moving at 2,228mph while creating those 4 afterimages. Given he is capable of Mach 5 speeds (he's said to be hypersonic) this feat is easy for him, as Mach 5 is 3,805mph. I assume, just as it's easier to move at top speed in a straight line than at sharp turns for a normal person, it's likely more difficult to create such consistent afterimages and so the difficulty that makes it his best attack is from the technique and reaction involved, not the speed itself.

In any case, if Saitama made at least 60 afterimages, putting him at 15x faster than Sonic's speed while creating 4, that puts Saitama's speed at 33,420mph just to account for the 60 we can count in the manga panel. This means 33,420 is the MINIMUM speed we can assume for Saitama's max ability. To be generous, given he wasn't winded after doing that and given he was able to react incredibly easily to the near-instant directional changes, I'll be kind and put his maximum speed at 10,000x this number.

That puts Saitama's speed at 334,200,000mph, or 49.8% the speed of light. We'll be kind again and say 50% the speed of light, round up that last .2%

So we have a speed value for Saitama. Now what about Goku? Well, let's look at Goku on Namek, for a moment. Base form Goku, at the start of his fight against Freeza. Goku, BEFORE his super saiyan transformation, was moving at 3.26 (we'll round down to 3) times the speed of light. How do I get this number? Buckle up, it's involved.

The Namekian ship Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan took to get to Namek made it from Earth to Jupiter in "seconds". That means less than a minute, so we'll say it took them 1 minute just to lowball it and to have a solid starting number. Jupiter, when the two planets are at their closest to each other (assuming shorter distance for slower speed, another lowball), is 365,000,000 miles from Earth. This means the Namekian ship moved 365mil miles in 1 minute.

That puts the Namekian ship at a speed of 21.9 billion miles per hour. They made it to Namek in 30 days of travel. The ship Goku took to Namek made the trip in 5 days. That means Goku's ship is 6 times faster than the Namekian ship. Don't worry, the ship speed DOES matter in this, I promise you.

So Goku's ship moves at 131,400,000,000mph. That's 131 billion, 400 million miles per hour. Or 195x the speed of light.

Why does the ship speed matter so much, you might ask?

Because King Kai could visually keep up with the ship. He was able to track Goku's progress with ease, and could see his ships movements without problems. This means King Kai's eyes and brain are capable of perceiving and processing things that move at 195x the speed of light.

Why does that matter? Because Super Saiyan is canonically a 50x multiplier to ALL base ability. Strength, speed, durability, etc.

And Goku, in Super Saiyan, was moving so fast King Kai stated he could no longer keep up. King Kai, capable of seeing and processing the input of vision on a ship moving 195x the speed of light, could not see or process the input of vision on Super Saiyan Goku.

We'll lowball it, and say Goku only needed to move 1 mph faster than 195x the speed of light for King Kai to lose track of him. So whatever value we get, we'll add 1mph to for Goku's base form speed.

So 195x the speed of light +1mph. 195/50=3.9x the speed of light. That's 2,616,900,000mph, adding in the extra mph makes it 2,616,900,001mph. So Base Form Goku moves at ~3.9x the speed of light, ON NAMEK. Super Saiyan is a 50x multiplier, putting him at ~195x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 2 is a 100x multiplier to Base, so 390x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 3 is a 400x multiplier, so 1,560x the speed of light. Super Saiyan God is a 20,000 multiplier so 78,000x the speed of light. Super Saiyan Blue is a 1 million times multiplier, so 3,900,000x the speed of light. And lastly, Mastered Ultra Instinct is a 300 billion times multipler, so 1.17 trillion times the speed of light.

Why did I bother going through all those multipliers? He wins in Base as of Namek saga lol. Anyway, continuing on to strength now that we've established Base Goku on Namek could move 3.9x faster than the Speed of Light while Saitama could only move at 0.5x the Speed of Light.

Strength. Okay. This one is harder to gauge, but we CAN gauge it. We'll go in terms of level of damage, so human level (would be on-par or less than peak human ability), town level (small towns), city level (large cities), nation level (an entire nation, less than a continent), continent level (one or more nations that span an entire continent), world-surface level (the surface of an Earth-sized planet), Planetary (capable of destroying an entire Earth-sized planet), Solar (capable of destroying a solar system), Galactic (capable of destroying a galaxy), multi-galactic (capable of destroying many galaxies), Universal (capable of destroying an entire universe), Multiversal (capable of destroying multiple universes).

We'll start with Goku this time. Goku's punches are, as of the Battle of Gods arc, strong enough to match Beerus perfectly to nullify the shockwaves of Beerus' attacks. Mind you, the mere shockwave of Beerus' attacks are enough to rip and tear the fabric of the universe itself, as stated by Elder Kai. This puts Goku's punches as being powerful enough to tear the fabric of the universe in when he first obtained Super Saiyan God. Why does this matter for Base Goku? Because Base Goku retained his SSJG power, as stated by Beerus.

So Goku in Base, post-battle of gods, is physically capable of punches that can tear apart the universe from the aftershocks alone. This is important to note because Elder Kai could physically feel the shockwaves from the World of the Kais. This makes Goku Universe-level in strength. This means Goku, post-BoG, in Super Saiyan is 50x stronger than what's needed for Universal, while Goku, as of current manga canon (assuming he didn't actually get any stronger since BoG and is simply more powerful due to new transformations) is capable of a form (Mastered Ultra Instinct) that puts him 300 billion times stronger than minimum Universe level strength.

And Saitama? Where does he fit here? Well, I thought this gap would be bigger honestly? But after researching, it seems the gap isn't all that big. Saitama has, canonically, with a Serious Punch, snuffed out an entire cylinder of stars and presumably every planet, moon, asteroid, and more, at a distance surpassing that of our solar system, and with a diameter surpassing it as well. This puts Saitama's power (if we lowball it MASSIVELY) at Solar. He could, in a single punch, destroy our entire solar system, and he wouldn't even need to be serious to do it. It's worth noting this is coupled with Garou's own Saitama-level Serious Punch, so we can assume this level of power is double Saitama's own.

So how do we determine the specifics? Well, he cleared an area large enough to cover, presumably, half the area of stars destroyed in the path of his and Garou's serious punches.

Through future revelations in the series we learn they didn't "destroy" every star in that path, but likely only several were destroyed, and possibly a galaxy, while the remainder of the void left behind was from the shockwave forcing every other star within range into a new position, creating a void in space that all stars had been moved from, save the few that were in the DIRECT path of their attack.

Another theory is that the Serious Punch^2 simply distorted the photons in the area, resulting in the appearance of a massive void, and this theory is based on the angles in the manga and comments made by other characters that paint Earth as the only thing in real danger from the power of the attack.

To be fair to Saitama, where we would lowball Goku, we'll highball Saitama, and say the Serious Punch^2 outright destroyed every star in the area. That level of power would, naturally, have shockwaves that push nearby stars out of the way AND distort photons in the area, resulting in a massive cone of destruction surrounded by a large cylinder of force.

This puts Saitama at, quite easily, multi-galactic level of strength.

But why did I say this gap isn't as big as I expected? One simple thing. Saitama has canonically punched his way into a different dimension in the manga. That means he's capable of brute-forcing his way out of the bounds of his universe. He is capable of physically destroying the fabric of the universe.

Meaning Saitama's strength is, bare minimum, Universal in close proximity. That puts him, strength-wise, on par with Goku, who through training has become stronger than Super Buu (who was so strong he could shout his way out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a dimension separate from our own), meaning Goku is also Universal in close proximity.

So...while I expected Saitama to be ~Planetary, MAYBE he'd be Solar at most...Research indicates he's actually Universal, or near-Universal, meaning the fight may not be too far a gap after all.

Goku may have Saitama beat on speed (given recent manga events in OPM, I'm willing to allow that Saitama is faster than light speed, but Goku having as many forms as he does (Kaioken, which he can combine with other forms and can hit a multiplier of x100 on top of whatever power he currently has, SSJ1-3, SSJG, SSJB, MUI) means even if Saitama matches Base Goku, he's likely not going to stand up to his stronger forms).

But on strength, I'd wager they're close enough for this fight to be one hell of a battle.

What about Durability? After all, all the strength in the world won't save you if you're as easy to kill as a simple bullet to the head, right?

Goku has withstood universe-ripping punches (from Beerus, the God of Destruction, and based on comments in the manga he's one of the stronger Gods of Destruction too), dimension-tearing attacks (from Goku Black, pre-Fusion), energy blasts that even the Gods of Destruction were nervous of (from Jiren during the Tournament of Power), and he survived multiple blasts from Granolah post-wish buff, who was renowned for his sniping power pre-wish, and post-wish was as powerful as he would be if he had spent every single second of the next 147 years training non-stop with the absolute healthiest amount of rest and physical care, making him, presently, as powerful as he would be at the END of that time, with the price paid being that he only had 3 years to live as he lost 1 year of his lifespan for each power boost.

It was also clear that Granolah was the strongest in the universe...at the time of his wish. Goku and Vegeta, who were already on their way, were not as powerful as Granolah even with their transformations. They became stronger during their fight with him, and stronger still during their fight with Gas (who was more powerful than Granolah after Gas transformed and mastered his transformation).

So we can safely assume Goku is Multiversal in Durability, as he himself was able to output Universal damage with each punch, and he was able to survive hits from beings drastically stronger than himself.

What about Saitama? Well, Saitama was able to survive the force of the Serious Punch^2 and he was able to casually bust his way into another dimension. So his Serious Punch, if he wanted it to, could easily destroy the barrier between universes or dimensions.

And given he survived the force of two of them impacting each other, I would put Saitama at, bare minimum, Universe-level durability. But given he was able to survive prolonged battle against Garou, who is a Power Mimic and has shown Saitama-level strength, we can safely assume Saitama is BEYOND Universal-level durability, and so we can put him right there with Goku at Multiversal durability.

So what do we have so far?

Goku has speed equal to, in Base Form, 3.9x lightspeed, and 1.17 trillion times lightspeed in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal level strength in Base Form, 300 billion times that in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal durability in Base Form, Multiversal durability in his most powerful form (300 billion times his Base Form's durability).

Saitama has speed equal to, at minimum, 0.5x lightspeed, and at maximum, if we highball it, 2x lightspeed.

Saitama has Universal strength.

Saitama has Universal durability at minimum, and Multiversal durability at maximum.

At this point, I'm convinced the speed difference between Base Goku and Saitama means nothing. Saitama's durability means even with Base Goku moving at his top speed, his impacts won't be enough to beat Saitama. At top speed Base Goku may be putting out Universal damage, but he's not putting out enough to actually BEAT Saitama. Only injure.

Making me rethink my "Goku wins in Base lol" claim earlier, how dare you!

Anyway, at this point, Goku would HAVE to transform to beat Saitama. His ability to sense power and Saitama's evident inability to suppress it (as evidenced by multiple characters sensing his ungodly power even while Saitama is completely relaxed) would mean Goku would know, right away, he needs to transform for the fight.

Saitama's durability means Goku would likely need Super Saiyan 2 or 3, or, more likely, SSJG. Super Saiyan God's multiplier to Granolah-arc Goku, after all of his training with Whis and Vegeta, would most likely be enough to beat Saitama. And given SSJG is enough to "most likely" beat him, then Super Saiyan Blue (aka Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan, the form above SSJG) is surely enough, and Mastered Ultra Instinct (a form drastically more powerful than SSJB) is absolutely more than enough to beat Saitama.

And given Goku's mastery over the Kaioken technique, and he's been shown to enter Kaioken x 20 while in Super Saiyan Blue for fair amounts of time as of the Moro saga, meaning even if SSB wasn't enough, given MUI is overkill, it's possible SSB x10 or x20 would be.

The point being, Goku wins this fight due to a combination of technique, experience, and power from his transformations. Given Goku is faster than Saitama and would sense his power as Saitama doesn't know how to suppress it, nothing Saitama could do would be a surprise attack to Goku, meaning Goku would have ample opportunity to react to everything Saitama does.

And given the relatively similar strengths the two bear, Goku would recognize he needs to transform to beat Saitama's output.

And given Saitama's greater durability than Base Goku, and greater durability than even what Saitama himself can put out, Goku would see he needs to transform to have enough of his own output to beat Saitama's durability.

Conclusion: Goku would absolutely win this fight, BUT...I'll give Saitama credit where it's due.

Out of everyone on the entire list, Saitama is the fairest matchup here, and the one most likely to give Goku a truly satisfying fight, given it would be a battle on par with those Goku has enjoyed most.

Kingdom Hearts Mickey

K.H. Mickey has a clear power limit and ability set. He is not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, or durable enough to beat Goku, but he is just enough of a threat for Goku to actually put his guard up, which is why K.H. Mickey would lose; Goku would see it as a fight, unlike with Kevin.

Crash Bandicoot

Crash isn't nearly powerful enough to be a threat to Goku, but he IS insane enough to push Goku to hostility. Goku would feel the need to put effort into getting him away and that is his downfall.

Hatsune Miku

Goku would assume she is a Red Ribbon android and fight her on assumption she's trying to kill him or bring harm to Earth. He would hit her full force expecting her to tank it and she would keel over dead instantly.

Wario

Everything he could possibly do, the Red Ribbon Army has tried and done better, and they've never beaten Goku. Neither would he.

Sans

Lost to a child with slightly above average human determination, and standard human strength and speed. He does not beat Goku.

And just because you specifically told me not to @ you, have this :)

@that-one-enby-onyx

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lazycats-stuff · 3 months

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U know those adorable videos where big brothers are the most gentle and just keep picking up and kissing their baby sibling no matter if the baby was sleeping or not? I imagine babybatbro (triple B lol) will be napping next to Bruce in bed and then which ever batbro will come in and steal the baby with no explanation hehe, I'd like to see something like that with all 4 batbros please

Awww... My heart, my cold heart is melting slowly but surely... So much fluff...

Summary: (Y/N) loves to nap, but everyone keeps picking him up.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, minor cursing,

Babies are wonderful little creatures. So cute, adorable, extremely cuddly, kind of defenseless, but one hell of a boost for serotonin. Babies were also a source of anxiety. Whenever (Y/N) cried, one of the boys or Bruce or Alfred would check on him and would gently shush him and try to figure out what was wrong with their little brother, son or grandson.

Usually it was easy, but sometimes it was a little bit more complex. No one ever said that raising a child is an easy feat. It's incredibly difficult, but also fulfilling at the same time. You get some incredible memories on the way and a nice cuddle bug who to a certain degree has a calming effect on you.

Of course, while the baby is calm and sleeping.

Speaking of sleeping, (Y/N) loved to nap. Whenever he could nap, he would. Public, home... It does not matter where they were, (Y/N) would nap. Even when the press was around and was loud, if it was nap time, (Y/N) was out cold. It was funny to see it and nothing but hunger or a soiled diaper would wake him up.

More importantly, the little bat or little shit if you ask Jason, loved to sleep next to someone in bed. And considering the fact that every member of the family needed a nap, (Y/N) was a perfect person to nap with. Some said that (Y/N) was like a cat. You know, eat on time, sleep on time...

Almost like a little kitten almost.

And when (Y/N) was asleep and cuddling with someone, those who weren't napping would take the little baby. At this point, they only used nicknames like little bat or kitten.

Now, back to the napping situation.

Whenever (Y/N) was napping with someone, the others would just take the little baby into their own arms and slowly move away from the original napping person. Yes, it may sound confusing.

For example, if (Y/N) and Bruce were napping, Jason would come in, sneakily take (Y/N) into his arms, gently of course.

The first time anything like that happened, Bruce was napping with (Y/N), in Bruce's room. It was quiet and Jason wanted to see his little brother. So what does on do to go get his little brother? He sneaks into Bruce's room and ever so quietly takes the napping baby into his arms and slowly sneaks out of the room to go to his own room.

When Bruce woke up he looked for his son. He found him with Jason after 10 minutes of searching. Jason simply waved at him while (Y/N) was slowly waking up in his arms. Bruce just sighed and left to get some coffee.

Jason chuckled quietly and cuddled his baby brother who was waking up, slowly cooing and squirming in Jason's arms and Jason nearly puked from the atomic bomb that (Y/N) has dropped at the moment in his diaper.

" Oh you cheeky little- " Jason cut himself off with a gag before going to (Y/N)'s room to change the diaper and not die from the smell. He gagged as he undid the diaper and threw it in the trash. He is weak. He is Red Hood, but he is weak. However, this could be considered as a bio weapon.

Jason cleaned (Y/N) up, who was wiggling his legs and giggling. Jason smiled and then put on a clean onesie and then took him into his arms.

The second time that taking a napping little baby happened was when Jason was napping with (Y/N). He was sleeping in his room, his brother in his arms. And who dares to disturb them? Damian. He wanted to spend time with his little brother.

So what does Damian do?

After a second of planning he sneaks in and ever so gently takes his little baby brother into his arms, shushing him gently in Arabic when he started fussing. Then, Damian, slowly made his way to his room, gently humming to him to keep him quiet.

Once in his room, Damian started cooing to (Y/N) in Arabic. Yes, Damian has said to Bruce that (Y/N) should know Arabic. It's a language worth knowing, what can he say?

Once Jason woke up, he was pissed. Whoever took (Y/N) was a bastard. He grumbled as he started looking for his baby brother. He glared when he entered Damian's room. And more so when he saw Damian smirking, in the condescending way.

" You are weak Todd. What if I was a burglar? "

Damian was lucky that (Y/N) was in his arms.

Third time when it happened was when Tim took (Y/N) from Dick. Dick was sleeping on the couch, which was outstretched so it could accommodate Dick and (Y/N). It was a nice, rainy afternoon, perfect for a little nap with a little, warm and cuddly baby.

So that's what Dick did.

He took his little brother into his arms, laid him on a couch, covered him with a blanket and closed his eyes. He put his arm over his brother and fell asleep quickly. It was nice to fall asleep with his little brother and the sound of rain falling.

Well, it was nice until Tim popped into the living room.

Tim also wanted to have his brother in his arms. Everyone hogs the poor baby and Tim needs to make sure that he has his time with the baby too. Tim ever so gently picked his little brother up and left to his room. But not before leaving Dick a note saying where (Y/N) is.

When Dick woke up, confused as to where his baby brother is. Safe to say, he wasn't a happy camper when he saw what has happened. More so at the note. He just grumbled and went back to napping.

And the fourth time when (Y/N) was 'kidnapped' was when Dick took (Y/N) from Tim. The two fell asleep while they were watching a movie. And Dick, very gently took his brother into his arms, happy to have his brother back.

And once of the best things about (Y/N)?

He could sleep through anything as he was a heavy sleeper. He rarely ever made a sound while he was sleeping. So Dick took his brother back into his arms and simply left. And without a note even. Dick laughed in his room afterwards, happy to take his revenge.

This was all some revenge, but not a vicious cycle by any means. It was nice, fluffy, harmless revenge. (Y/N) was happy to be cuddled and held, especially during napping. And if it was a competition between the brothers...

Oh well.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #batfamily

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milliesdiary · 2 years

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What if you are Jace's sister and he realizes you are in love with Aemond (and he also finds out that you two have been having premarital sex) which causes a fight so you go to Aemond for comfort and he soothes you

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐖

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader, targcest, mentions of sex. for some context: reader is daemon’s bastard child who rhaenyra welcomed as a part of the family. yes, aemond is a hypocrite :/ we still love him tho!!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile because i hate it. im going to be working on commissions for a bit though, so i decided to post it anyway to keep you guys fed :) please reblog and comment with your feedback. it means the world to me and keeps me motivated! ♡

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃."

Those were Jace’s words the second you walked into the dining room for breakfast. They take you aback, shock you into a frozen stupor.

You and your family have been in King’s Landing for the past few weeks, trying to set aside their differences with the Greens and do their best to reconcile. It has been rough for your younger brothers, though you have been having a brilliant time.

You and Helaena spend plenty of time together, Alicent treats you kindly, and Aegon leaves you alone. And Aemond? Well... you and Aemond are closer than most in terms of relationships.

But that’s a story for another day.

No one else is in the room thankfully — Luke wakes up later in the day, Helaena is presumably outside catching bugs, and your mother is probably off at a meeting with the court — so it’s just you, your younger brother, and the few servants that set the table.

“What?”

Jace gives you an unimpressed look; his chestnut-brown eyes are slightly narrowed, lips melded into a frown. “You love Aemond,” he repeats.

Your heart nearly stops when he says it, and you’re instantly terrified you’ve been caught. It would appear that misfortune has a tendency of catching you off guard. You honestly don’t know what to say.

“...That is quite an accusation,” you try to deadpan. That heated expression of his is chilling; you invite him to sit next to you in hopes of extinguishing it. “Why don’t you just sit down and eat?”

Jace isn’t deterred. He holds his head high and keeps his voice stern; a trait he has undoubtedly learned from your mother. “You told me a couple moons ago that you had no affections for him.”

Oh, Gods. You don’t really want to sit here and listen to him complain about how much of a burden you are from rejecting all of your parents’ attempts at arranging a marriage. For hating every single man they tried to set you up with. You scold yourself more than enough.

“I know what I said. And I mean it. I do not love him, Jace.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to come across as naïve. The servants are staring now. “What has brought this on?”

“You must think of me as a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting so innocent?”

“I don’t love him, Jacaerys. I swear it.” A bitter lie.

For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve won; your brother stands next to the table without saying a word, his mouth clamped shut as he bites the inside of his cheek.

And then he drops the bomb.

“I know you have been seeing each other,” Jace says. It doesn’t come out as a question; it’s a statement. “Stealing each other away in the night.”

Your heart drops in a single second. How does he...?

For these past few weeks, you thought you were being careful. Undetected. There was never anyone around when you slipped through the dark halls of the Red Keep every night and sidled up to Aemond’s door. Not a single voice to stop you as Aemond tugged you into his room and spoke High Valyrian in your ear as he undressed you, as he kissed you senseless, fucked you senseless. It was a dangerous game, of course — but you never actually expected to get caught.

“…Where did you hear that?”

“A kingsguard told me that you parted from his company last night.” Jace’s mouth twists into a disgusted frown. He hesitates, almost like he physically can’t say what comes next. “...From his chambers.”

In that moment, you knew it was over. The gist was up.

“Jace…”

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

And that’s the thing: you can’t say you don’t love Aemond, because it would be the furthest thing from the truth. Your hands fall to your lap and you fist your hands in the skirt of your dress, begging for courage.

“Don’t tell mother.”

Your response — shameful and pleading — speaks volumes. It makes Jace’s skin boil; he had been praying that the knight was wrong. And that hope he clung to so religiously? It’s gone. You can feel the symptoms of a dispute brewing: sweaty hands, agitated eyes, labored breathing. Tension hangs over you like a dark cloud and refuses to dissipate.

“Why?” Jace looks disgusted, repulsed even. It sparks a flame inside you. “You saw his true colors that night. All of us did. Baela, Rhaena. Luke.”

You know what he’s referring to. It is a memory that you want to squeeze the life out of.

“I thought we talked about you sorting out your priorities,” he continues. “What self-respecting daughter of the future Queen runs off and beds whoever she likes without a marriage proposal?”

Yes, perhaps your growing annoyance is misplaced. Your brother wants the best for you, and it’s only natural that he would have his reservations about Aemond.

But he doesn’t know the man like you do; he hasn’t seen his hidden softness.

Sometimes people lose their ability to be recognized when they are joyful — in a pleasant way, of course. Aemond is one of those people. You’ve seen him smile once before. Truly smile. It was not sly, snarky, or coy; for once, it was the sincere kind. You wished he would do it more. It was incredibly beautiful.

If only Jace could have experienced it.

“Don’t speak about him like that,” you mumble.

"I won't restrain myself to appease your ignorance.”

Inhaling sharply, you take a seat at the table and busy yourself by playing with the napkin beside your plate. It’s a feeble attempt at controlling your rising panic. Jace must think you’re acting a bit too calm, because he seems to bristle at your alleged indifference. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. Really, I am. I was just scared—“

“You lied.”

“It was a white lie. No harm was meant to come from it.”

Jace fixes you with a firm scowl. “A white lie? A white lie? Meddling with our uncle who you are not betrothed to is not something that just happens.”

“You are blowing this out of proportion. I did it to keep you from getting upset and—“

“This is not just about the lie itself,” Jace huffs.

“Then what is it?”

“You believed I wasn't worth your honesty.”

Your gut tightens at his remark — you know he’s right and that he deserves to be informed of such things. Finding out that someone you care for is hiding something this important is a rude awakening.

But you can’t stop.

“I knew you would act like this,” you retort. Raising your voice wasn’t planned, but it happens anyway. It feels like your veins are being ripped to bits as the telltale marks of wrath sweep throughout your body. “I will do you a favor next time and not tell you anything at all.”

“Or you could not encourage him,” Jace spits out. “You think that he does not act like his brother, Aegon? For all you know, he could be gallivanting with a servant every second he is not with you.”

Your jaw tightens so firmly that it seems to lock in place. You’re pissed now. “Aemond is not like that.”

“When you see him next, you can tell him to jump in the damn Dragonpit,” Jace continues. You aren’t used to hearing such crude language from him; it has you reeling. “Perhaps he’ll do that after he’s done fucking you.”

Something inside you bursts. Agonizingly. Ferociously. It's a jolt to your system that throws everything off-kilter. It is a painful fury that splits you in two.

You slam your palms down on the table and rise in your chair; you're astonished the wood doesn't split with the force of it. The plates and forks clatter, and Jace almost jumps. The servants bustling around you certainly do.

Your brother has some nerve. You want to spit foul names in his face. Wish to seize him by the collar and force him to kneel before your feet, because why? Why can’t you be with who you want? First it was Daemon who denied that you ever get betrothed to Aemond. Then it was your mother, and now it’s him.

“I do not need protecting, Jace!” Your chest is rising and falling faster now, like the erratic pull of the tides. It feels like there is so much bottled up energy inside of you that you could scream, erupt, or break something … you need to break something. You choose his spirit. “I don’t need you at all!”

Jace’s expression falls then. Along with it goes your anger.

His gaze flits to the ground for a second — as if the stone is a safe haven from your wrath — and you’re about to apologize when he lifts his chin to glare daggers at you.

“I get it now,” Jace laughs bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You would do anything to be held by him. Ceasing to care about who he might hurt next and ignoring his callousness. You see only what you want.”

In his rage, Jace’s lips spew poison from deep in his chest, a dark place that you didn't even know he had.

“You make me wonder how I ended up with a delusional lunatic for a sister.“

Dead silence.

The two of you are just staring at each other now. Jace braces himself when you step away from your seat; he looks like he’s expecting you to slap him, like he’s preparing himself for the sting.

And as much as you would like to do it, you just walk away.

You’re not even sure if Jace tries to stop you at first. Not sure if a servant tries to tries to grab you by the arm. You are running on pure adrenaline, pure buzzing energy, blood pumping like a battle cry in both eardrums.

It takes until you’re exiting through the giant wooden doors to hear Jace yelling your name — and you loathe how worried he sounds, detest it — and then you’re practically running through the stone hallways.

You want to go to bed. Shut everyone out and sleep until you awaken in a different world: one where you are not expected to get married to certain people, where your brother doesn’t expect you to be a person you can’t, and the 'losing an eye’ thing never happened, and … and it’s just you, Aemond, wrapped up in the sheets of your mattress. That’s all.

The world is just cruel.

Every step echoes as you make a beeline for your room. Tears slip down your cheeks and your fists quake; everything hurts. Emotionally, at least. You’re too worn out, too aggravated, too... mad? Hell, you’re not even sure if you’re still mad. The emotion that rips you apart right now feels more like an indigo-drenched sadness than a red-hot anger.

It’s a strange, crushing feeling that has you stifling a sob while rounding a corner.

But, as if the universe hates you, you catch a glimpse of that ethereal man — the fucking bane of your existence — walking down the same hallway. His back is to you, long white hair swishing with every stride he takes, and his posture is strong.

You don’t want to ruin his day. Spoil the mood, or show how weak you can be.

You call out his name anyway, because there’s only one thing you can think of in this moment. A mantra:

I need you right now, My Prince.

I need you to truly look at me and understand me.

Aemond, I need you to see me.

The man turns then. He says your name, and you, who denied loving him, practically run and throw yourself into his arms.

For a moment, Aemond doesn’t move a muscle; he’s confused, at a total loss. But then his palms slowly come down to your waist, supporting your body as he allows you to sniffle into his tunic.

He doesn’t speak for awhile. Instead, he just looks down at you.

Your cheeks are dressed in tears that resemble droplets of honey. Your gardenia scented hair, pressed against his chest, is beautiful. He discovers an unexpected heaven amidst your grief.

“He doesn’t want us to be together,” you try to whisper, but the words falter and trickle pitifully out of your mouth. They lack the power that you so urgently need.

At first, Aemond is silent. He has no idea what you’re talking about; and then it clicks. Jace.

Aemond has never been one to comfort others. You don’t really expect him to do much, honestly. But when he decides to speak, his tone is gentle and holds no judgment. “Your dear brother has found out about our arrangement, I presume.”

You pull away slightly to stare up at Aemond. You drink in every plane of his face; those high cheekbones, his pretty lips, the silver hair that brushes the ridge of his jaw and the scar he hides. You want to absorb all of him.

Aemond’s hands come to rest on your elbows, and then they slide all the way down your arms until he’s tenderly holding you by the wrists. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before speaking more resolutely. “Did he hurt you?”

“No — No, of course not,” you sniffle. Jace could be stubborn and fierce, but he would never lay a hand on you. “He was just being a brat. We got into an argument and he was ... he was mean.”

Aemond hums at that. “It must not have been too bad then. He is all bark and no bite,” he muses softly. Every syllable is gentle, each vowel soothing in its own right. He’s calm somehow.

It’s in these moments that you wish so deeply you could be like Aemond. Wish that you could stand your ground, despite wanting to run away. Wish that you could hold the barbs of someone’s anger in your palm and not get stung; not allow the sharp edges to slice under your skin and leave streams of blood in its wake.

But you are not strong like him.

With bated breath, you move to embrace Aemond once more, arms wrapping around his middle as you press your nose into the leather of his tunic.

It doesn’t last long.

Aemond leans into you, and then with both hands on your shoulders, gently tugs you away from his chest. You glance at him in confusion, and meet his gaze with an infantile glare.

For a second you think he doesn’t want to hug you. That he’s about to chide you for being a big baby, for getting in a fight with your sibling and blowing things out of proportion.

But then you quickly realize that he just wants to see your face.

The truth is, Aemond doesn’t want you to hide in his arms. He doesn’t want you to bury your head into his chest and conceal your pain, or for you to dig your face into his clothes until each cheek is dry and you look composed again.

He wants you to share every emotion with him openly, no matter how warped or ugly or bruised.

Perhaps that’s what love is; recognizing someone's greatest vulnerability and still choosing to love them.

It’s hard to place what emotion rests itself in Aemond’s eye after that, but whatever it is almost has you numb to how he’s holding both of your hands in his own. That is, until he trails a thumb over your knuckles.

“Convince Jace, please,” you beg once more. The edges of your mouth start to turn downwards as you tear up again, and Aemond’s eye follows; he takes in your grief intently, and you are fully conscious of that fact. “Please. Show him you are worthy of my hand.”

There’s a sort of surprise that swirls in his lilac gaze; however, his lips are in a straight line, his face nothing else but cold, and you can picture the war that rages inside his head.

“I bear a hatred that could draw blood,” Aemond finally murmurs. “Those who do not deserve to be forgiven will not know my mercy. I will not betray my feelings to please others.”

“Try, Aemond. Please. If not for you and your sanity, do it for me.”

Aemond can only stare at you — his only love, his life, his breath of fresh air. The woman who he hopes will be his future wife despite your family’s distaste. He inhales deeply, chest rising and flattening the creases in his tunic, gaze roaming the tear-tracks on your face. And then he caves.

But not before making a demand.

“Do not cry, my love,” Aemond breathes. “It does not suit you.”

And when you blink up at him so sweetly, nodding in a wordless vow, Aemond presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Then he kisses your left cheek, and the right, before slowly tracing his lips against your own.

“Your body is mine,” He whispers into your parted mouth. “And I will find a way to claim it. They will have no choice but to accept me.”

Aemond is a professional at pressing your buttons. It’d be a lie if you said it didn’t excite you; quickly, you capture his lips into a searing kiss. He returns the favor, knowing damn well that you want him, and yet he doesn’t tease in between kisses. He chooses tenderness over taunts just this once.

The air is filled with a sentence unsaid:

Touch my soul with warm words, and I shall do whatever you wish.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd imagines #millie’s works — 📓

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chaifootsteps · 1 month

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One of the things that frustrates me about Viv's designs is that they don't really tell me anything about the character's motivations or personality.

If I came knowing nothing about Hazbin and you tell me that Cherry Bomb is a punk from the 80's, Sir Pentious an inventor from Victorian England and Alastor a radio host from the 1920's I would have a very hard time believing you.

(((Especially since for some reason, Viv dresses almost all her male characters in Hazbin with some variant of the same suit and bowtie)))

But I think that no - other design frustrates me more than Nifty's. She is supposed to be a Japanese housewife from the fifties. Yet her dress is looks more like a Halloween costume of a fifties girl than something women would actually use at the time.

Her hair is not even accurate, it should be more curly since perms were really big among Japanese women during that time.

However, the fact that she wears a costume of a fifties woman could come in handy if you write a decent backstory.

Let's start by saying that Nifty was not an adult during the fifties, she was actually born during the early sixties into a very conservative and traditional family who told her that the only thing she needed to worry was to marry a decent man, have kids and take care of the house.

Like a 50's woman!

This caused Nifty, a very extroverted and playful child who loved bugs and mud, to have a pretty stressed-out childhood. Every time her mother found her playing in the garden and getting dirty she was beaten. The germo-phobia she developed as a adult was partially because of this, since filled with germs = being harshly punished she always made sure everything was clean.

Eventually when she was 19, her parents arranged a marriage with a businessman and they tied the knot not even a year later.

Her husband was not bad,

He was rather handsome, had a stable job, a big house in Tokyo and could even afford going on vacation once a year.

If only he wasn't the most boring man alive then things probably would have been different.

Whatever he genuinely loved Nifty or not is completely irrelevant when he treated her more like a housemate than an actual wife. They even slept in separate beds and the only time they spend together was during dinnertime and then 30 minutes of TV before going to bed.

NIfty was suffocating in her marriage.

But is not like she could say something. The one time she tried talking to her mom about it, she just told her to "be thankful" to have so much free time since things will change when she has children.

Well, she and her husband hadn't been intimate since their weeding night, so that wasn't happening any time soon.

That stayed the same for a while, until one night, while watching TV with her husband a local boy/band appeared on screen

It was the early 90s and boy bands were allll the rage.

New bands formed every day and this particular one didn't seem too different from the rest. Except that maybe, the Bad Boy of the group captivated a 30 year old Nifty and rocked her world in a way she hadn't experimented before.

At the start everything seemed normal, she started by buying one CD or two, attending meet and greats in local malls and going to their concerts. Nifty didn't want her husband getting involved, so she got a part-time job to cover those extra expenses and not use her husbands money.

Of course almost all the merch she bought was of Bad Boy

Soon, she started having this fantasies, dreams were B.B confused his undying love for her and took her away form her boring husband and into a live of adventure and music. B.B was a real man, rebellious and strong that would be able to keep emotion and passion in her life unlike her husband.

Those dreams helped her to live another day, and maybe it was because of this dependency that Nifty started to believe that those fantasies were real. That she and B.B were a secret couple and the meet and greats they had were really "dates" that they had to do in secret from her husband.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter a time before dear Nifty became one of those fans who you end up seeing in a police lineup and reading in the newspaper the minute she started stalking B.B and talking about him as if he was her boyfriend with whoever may listen.

All went into a breaking point when one day, Nifty just got tired waiting for B.B to take her away from her boring life. Thinking about it she just came to the conclusion that it was her dear old hubby the one that was keeping B.B away from her.

That has to be it.

Her husband must be preventing B.B from fulfilling his promise!

What lies did he told him about her?

Does he want me as his prisioner forever?!

This is not staying like this!

That night, after her husband fell asleep, Nifty woke up, went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and stabbed her spouse 30 times before ending his life with one clean slit in the throat.

Now that the bore is dead, she and her precious Bad Boy could be together forever! Now he has no excuse to not fulfill his promise! A new life filled with love, excitement and adventure awaits!

But first she needs to clean, everything ended up a disaster.

Maybe it was the excitement she was feeling, or it was too dark to properly read the labels, but mixing cleaning chemicals can actually be extremely dangerous. You may create a very dangerous gas that could potentially kill you.

That morning, the neighbors woke up due a very strong smell and they shouted the minute they found dead bodies of Nifty and her husband. She had her skin partially burned as she had felt face down the mix of cleaning solutions that took her life.

And you and me know, where she ended

Congratulations, Niffty's yours now! You're clearly more qualified to be writing her. Please cherish her.

#katsdrawlike #hazbin hotel critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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shayrose5494 · 2 months

Text

Valentino Must Die

So I have Hazbin Hotel brainrot and hate Valentino with a fiery passion. So I decided to compile a list of who I'd like to see be the one to off him when his time comes and how I think it would go down. This list is essentially from least exciting (but no less satisfying) to most exciting:

6. Husk

Now Husk is so low on this list because let's be honest, he's one of the most predictable ones to do it. It's been established by Vivziepop that apparently his and Angel's relationship will be a slow burn, but it's been hinted HuskerDust is endgame, so it would make sense for Husk to be the one to take Val out.

I imagine that one day, Angel returns to the hotel seriously hurt because of Val. This would be the tipping point for Husk. So he tracks down Val. Now this part could go one of two ways visually:

Scenario 1: We see Husk track down Val, and after a bit of a confrontation (and veiled threat on Husk's end), the screen cuts to black. Cut back to the Hotel, where Angel is finding out Husk went after Val. Angel, despite being in pain, has to go find Husk. But before he can leave, a bloodied Husk returns. He tells Angel he never has to worry about Val hurting him again and that he'll keep him safe. Insert HuskerDust first kiss.

Scenario 2: Husk still tracks down Val, but Angel arrives before the fight really begins. Val tries to hurt (or even kill) Angel. This send Husk into a rage and for the first time we get to see Husk's full demon appearance. The fight ensues and Husk comes out on top. Insert HuskerDust first kiss (I kinda sort ship it lol)

5. Angel

Angel is the one that has the most motivation to kill Val, which is why he's also so low on this list. Like Husk, this is quite predictable.

I imagine something along the lines of Husk's Scenario 2. But instead of Husk going full demon (maybe because he's lost his overlord status he can't go full demon anymore) he still fights as is. Unfortunately, this gives Val the upperhand.

So when it seems Val is going to win this fight, and possibly kill Husk, Angel shoots Val. We know Angel has the guns to do it. But he's always been too afraid of Val to follow through. But seeing Husk, someone he loves, facing Val's wrath, this would be the motivation Angel needs. (We know Angel is protective about those he cares about, like he was with Charlie when she came to the studio). Angel kills Val and HuskerDust kiss. (I'm trying to manifest it into existence ok).

4. Charlie

Now, I don't actually think Charlie would kill Val. However, I'm not gonna rule it out or be mad about it if it happens.

After all, we all saw how she went full demon after Sir Pentious' death. I wouldn't put it past Charlie to go full demon on Val after learning the extent of his abuse towards Angel (she nearly did in the studio). She's already lost one friend, she's not about to loose another. But we all know, that if Charlie got into a fight with Val, there would be no option of sparing him. And not even Angel would be able to talk her out of it this time.

3. Cherri

I feel like Cherri's motivation would be similar to Charlie's. She also lost Sir Pentious and there is no way in hell (pun 10000% intended) she's going to loose Angel to moth boy.

I'd love nothing more than to see her shove one of her bombs down his throat then walk away as he explodes in the background like in an action movie.

2. Niffty

Nothing would bring me more joy than watching Niffty pull an Adam2.0 with Val. And since we know that she enjoys killing bugs, watching her kill the giant pest would be so satisfying.

I imagine that Angel would finally tell Val, he's done, contract be damned. So Val shows up to the hotel. A fight between Val and the gang ensues. Val, like Adam, starts monologuing, until a knife pops through his chest.

Bonus points if Niffty does it because a tiny moth came flying through the lobby, so her thinking it's the same principle as with mother roaches and their children, kills Val to send a message to the moths lol.

Finally, last but never least, and my personal favorite because it's so out of left field:

Alastor

Now, hear me out, this one's a bit strange, but let me explain:

Imagine the Husk/Angel scenario where Husk goes after Val, but Val gets the upper hand. Husk is seriously injured (not killed mind you, just injured). While Alastor doesn't consider Husk a friend, he does own Husk's soul. And if you think anyone but Alastor can hurt Husk and get away with it, you'd be sorely mistaken.

Alastor would rip Val limb from limb (and we love that for Val). Plus this would reinforce the rivalry between Alastor and Vox, especially of Vox and Val are still in their dating phase of their on/off relationship. This could even bump Vox up to a serious antagonist for the hotel.

I know that some of these were a bit far-fetched, but I love twists and turns like that in movies and TV. Going in one direction for so long before taking an unexpected turn. If anyone else has any other ideas let me know. I want to hear all of the fun ways we could kill Val. In the meantime:

Piggy kisses for your troubles.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #niffty #cherri bomb #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin hotel valentino

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alicelufenia · 3 months

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Testing new ways to recruit Minthara in Patch 6 - Part 2 (KO without being temporarily hostile)

The first part of this series taught me a lot about the changes to Minthara's recruitment conditions. I was fully expecting it to simply be easier to keep her temporarily hostile, but now that we know that any knock out condition will suffice

This means it's now possibly easier to recruit her than ever before.

For this next test I tried fighting her the old fashioned way, how lots of people may have done it and how I had hoped it would work from the start; talk to her at the goblin camp, reject her command to raid the grove, and knock her out as a result, regardless of whatever hostility level the game mechanics say.

What sentence will always start a fight? - "Hey, wanna start a fight?"

I even made sure they were able to hit the wardrum too, the bane of many an honor mode attempt at a Minthara recruitment.

And look at that, it still worked!

Also she didn't bug out this time, so inviting her to kill the guards together worked just fine.

One thing to note, if you do it her way of slaughtering your way out of the prison, you'll aggro the rest of the tower. You wanna sneak out the doors to the dock, and there's a path that will lead away from the tower. After returning to camp with Minthara and maybe even a long rest, the tower's aggro should reset.

LMAOOO

I'm glad I finally get to witness this special pairing. Ultimatum? Never heard of her.

THIS IS THE SECOND TIME HER CAMP CLOTHES GLITCHED OUT IN THE LEVEL UP SCREEN

Also it wouldn't be a Baldur's Gate 3 patch that introduced new and innovative bugs to our favorite spicy elf. Apparently this is what she says in lieu of whatever appropriate narrative reaction should have triggered. Spoilering this out cause I don't wanna drop big spoiler bombs on unsuspecting people.

Anyway, that's it. I get the feeling I may not have to do any more testing than this. The previous methods of knocking her out should still work, the game has just extended that courtesy to any time she is knocked out.

I still think it would be cool if she disappeared after being reduced to 0 hp during the grove battle, like in the Daughter of Lolth mod which people used prior to all this. I dunno I feel no companion should be completely missable in this game. Although, this means the two people most likely to recruit Minthara without looking anything up are now both people playing an evil route, and those playing a pacifist good guy tav who always tries to knock enemies out instead of killing them. I look forward to the first time someone finds her at Moonrise Towers and it comes as a complete surprise. But I should wrap this up now.

Final Verdict: Recruiting Minthara by KOing her by initiating a fight via dialogue at the Goblin Camp - WORKS!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate iii #bg3 minthara #minthara #minthara baenre #minthara bg3 #nightwarden minthara #minthara good playthrough recruitment #I suppose the only thing left to test would be grabbing Halsin and going on a killing spree through the whole camp #I'll leave that to someone else #for now knowing these methods all work makes me very happy #Minthara fans things may be looking up for us?#I jest. I'll have to do another playthrough to get my Alurlssrin fix #ah well

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transhoverfish · 4 months

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OK SO IM LATE BUT. MORE SUB3 NEWS!!!

so a few days ago, krafton (their publisher), apparently had this like presentation of their plans over the next like 2 years. and during that they talked a bit about sub 3!

and this obviously creates a LOT of questions. not to worry, though, because unknown worlds added on to this:

im honestly not surprised by this. iirc, when below zero released they said it would be a WHILE before the next game, and they only announced this back in like... january? now, the first game's release was in january, and bz was in may, so it's definitely possible early access with be in spring of 2025. those games did not have multiplayer aspections tho! its possible we'll wait until mid 2025, and full release will likely not be until 2026. but who knows? the first game took like ten to be fully finished!!

and honestly. THANK GOD. i can't imagine any subnautica game having BATTLE PASSES or LOOT BOXES. i would have just straight up ignored this game 😭

i do wonder what these updates will entail! "many years to come" is definitely something interesting to me, because other than bug fixes... i dont remember sub or bz getting many updates post full release. is this referring to bug fixes, or is it implying that it will be in a state of early access for much longer? are they going to just keep adding new things (like the building update for sub1) and taking fandom suggestions? very interested!!

maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but i actually,,,, dont want multiplayer. now i do like bz, and these games arent really intended to be horror games, but also bz is very noticeablely less scary than sub1. and some of it i think definitely has to do with all the extra characters and dialogue. its hard to feel isolated when you know al-an and marg are nearby. so im very happy that it's optional, bc i know i will probably enjoy single player a lot more enjoyable!!

so now... SPECULATION.

so the first thing im curious about that the development team didnt mention:

"uncover the mysteries on an entirely new alien planet"

apprently we are NOT returning to 4546b. which im kind of sad about!! ik the story is very obviously done there, but it feels weird that its going to be some other planet this time around. THERE WONT BE PEEPERS!!!! (well there could be but it would be weird if some other random planet had the exact same lifeforms)

now my next immediate thought is: is this a direct continuation of below zero? my opinion is: no. probably not.

mostly because it mentions up to four players, and robin and alan are, if you look very closely, only two people. now they COULD just create two new characters to go alongside them (my fanfic brain loves the au idea of marg and ryley 🥺) but im just going to assume that with the addition of a new planet, we're going to drop the old storylines. which means no more degasi, sunbeam, aurora, or ayou sisters. we might move away from architects/precursors altogether! (my basis on this is absolutely nothing and i could be wrong, this is 100% just theorizing)

also, i imagine that it would be difficult to keep the plot the exact same with two established characters and then two new ones, depending on how this multiplayer aspect works. if its another crash, it would be a lot easier to just have the extra players die/survive, then try to work in a balancing act of one guy playing al-an.

(also i like keeping the ending of bz vauge. if they show up again, they would have to mention what happened to the rest of the architects, and i think it's much more fun if thats a mystery!)

((also also, im gonna drop a bomb on u all for a second. i actually,,, dont like al-an. i have a deeper connection to probably every single other character in bz. i think they really fumbled al's character and story and he is so incredibly bland to me. it feels like they go nowhere with how he was responsible for the kharra outbreak because the game ends immediately after he confesses! it would be nice to give him another chance, sure, but i personally dread the idea of even more al-an. sorry everyone for this horrible news))

HERE'S A CONCEPT IMAGE

i hope they bring back some cut content creatures for this!! i noticed this new area looks VERY similar to the safe shallows, and several of the fish seem to be variations of ones we've already seen (im already seeing bladderfish and hoopfish color pallettes, and the shark resmbles some early concept art for the shadow leviathan, but with the ice worm's colors...)

will there be more land areas?? is it going to entirely underwater?? more kharra?? NO DISEASE AT ALL?? AAAAAA!!!!

#so excited so excited SO EXCITED #sub 3 news #undescribed

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cairavende · 6 months

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Worm Arc 14 thoughts through 14.7 (there is too much for one post, I mean I could probably get four to five posts from 14.11 alone):

The team figures out Siberian's whole "is a projection" thing pretty quickly. Good for them.

I really want to know who ripped out page 325 for the "how horrible of a thing have I done that I don't want shared" check. I strongly lean Trickster but I'm not sure. I want more details on the Travelers and TiaV dammit!

Amy is having a bad day. Probably really a continuation of a bad few days. She probably didn't really need those fingers right?

Skitter criticizing Amy in her head for not being "creative" enough with her power is so on brand. Of course my daughter has already detailed out the complex ways she would use a power she doesn't even have. I love her.

I really wish the Undersiders/Travelers combo would stop splitting the fucking party. If they had just sent everyone after Siberian I bet the could have gotten the dude.

I do have have Skitter has gotten to a point where one of her "start of combat" actions is to just make a fuck ton of bug decoys. Almost without thought at this point.

Have I mentioned how much I love the "writing words in the air with bugs to communicate with people"? Cause I do. It makes sense. It would work. It lets her communicate long range. But it's also very silly to imagine. Very Silver Age in the best way.

Then it gets even better! Skitter makes a full blown animation to tell Amy that Siberian is trying to drop a building on her. Absolutely fucking perfection.

Tattletale maybe misjudged ever so slightly in what she revealed to Siberian. The combo of Siberian just flickering out of existence and everyone being like "oh fuck" was very good.

Amy trying to do her bullshit again and Tattletale having none of it, just destroying every argument before Amy even makes them until Amy agrees to come and help. More than makes up for any mistakes Tattletale made with Siberian.

The relay bugs are super neat.

Fucking high speed mutant dog/car chase. Absolutely fucking AMAZING. I loved every part of it. Ending with Sundancer just dropping a 50 foot wide sun on the road.

Tattletale trolling the shit out of Piggot and the heroes gives me life.

Also, Piggot's phone conversation with Tattletale was basically a villain monologue. For Piggot. Just all the shit about why she was doing it, why it was for the best, the coy little "sorry your teammates are gonna die, it's just an unfortunate side effect". All of it. This bitch is evil.

My daughter fucking tying up Crawler with spiderwebs. HOLY SHIT KID. God damn.

Very Mulan "Get off the roof, get off the roof, get off the roof" energy as they all run the fuck away from the bombing zone.

BUG HORSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BUG HORSE BUG HORSE BUG HORSE BUG HORSE BUG HORSE!!!!

AMY MADE MY DAUGHTER A FLYING BUG HORSE I'M DYING!

TAYLOR CAN BE THE (BUG)HORSE GIRL SHE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO BE!

It rescues her and she has to teach it how to fly and they form a bond and she saves it and it saves her and and and she gives it a NAME! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

She's only had Atlas for a day and a half but if anything happens to him I will burn the world to the ground. Then I'll find another world and burn it to the ground too.

Firebombs don't really do shit but destroy a chunk of the city, probably kill some civilians, and make the heroes lives pretty fucking hard as they have to rely on the randomness of Clockblocker's power.

Also weren't there supposed to be a bunch of Nazis also getting hit by the bombs? One of the only somewhat maybe kinda almost decent parts of the plan Piggot and they aren't even here!

Piggot's plan is terrible and evil is what I'm saying.

The only reason nearly every hero doesn't end up permanently trapped or whatever inside Cache's bag of holding is cause Skitter was there to keep him from being crushed by a car. Well, Skitter and her bug horse (BUG HORSE!)

Skitter got to shoot Mannequin in the back. Very satisfying even if it didn't do long term damage.

Sucks to be Cache. He's . . . probably fine? I mean at least he got everyone out as he was melting.

Really sucks to be Glory Girl. She is . . . uhhh . . . hmmm . . . not dead. I can at least say that.

I mean Skitter got her to Amy. And Amy did stop her from dying. So like . . . she's probably going to be fine. Yep. Juuuuuust fine.

(Look if Amy wasn't a bitch about giving Atlas a digestive system I might be willing to forgive a lot. My daughters (bug)horse comes first. But Amy didn't so I won't. At least Grue was able to help. He gets a lot of brownie points for that.)

Anyway, Victoria needed to take some time to heal the rest of the way so she left completely under her own free will. And it will never come up again.

Bombin' 2: Electric HOLY FUCK PIGGOT YOU REALLY ARE CRAZY Bombgaloo

Kill a few more civilians and maybe Crawler and Mannequin. Destroy more of the city (including the library!) in a way that will probably never be salvageable (I mean at least some of it is stopped in time for god knows how long). Jack, Bonesaw, and Siberian escape. And because of what was done Bonesaw is going to activate her bio-weapon.

Great job Piggot. Gold star. You fucking did it. You saved the city. You motherfucking idiot.

#Worm #Worm Web Serial #Parahumans #Cairavende reads Worm #The Slaughterhouse Nine #Taylor Hebert #Victoria Dallon #BUG HORSE #Atlas is the best #I love him forever #For real though I'm sure Amy is gonna go ahead and fix Vic right on up and set her brain right and then Vicky will be good as new #Won't need any therapy at all #Cause she'll be fine #It's not like Amy has already shown that she will justify literally any action she does as not her fault #So no reason to expect this to go any different then she says it's gonna #Thus Victoria is clearly fine. No further questions. It will never come up again I'm sure.#BUG HORSE!

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forestshadow-wolf · 8 months

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What if Soap and ghost were on a mission that turned south. Not because of the unpredicted gun fight. Or because the target tried to run.

Cw: Main Character Death

No they were almost always prepared for those kinds of complications. Almost expected them. It was very rare that things went to perfectly to plan, and it was almost disappointing when it didn't happen.

What they weren't prepared for was a botched opportunity to aquire some new intel.

It wasn't that they couldn't download the intel. They both always had a flash drive on them for just in case scenarios, like this one. It wasn't even that the intel was fucked... well, kinda...

They'd agreed that soap would grab the intel, ghost would start taking the target back to the exfil location, and wait for soap there. Easy enough, right?

He shucked the protection of his gloves, in favor of the dexterity he needed for the touch screen. Turns out grabbing intel was not so easy if said intel is bugged to detonate a bomb underneath the warehouse as soon as the download starts... there's a distinct *CLICK* and soap has half a second to think 'well I'm fucked'

And then he's opening his eyes to dust and debris bathed in the orange light of fire. There's something that digs into his back, right between his shoulder blades. His head rings. Or maybe that's his radio.

One hand paws at his radio, as he uses his other hand to push himself up. Both attempts in vain. His radio toned in his ear, and while he did manage to get standing it for only for about half a second before he collapsed. He released the button on his radio. Still it crackled unintelligibly.

Thank god he decided to look into electrical wiring for setting up a new model of charges because after a minute and a lot of fiddling, his radio garbled something half understandable.

"-NNY! HOW COPY? JOHNNY! HOW! COPY!"

"Ah'm alive. Warehouse blew."

"I know. You injured?"

"Aye, can't hold m'legs under me. How'd you get the target to confess to the bomb?" It felt like his head was swimming.

"I didn't. It was the giant bloody mushroom cloud. Don't. Move. I'm comin' for ya."

Oh. Yeah, that made more sense, huh.

"Aye, I'll wait fer ya, L.T."

Ghost asked him questions the whole while, keeping him awake. Soap questioned him back, ever the opportunist, to find out more about the man.

"Ghost." He says abruptly cutting off whatever ghost had been saying, as soon as his eyes fluttered opened. "Ah think... ah think ah'm losin' time."

He heard ghost curse under his breath, and his breathing pick up. "Stay awake, Johnny. You hear? Keep talkin' to me. Tell me-.. tell me 'bout your sister. How's she doin'."

"That's a new one. Never had anyone tell me ta keep flappin' my gums..." he coughs wetly, "Hey- is it supposed to be hard to breathe? That's not normal, right?"

Ghost goes really quiet on hsi end of the line then. And then he speaks up, really softly. "Johnny?"

"Yeah, L.T?"

"Liten to me very carefully. Have you been impaled?"

Soap looks down at himself. It's hard to breathe, but he's got nothing poking out of him, so, "no?"

Ghost curses again.

Oh. Hey was the fire that close before? Shouldn't ge be hot, not shivering his fuckin' balls off? Something's... thats... Something's definitely wrong. His eyelids threaten to fall closed.

Wait! No. He's supposed to stay awake. That's what ghost said... he thinks... right? You're not supposed to fall asleep. He learned that in basic didn't he? Why was it so hard to think? Maybe it was the shivering? Wait, but there was fire. He should be hot. He should be trying to get away from it... but he was so tired? He should sleep if he's tired, right? Listen to his body and all that.

Wait! But ghost said!

"Can you talk to me, L.T? 'M tired..."

"JOHNNY! Stay awake! You hear?" The volume of the garbled words startles soap awake again.

"Talk? W'na 'ear yer voice.." he slurs

Ghost answers him appropriately... he thinks. The voice is soothing. He could fall asleep to that voice so easily...

When ghost finds soap he's not breathing, his pulse is faint, and fire is creeping ever closer. He starts rescue breaths immediately. Next come the chest compressions. He feels something snap underneath his hands. He keeps going. Med-evac should be here by now he thinks.

PLEASE! JOHNNY, PLEASE!

he doesn't wake up. His pulse fades weaker and weaker.

He still has time. He still has time. He still has time. He. Still. Has. Time.

He's not losing him. He's not losing him He's not losing him. HE IS NOT LOSING HIM!

Oh... but the medical team pulls him away. He fights back. They drag him out of the building. He watches as they carry soaps lifeless body out through fire.

They don't even start chest compression again. They just lay him down in a body bag and zip it up

A gutteral, heart-wrenching scream rips through the air. It's him. He knows it's him. But he can't feel it. Can't hear it. Not really anyway. He screams, pushes, curses, shoves. Anything to bring Johnny back.

Johnny does not come back.

He collapses. They have to drag both him and Johnny the body back to the helo.

That's it. That's how it ends.

Nothing quiet and soft like they both hoped for. Nothing brilliant or spectacular. Not even taking the life of an enemy or saving a comrade's life. Just...

The autopsy report said a punctured lung.

The explosion must've broken his ribs. His best guess it that it punctured his lung when he'd tried to get up tjat first time. Then fluid began to fill his lungs. And neither of them knew. Not until it was too late anyway. Soap had gone into shock, and Ghost hadn't been able to get there fast enough. They said they didn't know how he survived so long with the filled lung.

But ghost knows. He stayed to talk to simon. Just for a little longer.

That's the only consolation he gets as he fills out the mission report. That soap's hear stopped beating to the sound of his voice. He'd always said simon had a lovely voice, he wasn't sure if he believed that but soap seemed to think so.

But what now... what... happens... now...

This was supposed to be like 2.5 sentences but it grew legs and ran away from me

#mcd #main character death #angst #this one actually made me sad #like the idea of it just... happening #like it couldn't be stopped #and it was neither soft nor blaze of glory #it just happened #absolutely devastating #el rambles #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod #cod mw2

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starry-blue-echoes · 2 months

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Star Swap is so hyped for me!!! cuz Jotaro just has to go through his trauma! Jotaro gets to uncover what happened! Protect his past self! He has to inform his past self that things are going to go well In the past his mom was going to be okay and nobody (Important Dio get fucked) dies. But also things are going to go bad because that brat that past him is currently inhabiting right now. Will make everyone in the past freak out so bad because he didn't write down a single thing explaining anything.

SO RUDE JOSUKE! and low-key life-ruining.

I know you said in general that Jotaro Is going to have a thing with electricity and Loud Noises (which I think are Kira's bombs I'm pretty sure) I also think *Click is just going to Immediately alert him. But I would also like to add RATS.

Because I can't get over the fact that two Jotaros with their same Stands are going to be facing off with two rats with their same stands and our two Jotaros are going to get CLAPPED. Those rats were INSANE.

Anytime Adult man Jotaro nearly gets killed

The teenager Jotaro’s brain: FREAKS OUT

I think the main issue here is that Jotaro has no actual context so Jotaro looks at a radio tower “I have emotions towards this And have no idea why and that's a problem.” I also feel like he's probably going to be Vigilant toward any unexplainable feelings that seem to emanate from that memory Gap so those Feelings just kind of get Amplified until he gets an explanation.

Having said that, I do believe that it is quite possible for our adult man Jotaro to ping Yoshikage Kira Before he does anything in front of anyone. Passing each other on the road but only once.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS yesyesyesyesyesyes

GOD this is all so delicious I barely know where to start

I didn't even think about just how much the mystery of Jotaro's "past" is going to tie into all this. Part 4 really is just a mass of mysteries and uncovering so many decade old secrets, and now some of the secrets have become personal

(Also uh. Before we get into things, clarifying nicknames are likely in order <3 let's just keep it simple and easy, Jojo is the teen and Jotaro is the adult)

but just. Gods can you imagine the pure chaos when Jotaro and Jojo meet for the first time. Jojo of course realized what was going on first, after all Jotaro's style.... really hasn't changed much. Not to mention the subtle shift in the air when the other man used his Stand

and of course, when Jotaro realizes he gets thrown for a loop. He came here to check up on his father's illegitimate child and do some poking around for the arrows. Now he's suddenly being nailed in the face with the past that's eluded him for years

it's going to be a MASSIVE relief for Jojo to hear, even if he doesn't express it fully. That mom is safe, that everything turns out okay.

He is however, equally as frustrated by Jotaro's lack of clarity in his memories and starts planning out a very aggressive note to leave behind when they finally switch back

and YESSSSSSSSSS with the clicking noise and rat thing, that's absolutely perfect. Especially with the rat thing since well. They move :)

and the worst part of it all, the electricity and explosions and clicks and rats, is Jotaro doesn't know why. All he knows is that this is a danger to him, that it is life threatening and pain causing and he needs to get away

(and speaking of Bug Eaten, Tonio is going to be getting a L O T more visits than in canon on account of the whole..... Being The Only Healer In This Entire Stand Ridden Town)

I LOVE the concept of Jotaro getting vague feelings of events to come. Because his memories aren't fully gone per say, they exist and are present but they're hazy and muddled and unclear. And yet, with every day he spends in Morioh, every adventure he hears the kids have gone through and every adventure he gets roped into as well, they become clear

But rarely do the warning systems help. At least, not in any way that truly helps. After all, Fate and the Future has already been decided. every action has already been taken, every fate known, every thing unavoidable. This is not a second chance at the life Jotaro had lived, it was Jojo's first chance

that's the most taunting part of these feelings. How vague and muddled and fuzzy they are. A feeling of deja vu can mean a new ally or a hated enemy and he can't differentiate the two

when he eventually realises this, Jotaro shifts his energy to something he can do, and that's training the kids. He came back to his own time a competent fighter and with the ability to stop time, so dammit he knows he can at least try

...........wait a moment I had

a FUN idea to play with regarding the time stop

so. Given the fact Jotaro learned it essentially via a slight paradox, there would be no relation to Dio at all. There wouldn't be any baggage or trauma attached to it at all

at least...... not with Jotaro that is :)

the other Crusaders? Who fought and nearly died against such an ability? That's an entirely different ball park :)))

plus, it could also lead to some fun angst in terms of "Theories Of Where Jotaro Was" now including captured and possibly trained by Dio which wasn't a fun thought for anybody involved

#f in the chat for joot's mental state it's all over the god damn place #star swap #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders spoilers #jjba part 3 #diamond is unbreakable #diamond is unbreakable spoilers #jjba part 4 #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #sb answers #angstaceanon

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supernovasilence · 3 months

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I'M GONNA CRY I JUST SPENT LIKE AN HOUR ON AN ASK AND TRIED TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT LIKE A FOOL AND NOW IT'S GONE. It was anonymous too I can't even @ the asker ciar I hope you see this ToT

anyway the ask was "please talk more about 'their siblings are all the Pevensies have' " so I'll try to reconstruct what I had

Listen if there's anything I like in fiction it's siblings, and relationships that would probably be unhealthily codependant in real life but this is fiction so it's fine (or you push them that little bit farther into unhealthy and then you have a dark/tragic au, which can be fun too). So thinking about the Pevensies makes me go feral a bit.

Narnia, and her thrones, are a gift, and they're a burden.

The Pevensies gave up their home, their friends, their family, their old lives—even the memory of their old lives—to rule Narnia. And their old lives currently included being sent away into the country to shelter from a war, so they would have lost some of that anyway, and I'm certainly not saying finding Narnia was a bad thing. But it came with sacrifices, and out of all the things they lost, they still have each other. In all the magical, beautiful, wonderful, but strange things they have to learn, their siblings are familiar. Faced with sudden, terrifying responsibility, they can still be just kids, just Pete and Su and Ed and Lu, with each other. And then part of that responsibility is Peter and Susan being parents to Edmund and Lucy as well as siblings, and it's strange and it's familiar and everything gets complicated and messy but it all boils down to they love each other so much.

They're the only humans around. They're the only ones confused by the magical, medieval land they're in. Their friends and advisors do what they can, of course, but in the end the weight of running a country all comes down on four tiny pairs of shoulders; they're the only ones who know how that feels. They make friends, and friends that become like family, but in those early days the only people they've known more than a few days are their siblings. And they've known each other forever. They're the ones that know how to make Peter laugh when he works too hard or coax Susan into cruelly needed bravery and she's terrified or see past Edmund's angry outbursts to what's really bothering him or convince Lucy to be more responsible without telling her she's wrong for being young or emotional or wild. They know the in jokes, the favorite colors, the secret petty hates (Lucy doesn't like bugs, if you make Peter wear gray he won't be able to focus all day because all he can think about is how much he hates wearing gray), the little tricks to cheer each other up. They know how to soothe each other out of nightmares and the sort of places they hide when they want to cry.

And they're the only ones who understand how they can have the magical joy that is their new life and still be sad. They're the only ones who remember England, everything and everyone they knew there. Later, when Narnia has soothed their homesickness with cruel mercy, they're the only ones who know what it is to miss what you can no longer remember, who understand the ache that still gets into your gets into your dreams some nights, long after you know the words and the names to explain.

And then they go back.

Once again, they lose home; once again, their siblings are all they keep. Digory went to Narnia, but he knew her for a few days in her infancy. He doesn't know her castles, hasn't learned her dances, hasn't ridden for leagues through her forests or sailed her seas. He doesn't know what it's like to lose years of your life in an instant. He still remembers the names of months and how to use common household items. He wanted to come back, so he could embrace his mother and make her well. The Pevensies were thrown out without warning, and their mother is far away under bomb-filled skies. But they still have each other. Peter still tries to lead, stumbling, scared, and the others try to support him; Edmund struggles; Lucy runs wild; Susan is frightened. It's strange and it's familiar.

They return to Narnia; it's broken, changed, a thousand years too old. Of everyone the Pevensies knew in the Golden Age, their siblings are all they have left. No one else understands how strange it all is, so much the same but so different, how it feels to be a legend.

Alright this got much longer than I planned and there are two diverging rambles from here so. I'm gonna start with my thoughts on the Pevensies' dynamic in my preferred and-then-they-get-to-keep-Narnia-somehow headcanon, and below the read more will be my thoughts about canon.

They're allowed to stay this time, and rule alongside Caspian. All Narnia has assumed, of course, that the kings and queens of old would. Only the Pevensies know the relief the others feel. Only they understand the secret mistrust they feel, too, that Aslan's promise will be a lie. Some Narnians have utter faith in him, and would think such doubt inconceivable (especially from the four he fought alongside, and died for), or even blasphemous. Some would have preferred if Jadis came back, or are wary of authority altogether after so long under the Telmarines, but Aslan is a story to them, not seen for centuries. He was the Pevensies' friend. Their doubt is mingled with the taste of betrayal, and shame for feeling so.

The Pevensies rebuild Narnia once more, not from ice this time but iron chains. The work is familiar and it isn't; Narnia is the same and it isn't. All Narnia cheers when Cair Paravel is rebuilt, but the Pevensies are the only ones left alive who called it home.

If this is an au where the Pevensies simply never go back after PC, then they are once again the only ones who remember England, and the people they left behind. They aren't surprised when someone says "I'm homesick" while standing in their bedroom in Cair Paravel, know who their siblings are talking about when they ask "do you think they're doing okay? we'll be dead before they even know we're missing", understand how they can be living such a joyous life and still carry a little ember of sorrow in them all the time. If this is an au where the Pevensies still travel between the worlds, but with more time spent in Narnia and a guarantee to always return there, then they are the only ones who know how confusing that is, living two lives, and how hard it is, lying to your family about so much that's so important to you.

But their siblings are family too, and always there no matter the world, and as long as they have each other, the Pevensies can survive anything. Susan is famous for her beauty, and they all four laugh the day she gets her first silver hair, the first among any of them.

"The dear little friends are going senile now," Trumpkin mutters, in his grumbly, affectionate way, and Susan just laughs and says,

"Oh, I quite plan to,"

because Peter is giving her hand a squeeze while Edmund and Lucy beam, and she knows they all understand what this means. They are growing and greying and living, here, in Narnia. They have been and they will. They never got old enough to go grey, the first time round. And they will get very grey indeed, and very old, and they will have lots of friends and a large extended family, and lots of people will have lots of pieces of them. But, though those things get fewer, there will still be some things that only their siblings understand best, because they knew each other first.

(Honestly my base headcanon is actually the Pevensies as a set morphing somewhere along the way into the Pevensies + Caspian as a set, but the point is these siblings spend years being the only ones being each other's closest people and it shows.)

Alright now the acknowledging-canon-for-once option!

They leave again. Peter and Susan know it's forever. Edmund and Lucy now know there is a forever away from Narnia, waiting for them someday. They think of the Professor, who still dreams about the world he saw for a few days as a child. How comforting his stories had seemed before! How sad they seem now, a lifetime spent missing what you will never have again! The Pevensies go to stiff, unhappy boarding schools, and are surrounded by people who don't understand everything they have lost, everything they will lose.

Perhaps cruelest of all, they begin then to be ripped away from their one constant: each other. The Pevensies return to the train platform where they were waiting to catch two different trains: one to the boys' school and one to the girls'. Peter and Susan can't talk through their complicated knot of loss and relief and confusion, can't console each other or offer answers to the question of "what now?". Edmund and Lucy can't share their own relief, their anxiety. Lucy can't cheer Peter up or ask him if losing Narnia can really be okay. Susan can't toss away Edmund's fears with calm logic when he's loses his temper at bullies and fears he's slipping back into old ways, or listen to him tell her she's still brave and beautiful and important and safe even though everyone treats her as a child (a girl-child, at that) and the newspapers speak of war.

The ties binding them fray a little more, and a little more, and a little more. The next summer, Peter goes to study with the Professor. Their parents take Susan to America. Edmund and Lucy are sent to their aunt and uncle. They come back with tales of months at sea, of their friends Caspian and Reepicheep and Aslan. They are all Peter and Susan will ever get of Narnia again. Peter and Susan are the only ones who understand the pain Edmund and Lucy are now feeling, knowing they're never going back, the ones who teach them how to breathe through it until breathing no longer hurts.

It's not enough. Fray and fray and fray. Thread by thread. Susan works hard to live in this world Aslan told her to live in. What right has she to do otherwise? The other three cling to a duty handed to them by prophecy when they were children. What right have they to ignore that? They grow up. Three of them go to university or get jobs and probably move out. (Lucy did not. I'm trying to keep this neutral and not rant-about-how-much-I-hate- canon but I won't ignore that Lucy was seventeen when she died.) They drift apart.

Digory forms the "friends of Narnia". Peter, Edmund, and Lucy are united again, bound together by their shared experiences as they have ever been. It's not the same, Susan is not there, but it's enough.

(Extra painful fun fact! When I typed "Peter, " my phone suggested "susan" as the next word! I have typed "Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy" so often even my phone expects them to be a set! This is fine!)

The Last Battle, the train crash. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy die. Susan buries them, and there is no one left to understand all she is mourning. Her last link to a home she cannot bear to acknowledge aloud. The children she played with. The adults she saw them grow into. She knows what Lucy would look like grown, either because she still remembers Narnia and won't admit it or subconsciously somewhere inside her, but Lucy will never be twenty-three this time around.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy wait in "true" Narnia. Again, they dwell in magical splendour, and ache in their dreams. This time, they remember who they are missing. Still, they are surrounded by joy, and time does not seem very important anymore, so overall they are happy. (It's not the same, Susan is not there, but it's enough.) Susan lives and learns and mourns and makes her peace and comes to Narnia in her own time, the only one of them to grow old and the last to grow ageless. It's easy to forget sorrow, in that place; when Susan embraces her siblings, the only ones who understand how badly she has missed them are them, because they have missed her just the same. But now they are complete again, and that's all that matters.

#nova actually answers asks #the chronicles of narnia #pevensie siblings #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #prince caspian #the voyage of the dawn treader #the last battle #long post //#this got /so/ long i'm sorry #also halfway through it turned into an examination of the patterns of the pevensies' lives?#repeating and paralleling themselves and going back and forth and somehow forward or maybe sideways #lucy's dislike of bugs is canon #peter's dislike of wearing gray is not #capslock //

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divine-misfortune · 9 months

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stares at you with my bug eyes please do go on 👁👁

Oh boy! Okay super rambly!

The consent is dubious because its mostly covert...but Phantom ends up liking the idea of being corrupted into a fucktoy sooo.....

Idk what this is.

Don't talk to me-

Aether's amused by the new bug from the start. From first glance, those big dark eyes had his full attention. He likes to watch him move about the pack. It's curious the way he tries to fit himself in - like he's nervous that the spaces he steps into wont fit him snugly. Skittish, in a sense. Phantom startles easy, he finds him to shy away even easier, always toeing the outside.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with Phantom. Between the hours in the practice room and the long evenings slaving away in the infirmary, Aether realizes the fresh summon is practically glued to him. It's endearing, but more importantly it piques his interest. It feels like he is the only one Phantom doesn't skirt around, he's not afraid to be alone with him. A silent room doesn't feel like a time bomb.

And truthfully he doesn't mind his company. He's sweet, and oblivious.

When Aether probes about his experience with quintessence, Phantom flushes and sheepishly admits how little he understands it which was to be expected. If not for Omega, Aether would have been clueless to the power that he had just at his fingertips. And this gift was not something to be squandered. Aether smiles, promises in time he'll be quite familiar and well versed in the subject. The little ghoul seems so happy, eager even. Phantom doesn't even seem to notice the dark flicker in his mentor's eyes.

And Aether, always one to keep his promises, does as he said he would.

He starts slow, always preferring to play with his food before he opts to strike.

Little touches; his arm, the back of his neck, just above his tailbone. Always just a soft graze, a small dose of magic here and there. Not enough to really impair any senses, not yet at least, just enough to make him shudder. Give him a taste of it as well as jump starting the dormant quintessence inside him, waking up a hidden beast.

And then it's the whispers. He speaks low and softly against Phantom's ear, voice laced with honey and a touch of rum to stick to the inner walls of his skull but leave his head spinning all the same. It's delicious seeing Phantom's shoulders start to relax, hearing his breath start to deepen, watching him struggle to finish his train of thought and begin to space out. It does something to Aether to watch his influence seep in without resistance. If he were a lesser man he'd give into need, slip his hand into his boxers, and blatantly take pleasure in how he could just steal the thoughts right out of his pretty little head.

The first time he truly slips into Phantom's brain is something he'll never forget. The little ghoul looked so confused when Aether ran his fingers through his hair, when his touch left his scalp tingling. He makes a confused sound that fades off as it all washes over him. He melts at the smallest dose and Aether is giddy to press into his mind, probe and see what makes him tick. And oh does he find it...Phantom is a little pervert from all that he can see. Only makes it easier to dig in, to play off of what already exists.

Such a sweet thing. The little ghoul itches to be desired. Needs to be needed in a way that ached un his belly. The further he searches, the more he finds. What interests him in particular are the fantasies neatly tucked away somewhere shameful.

His mind is filth at its finest. Images of the other ghouls that even make him blush.

And lifting up that heavy head, he smiles sickly sweet at Phantom. Watches his unfocused eyes fight to stay open, his lips part, all of it. He's so beautifully empty.

Resistance is a locked door at best, nothing his nimble fingers couldn't pick open. Of course, there are brick walls that not even he dares to prod at. Even without a grasp on his own magic, Phantom could push back against this. Others had. But all he finds are spaces to push into. Somewhere in there, Phantom wanted this, to be stripped open and picked apart. He may have claimed an ache for control but his body begged to be made helpless.

Not to mention the quintessence stirring up inside him, Aether slipping in apparently fanned the flames of it. It mingled into his own influence. Allowed itself to be guided through Phantom's body to fill his head like fog.

Aether reached further and tugged him back for a minute. With his head above the proverbial water, Phantom trembles and breathes heavily. His eyes are wide. Aether tips his head.

"What...What the fuck was that?"

"Just a little taste of what we possess, bug." He lifts his face up, pets over his jaw with his thumb and waits for Phantom to shout. To fight. Anything. But the ghoul just sits there in his little embrace.

"Little?"

"Oh I can go much...Much deeper, darling. But I didn't have to push deep to see that depravity."

His skin heats under his hands and his grin might as well of split his face. Phantom swallows, grips the comforter beneath him, and oh he's yet to see him properly flustered before.

"You want so bad, don't you?"

"I do." He admitted softly, that shyness creeping back in. "See you all, all the time, gets to me. Want it to be me. Want to be wanted like that."

"Oh you sweet thing..." his tongue ran over the back of his teeth. "I can show you what they want, how to be a good boy for each of them, and how to make them all fold...Just say yes."

His reluctance is barely enough to crease his face. Doesn't last long enough. All it takes is a whisper of approval and Phantom is pushed beneath the water again. His eyes roll back the second fingers find his temples. It's enough to shove him down fully this time. To suspend his thoughts in that safe vacant place.

He'd be such a good toy by the time Aether finished feeding off those hidden lustful thoughts and slipped out of his mind. Perfectly insatiable and addicted to the pleasure of being nothing more than just that, a toy.

And Phantom would be grateful for it, Aether could feel it as he curled his fingers into his very being.

#void rambles #spicy tag #answered #nameless ghouls #aether ghoul #phantom ghoul #the band ghost

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delopsia · 1 year

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Flowers In November (4/4) Rhett x Reader

Word Count: 11,075 ♡‧₊˚ AO3 Cross-Post ♡⊹˚₊ Flowers In November Masterlist₊˚⊹♡ Warnings: Fem!Reader. Briefly mentioned abusive relationships (not involving reader), improper disposal of a horse's corpse, l-bombs, oral sex, physical and verbal altercations, blood, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of a firearm, lying to a police officer, multiple mentions of food and cooking.

Part 3 ♡⊹˚₊

The next morning is one of those days where Rhett has to be up before dawn, leaving you with a warm kiss and a promise to see you this evening. Always a promise, never anything less. Remarkably, you're not sore, only plagued by a dull ache, craving something to fill the emptiness you've been left with.

Your cowboy is happy to fix that problem for you, too.

God, you're worse than the jackalopes that appeared for the spring season. Raring to go at the drop of a hat, pouncing on him when he walks in the front door sweaty, those veins in his arms bulging, hardly able to keep your hands off one another. Rhett bends you over the truck's hood at least twice, ties your hands up with a new rope, and makes you beg to cum.

You catch him in the field once, sinking to your knees and suckling on his thick head until he's oversensitive and jolting away from your tongue. But he moans so pretty; you're unsure if you're addicted to his sound or the weight of his cock in your mouth.

"Are you sure you don't—hah!" Rhett whimpers as you swallow around him, barely able to stifle the sound, "you sure ya don't have a thing for doin' this?" Nose pressing into his belly, you hum, and that's enough of an answer.

On the anniversary of your first month together, Rhett builds that chicken coop, taking you all the way out to get those little Kettles. Four seems to be enough for just the two of you, two black, one white, and one a speckled white and brown. Poor fella looks like she's been spray painted.

"They sure are talkative," you muse on the way home, peeking into their box. They're all confused; it sounds like a dozen tiny kettles are boiling over.

"You'd be talkative too if a man picked you up and shoved you in a box," that wink...you're not sure if that's a suggestion or just a joke.

A part of you wants to find out.

Conveniently, you don't tell Rhett about the picture you take of him sitting in the coop with the nervous babies collected in his lap. That one can be your little secret.

Sometime in late Spring, Nyx wakes you up. Whistling various notes, high and low. Going on and on until you crawl out of bed to peek out the window.

There's nothing there, not that you can see, but she's never sounded the alarm without good reason. Whatever it is, it can't be seen from the house. You're not thrilled about it, but you tug on some shoes and head out the front door.

"What's got you so bugged?" Asking as you step off the porch like she can formulate a reply. And then you see it.

A snake.

The little fella has innocently wandered into the driveway for some sunlight. Bright green, perfect for blending in with the miles of endless grass. Nyx, however, does not see it that way, and there's no convincing her otherwise. Her ruckus gets Isabela's attention, nickering from further down the pasture by the cattle.

What in the world is Rhett doing down there?

From here, it's difficult to tell, but the cattle are scattering like they're being divided by something. That something could only be your cowboy, but why?

There is only one way to solve this mystery.

You walk down there.

Nyx doesn't follow, too dead-set on the offending reptile to do much else. A part of you hopes the little fella doesn't pass the fence because he certainly won't come back out alive. Not if the household menace has anything to do with it.

Getting closer doesn't bring you any answers, only more questions. Rhett's chasing the babies around, Isabela watching with visible amusement. Whatever this is, it must be normal because the mommas don't bother stopping him.

Entertained, you stop next to Isabela, petting her thick neck. Rhett takes a while to realize you've joined him, darting in and out of the cattle, trying and failing to catch a calf that refuses to be captured. Stopping short when he sees you, letting the poor thing run further into the herd.

"How long have you been standin' here?" Slinking over to you for a kiss, addicted to the core.

"Long enough," you're thankful he doesn't touch you with his muddy hands; you've had enough of scrubbing that off your cheeks. "What are you terrorizing the babies for?"

He bites his lip, glancing back toward the cattle, "I think it'd be best if I showed you."

And then it's back to haunting that poor newborn.

Back and forth they go, but this time, Rhett's taken his lasso. The baby successfully dodges his first swing, but the second catches the little guy around the neck. You wonder why he didn't just use that, to begin with.

Raising his hand in the air, Rhett motions for you to come over.

The little baby is rightfully terrified, but Rhett's notably careful not to touch it just yet, even if doing so would make this easier.

Right before your eyes, the strangest thing happens.

Rhett places one bare hand on the calf's back, and lights appear. Tiny, gold in color, dancing out from under his fingertips, swirling and tangling together as they run up to the calf's forehead. Spiraling on its head, creating tiny golden circles on either side of its head, right above the ears.

The bright spots fade, leaving tiny bumps of gold in their place.

Horns.

Golden horns.

"Did you just?" Sputtering. "You can do that?"

"It's some generational thing," nonchalant; Rhett lets the baby loose, watching as it retreats to the safety of its mother. "I touch a cow, and it sprouts golden horns; Perry reaches into a river, and out comes a kelpie."

Glancing toward the house to see what your kelpie is up to, "is that how Nyx came about?"

"Most likely, yeah," reaching into his pocket, he produces a golden horn, broken off on the end; one of these cows must not be having a good day, "gotta take this into town later, y'wanna come?"

Considering your last ventures out of the house... "I'd love to."

It's a date.

That afternoon, you find yourself perched in the passenger seat, gazing out the window as Rhett drives. By now, you've become familiar with this variant of town, but you still miss how lively yours was. The soft yellow lights, quiet atmosphere, and the scattering of mom-and-pop stores. Homey. Especially when compared to the many commercial businesses that occupy these buildings, banks, and office supplies stores. Everything here is owned by a big-name company.

You hate that every time you come here, you leave missing your old world.

"Would you ever come to my world?" You find yourself asking, gazing at Staplers, a variant of Staples that lies on the corner. In your variant, a bank occupied the space.

"I wouldn't mind visiting," flicking the turn signal, he turns left.

"I mean more like..." Maybe you should have phrased that differently, "coming to live there with me."

His hand squeezes the steering wheel a little tighter, but it's not out of anger or discomfort. More from thought, his brain's only way of decompressing as it works double time. "I'm not sure, to be honest with you," he says after a moment, "I want to say yes, but I don't...I've never left Wabang for longer than a day before."

If only life were your fantasy world, you'd sew these universes together and live happily ever after.

The store he's looking for is a small, pristine jewelry store that closely mirrors the one from your world. Aside from the name and employees, it's identical. Same jewelry, same cases, same gumball jar in the window. Next to it lies a short leather necklace bearing an antiqued golden disc and a sign. 'Guess how many gumballs are in the jar for a chance to win this necklace.'

Deja vu is hitting you like a freight train.

You played this same game with your mom in November, trying to win her this necklace. Only the disc was silver rather than copper.

How many were in there again?

"You tryin' your luck over there?" Rhett chirps, amused by your focus. You bet that necklace would look pretty on him.

Picking up the pen and a slip of paper, you fill it out. If you're remembering correctly, there should be three hundred forty gumballs. "Can't hurt to try," and you slide your entry into the box.

Only time will tell if you win.

Based on what the salesman tells you, this store gets most of its gold from Rhett's cattle. Crafting shiny gold rings and carefully designed necklaces, there's a matching earring set for everything they make. Most of it you wouldn't personally wear, even if it were gifted to you.

But in the corner of the case, there's a dainty ring bearing your favorite arrangement of stones. Perfect in every way, shape, and form. It's like someone peeked into your mind and crafted your ideal ring.

Rhett's watching your movements, finding entertainment in how you take it all in. "Do you see somethin' you want?"

Not for that price tag, you don't. You'd say as much too, but the salesman is coming back with a check. Your heart is thankful you don't see how much they pay him; you fear you'd faint depending on the amount. Their exchange is brief, so used to the routine that they only need a little talking.

"Baby," his hand comes to rest on the small of your back, "you sure you don't want that ring?"

You want it. God, you want it. But you could buy a used car for the price of this thing.

"I don't need it," stepping away from the case before you impulsively change your mind, "was just looking."

That ring stays in the back of your mind for a while.

You never intentionally think about it, simply coming up in passing. On one of your movie nights, the guy proposes to his girlfriend, and you wonder how you'd feel if he did it with that ring. It's too early to marry the cowboy, but your daydream is lovely.

A fantasy proposal from the perfect guy with an equally perfect ring.

"Watcha daydreamin' 'bout?" Kissing your temple, Rhett drags you back into reality. How long has the movie been over?

Unwilling to share your self-indulgent thoughts, you offer up your best alternative, "world domination."

You've never seen him roll his eyes so hard.

In the middle of May, a package arrives in the mailbox, mysteriously addressed to you. Rhett doesn't see it; you've long since hijacked the chore of checking the mail, eager for any excuse to take Nyx out for a stroll. The sender's address is unfamiliar, but you're met with something you recognize when you tear it open.

That goddamn necklace.

"Do you think Rhett would like this for his birthday?" You ask Nyx, receiving little of a response. It's close, maybe three weeks at best.

Of all days, Rhett picks today to approach you on your trip back from the mailbox. You have to stuff the package beneath your bra to keep him from seeing it.

"Slight change in plans, darlin'," he grunts, wiping the sweat from his brow, "my dad wants to see us."

Oh boy.

Meeting him halfway for a kiss; it's customary by now. "Do you know what for?"

Rhett can only shrug, "I haven't the slightest clue."

He holds on to Nyx's reins as you run inside to put away the mail, the only thing stopping her from attempting to follow you inside. These aren't the circumstances you hoped to come home to; rushing around the house to find a place to hide this necklace. He'll find it above the fridge, and there's no way you can get away with hiding it under one of the couches. You feel like a chicken with its head cut off.

Beneath the mattress is the only valid option. Whoever looks down there, anyway?

"Did ya get lost?" Is the first thing you hear when you step back outside.

"Took a wrong turn and ended up in Canada," sarcasm dripping from your tone as you climb back onto Nyx's back.

Like a puppy, Rhett's head cocks to the side, "Canada?"

Wait.

"Is there...not a country named Canada north of us?" You're not sure how to go about this. Does this world not have a Canada?

Rhett's eyes meet yours.

He crumbles.

His shoulders quaking with his laughter, so wildly proud of himself that he can hardly contain it. But, God, you could shove him off his horse.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," he simpers, looking oh so pleased with himself, "I couldn't help myself." Who could have expected that he had such a sense of humor?

You reckon it's from all those sunburns he's garnered.

"You'd better hope you don't wind up in my home world for a day," carrying that same energy he did, "I'd never let you know a moment's peace."

"I haven't known peace since you told me about the square pizza boxes," grimacing at the mention of those boxes, "how are you meant to play box-frisbee with a square?"

Some of you would like to argue that sane people don't play frisbee with pizza boxes.

The ride to his parent's home feels short now that you've done it so many times. Nyx knows the routine so well that she requires no direction; you reckon she could do it with her eyes closed. Sidling up to the gate so you can open it, mirroring the act when it comes time to push it closed again.

She does not, however, like the farm hand that comes to take her and Isabela into the paddock.

"She's gonna bite that boy one day," Rhett observes as you head in through the side door.

"Probably," but what can you do about an angry kelpie? Perry doesn't even mess with her.

Nobody is in the kitchen. Or the five dining rooms or the two living rooms. Wandering up and down the endless hallways, peeking into every room you come across. It's a wonder how this is only a house for two people. Who needs so many bedrooms and two massive libraries?

Upstairs brings you little luck, but at least you find Rhett's childhood bedroom by yourself. It wasn't there the last time, but now an old stuffed dog sits on the foot of the bed, barely capable of standing on its own.

"Is this your stuffed animal?" You ask when he steps into the room.

Rhett grins at the sight of the old thing, "yeah, that's Toast."

The name fits the little guy perfectly. A light brown body with dark brown feet and a spot on his left eye. Visibly loved, its fur matted and missing in places.

"I almost feel bad for defiling his home like we did," every time you look at this little twin bed, you remember that night, especially what happened the morning after.

There's no need for you to look to know that Rhett's cheeks are heating up; you can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Arms wind around your waist, burying his hot face into the back of your neck.

Bad move. Now you can grind your ass into him without effort, and his mouth is so close to your ear that it's impossible to miss that sharp inhale.

"Darlin', we don't have time." Maybe there isn't enough time to get him in you, but there's always time for...

In the blink of an eye, you turn and sink to your knees, nuzzling your cheek against the rapidly growing hardness beneath that zipper. Hands plant themselves on the dresser behind you, grasping onto the wood for dear life. Rhett's looking at you like you've grown a second head, but that eager grin cannot be easily washed away.

"Alright, you little monster," he breathes, "have it your way."

Gladly.

You're wondering if he will ever turn down a blowjob by this point. The closest thing to a no was the time you leaned over the bench seat of his truck during a long drive, and even then, he didn't say no. Instead, merely asked you to hold on until he could pull over on the side of the road.

The zipper of these jeans is finicky, the end of the pull tab has broken off, making it particularly difficult for you to get ahold of. Your nails can barely get around the edges, pulling it down until you've enough space to reach in.

One of these days, you'll take up sewing and fix this damn thing since Rhett refuses to throw them out.

He jumps when your hand closes around him, muttering something about your fingers being a little cold, but that doesn't stop him from twitching in your palm. Thick in your hand, already half-hard by the time you free him from those briefs. Rapidly reddening around that mushroom head, begging you to run your tongue along the underside.

"Goddamn," hissing under your teasing touch, "that feels good, baby, but I don't think we have ti—hah~!"

Your lips stretch wide around his length as you take him into your mouth, suckling softly on his head. There's already an ache blooming in your jaw, still sore from being stretched around his cock yesterday afternoon. Downright addicted to his heaviness on your tongue, to how his breath catches when you hollow your cheeks around him.

Those strong hips of his struggle to remain still; even as you take hold of them and try to force them still, they manage to wriggle. Slow at first, adjusting to the angle and working up a rhythm, pointing your tongue to massage the thick vein running along the underside of his cock. Rhett reaches behind himself, patting the bed until he finds something.

You can't believe what you've just witnessed.

"Did you just turn the dog around?" Popping off of him just long enough to speak, jaw feeling like jelly.

His hand falls to the back of your head, impatiently coaxing you back down onto him, "Toast doesn't need to see this."

This time, you've warmed up, a little more confident about sinking further down, until that dripping head reaches the back of your throat. It's difficult to suppress your gag reflex, but there's nothing better than the pitchy whimper that blesses your ears.

"Baby, baby," he stammers, struggling to keep himself from squirming right out of your mouth, "your throat, fuck."

Drawing back, you take a deep breath through your nose and sink right back down. Forcing your throat to relax as that familiar cock nudges the back of it, bordering discomfort. All of that is rewarded by those little whispered praises showered upon you like rain. How are your reflexes meant to bug you when Rhett's eyes flutter like that? Mouth falling open, soft moans dripping off his tongue.

Downstairs, a door slams, and familiar voices echo about the house.

Royal and Cecelia are here.

Writhing, Rhett tries to step back, but you plant your hands on his ass, holding him there. You're not down here for nothing. It only lets you pay attention to that leaking slit, flicking your tongue against it while he tries to escape the feeling.

"Parents are—" cut off by a strangled noise when you sink further down again, "my parents are h-here."

Stubborn, you go on, don't plan on stopping unless he directly tells you to. His body jolts like a live wire when you hum around him, acknowledging his issues, offering no solution. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision, but they're nothing more than obstacles.

Your nose touches the soft skin of his lower belly; Rhett clamps his spare hand over his mouth, the other gripping the back of your head as tight as he can without hurting you. Later, your voice will be absolutely destroyed, but there's no backing out now.

Here he is. Your big cowboy whimpering into his own palm as you suck him off in his childhood bedroom. Helpless to do nothing but take it.

Drawing back a bit, you swallow around him, completely, utterly mesmerized by how he trembles from it. Then it's back to working your mouth over his length, up and down, deep strokes reaching your throat. Never giving him a chance to recover from the last.

Even the hand over his mouth cannot fully muffle those sweet little whines slipping through the gaps of his fingers. Chest heaving like he's run a mile, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. That swollen cock twitches, forcing you to pull back before you gag.

He's close.

And it's back to paying attention to his tip, working the rest of him with your hand. One deep inhale. Two. Three. All you need is one more flick of your tongue against the underside of that head, and he cums, filling your mouth and painting your pretty lips with it. You're thankful that he came once this morning; otherwise, there would be much more to deal with.

Poor Rhett looks like he's just come from another planet, eyes half-lidded and dopey as he pulls you up to your feet. Shamelessly kissing the cum off your lips, in that cozy, post-orgasm neediness of his.

"Can't tell if you're an angel," kissing you again, "or a fucking menace."

You like to think you're both.

By the time you get back out into the hallway, Royal's stepping onto the floor, looking back and forth like he's looking for something. That something must be the two of you because he quits looking around when his eyes land upon your frames.

"Sorry if we kept y'all waitin'," motioning down the opposite direction of the hallway, "follow me; I need to show you something."

There's another study hidden at the end of the corridor, identical to the multitude of others that you saw downstairs. Only this one looks lived in. The shelves full of books, an enormous mahogany desk covered in knick-knacks, and miscellaneous papers with too many words.

Rhett's quiet next to you, toying with your knuckles. Too quiet.

Royal doesn't notice it, too busy flipping through a small book the size of your palm. Looking for something specific, but he struggles to read the tiny inscriptions that sprawl about the pages. Then he stops. Flicks back a page.

"I know about the hole that brought you here."

You'd rather if he walked over and decked you right in the face. "What?"

"It's a wormhole that can only be opened with the flower that it is connected to," placing a sticky note on the page, he hands the book to you, recounting the lore like it's everyday gossip, "you need the flower to go back home."

The book is tiny in your trembling hand, but the words on the page recount everything Royal told you. The flower is like a key; to go back, you need it to open the wormhole.

But there's a catch.

Rhett's already asking the question burning in the back of your mind, "and you couldn't have told her this before?"

"Because the last thing your mother needs to hear—"

"—hear what, Royal?"

How long has Cecelia been behind you?

Her frail body trembles like a leaf as she steps past you, not with distress, though. "What is the last thing you think I need to hear?"

Royal is silent.

"You two should head home," she continues when her husband refuses to yield, "I don't want you to be a part of this."

You and Rhett need no further instruction, scampering out the door like a pair of rodents. The door shuts before their argument continues, muffling whatever expletives Cecelia has to say to her husband. In your hand, the notebook feels like it weighs a million pounds, heavy to look at.

This whole time, you could have gone home.

"Are you okay?" Rhett asks at the bottom of the stairs.

"I don't know," it pains you to say it.

The book tells you that you could have gone back home simply by placing the flower petals on the ground. No spells, no stress required. This entire time. You could have been home. Your mother wouldn't be worried sick about what could have happened to you. Fuck, they probably think you're dead by now.

You could have dropped the flower on the ground that night, and you would have gone right back home.

Strong hands grip your arms, thumbs soothing circles into your skin; you're not sure when Rhett stepped in front of you, but he's here. Gazing into your eyes, searching for any scrap of emotion that can tell him what's happening and how he can help. Your lips are moving, trying to formulate words that no longer exist.

"It's not much, but...do you want a hug?" That watery smile suggests he might need one himself.

Yeah. Yeah, you think you'd like that.

The feeling of Rhett's arms around you never changes; you never want it to. Warm, cradling you into him as if you're made of glass, neck welcoming you as you bury your face into it. Where he smells the most like him. Rhett Abbott smells like petrichor and fresh-cut hay with the faintest bit of leather. All those things dancing together as old lovers do, well-versed in their craft, gracing you with such perfection that it makes your heart flutter.

You don't know what you would do without this man.

This big ruse of Royal's has cost you everything you have ever known. Your old life, family, home, everything you have ever known.

But it's given you something in return.

It's given you a chance to meet a man you would never have. A blue-eyed cowboy with his three-headed mare and a heart full of more gold than his cattle could ever produce. And you wouldn't trade it for the world.

And maybe that's why you're not as destroyed about this as you think you should be. Because your life, your home, is right here in your arms. It may not be perfect or how you wanted it to come about, but as you dissolve into laughter over Nyx's whistling and a farm hands mortified squeal, you know that this is where you belong.

"How's about we head home before Nyx eats that stableboy?" You've been spending too much time with Rhett; you're starting to talk like he does.

He catches it too, grins from ear to ear like a fool, "you sound mighty fine with my accent comin' out in ya'."

If he does that again, you think you might be sick.

That's all made up for when he serves as your personal guide to getting out of this maze of a home. Maps need to be posted on the end of every hallway, telling you where you are and where the closest exit is because, good lord, you do not know where you're going. The shortcut Rhett chooses leads you straight through the living room, where Cecelia sat you down and told you about Rhett's 'past.'

By the door sits that picture frame containing the old pressed flower, brown with age. Color barely clings to its petals, a hint of something purple.

"Rhett?" He stops, eyebrows raising, ready for your question, "what's this flower?"

"All I know is that ma's had it since before I was born," carefully reaching down to slide it out of harm's way, "and she'll skin me alive if I break the frame playing baseball again."

Little Rhett playing baseball. That's quite an image.

"Can you even catch a ball?" Teasing, as you follow him through the kitchen, you can already see Isabela and Nyx.

"Hardly," winking, "but I sure can catch a woman."

Do you have to resist elbowing him after he opens the door for you?

Yes.

Yes, you do.

You don't know how long you spend staring at this tiny notebook at home. With its two pages of instruction and little to no detail. 'Place the flower on the ground to go back, but know that you may only use the key once.'

It sits on the nightstand for days on end. Waiting to be picked up, reread, and placed back down in a fit of confusion and heartache. Your old life, but at the cost of Rhett and everything you've come to know.

What's worse, you still have no idea where the flower went. Nor do you know who took it from the vase while you were gone. You hate to admit it, but you've forgotten about that old purple flower and the others that sprouted that November.

Who could've thought that flowers at the end of November would have caused all this?

Your decision isn't much of one, all things considered, but it comes to you in the simplest of things.

There's a morning when you wake up alone. Not an uncommon feat, considering Rhett's lifestyle and your unofficial spoiled housewife status, but there's something different about this morning compared to all the others. Rhett's fumbling around in the kitchen, swearing up and down as something sizzles angrily on the burner.

The aroma gracing your nose is familiar, but you're too sleepy to identify it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," like a magician, Rhett appears in the doorway, balancing a wooden tray, "keep that cute ass in bed, Missy."

It's not until he places it in your lap that you realize what he's done.

"You made me breakfast?" God, you feel like you're dreaming; your voice doesn't sound familiar.

"You make it for me all the time," he beams, kissing your cheek, "figured I'd return the favor."

The toast is slightly burnt, and the bacon could have been cut into smaller pieces before he cooked it, but it's breakfast. He's arranged the two eggs and the bacon to create a smiley face; you can't wait for the Kettles to start laying, so you don't have to resort to the store-bought ones.

And it's this.

You could wake up to this every day for the rest of your life and never get tired of it. You want to wake up next to Rhett every day for the rest of your life. You want to walk out that door every morning and be alarmed by the sound your new chickens make, to roll your eyes at Nyx and the things she gets up to.

You make it a point to ride over and leave the notebook on Royal and Cecelia's front porch. No words, no confrontation needed. It wasn't your decision to come here, but it's your decision to stay.

The necklace stays hidden below the bed for weeks.

Every so often, you take it out and run it through your hands, wondering if Rhett's going to like this. It feels like there needs to be more, though. Not personalized enough to be capable of standing on its own as a special gift.

What starts out as a list of ideas turns into days of rewriting the same letter over and over again. Never written the same, but always recounting all the little things, all the reasons why you're so hopelessly...

in love with him.

Those three words still feel foreign, uncharted territory that has yet to be explored. Or, maybe you've been exploring that dark, haunting forest this entire time and are now opening your eyes to it. The letters never feel perfect. In the moment, they are masterpieces written by the greatest scholars to have ever lived. But, the next day, they might as well be the ramblings of a drunkard.

Rhett's not helping your nerves, either, because he starts to act strange a few days before his birthday.

It's hard to miss the sound of his truck starting that morning; he returns midday. You don't think much of it until he tells you he was out looking for a specific supplement for Isabela. The thing is, you were with him when he bought four bags of it last week. Isabela may have three mouths, but she doesn't go through her supplements that quickly.

You've only got another day to write this letter; tomorrow is his birthday, but you've got nothing. You can't focus when Rhett is an hour late coming home again. Beat-up pickup missing from the driveway, and he's not answering his phone.

The necklace sits on top of your stack of discarded papers, menacing, taunting you simply by being there. It's as if it's read every word and knows the solution you're seeking but refuses to share.

Should have never entered the game for this damn thing.

When the front door squeaks open, the sun is halfway set, bathing the house in a plume of orange and red. "Sweetie?"

You don't want to acknowledge Rhett's presence, but you have no choice. The last thing you need is for him to come looking for you and find this necklace a day early. He's idling in the doorway, thumbs tucked into his pockets, afraid to walk across the clean floor with his boots on.

"You're awfully late," trying your best to sound upset.

Rhett fiddles with the ripped brim of his hat, "I know," taking it off, he motions toward the door, "I...have something to show you."

Truly, you don't know what the hell to say. Something to show you?

Despite the warm weather and summer right around the corner, you have to fetch a jacket and some shoes. There are a handful of jackets on your side of the closet, but you reach for one of Rhett's instead. Recently worn, still carries his cologne like a badge of honor.

Patiently, he waits for you in the kitchen, still toying with that tear on his beloved hat.

"You're fixin' to make that tear worse," you tease, stepping into your shoes, "and neither of us has the means to fix it."

"It's just a hat," at least, that's what he's telling himself; Cecelia's let it slip that it was an eighteenth birthday present from his old buddies. Of course, it's more than just a hat.

Outside looks no different.

You're expecting a new chicken coop or a third horse, but nothing has changed. Isabela grazes in the field like always; Nyx has her head submerged in the water trough, blowing bubbles. There are still four chickens; the barn doors are closed. Nothing is out of the ordinary.

Aside from one thing, Rhett's truck is inside the fence.

"Is it something down in the field?" Clearly, it must be something involving it since that's where you're headed.

Rhett winks at you, "you'll see."

There's takeout in the passenger seat, the name on the bag oh so familiar. Miss Molly's. But that isn't all of it; there's a second bag, unmarked, but you recognize it from the cafe the two of you visited when you first met. Still, you receive no explanation on what's going on or how he got this without you noticing. All he does is drive.

"Is this what you've been up to all week?" The silence is killing you, forcing you to voice your curiosities.

His eyelashes flutter like butterflies, fighting a smile. A light appears in the distance.

Oh.

Just below the hill lies a neatly laid-out blanket, surrounded with little golden lights and two big food trays that he's snuck out of your kitchen. Fake candles scatter around it, their artificial lights dancing like real ones. Wine glasses rest on the food trays next to a bottle of wine that looks far too out of place for a backyard picnic. Completed by a picture-perfect view of the sunset, the ocean of water on Perry's pasture shimmers with the sun's reflection.

"What...do you think?" Rhett squirms in his seat, your stunned silence driving him into unease. So this is what he's been planning all along. There aren't enough words in the English language to comprehend how much you love this.

But your smile.

Your smile is enough.

Slowly, Rhett starts to chuckle, "yeah?" God, he looks so proud of himself.

"I love it," and with that said, you lean right over and steal a kiss from his lips.

In the time it takes you to settle down on the blanket, Nyx's ghostly figure appears on the horizon, her ghostly figure moseying her way down to join you. No haste to her step, simply out for her leisurely stroll to see what you're doing.

"I have to admit," tapping the wine bottle with his fingernail, "I have no idea where this came from, but it was above the fridge."

You've never seen it either, but it looks like the kind of wine that costs a limb or two. The label tells you that only two thousand bottles were produced, but its history is written in a language you don't recognize. A gift from dear old mom and dad?

He's remembered your orders right down to the tiniest of details. Sauce, additives, sides, everything. You almost feel bad. You only remember what he got from Miss Molly's because you tasted it when you kissed him that evening.

"Thank you for doing this," you chirp in between bites of your pastry, finally beginning to process it.

Next to you, Rhett lights up brighter than the setting sun, but only briefly, because he's evidently forgotten something. "There's one more thing," patting his pockets brings up nothing, "shit, wait, did I leave it in that jacket?"

Cautious, you reach into the pockets of the jacket you're wearing. There's something heavy on your right, a smooth and cold object in your hand. Another broken horn.

"Nope, but that must be where I misplaced that thing," babbling to himself, Rhett rechecks his pockets, searching through all the nooks he can find. He's just beginning to stand when he spots it; a little blue box sitting in the grass behind him. "Close your eyes for me?"

Obedient, your eyes close, struggling to remain that way when he takes your hand. All you can focus on is how hot his palm is, burning up with an invisible flame.

"I know this isn't much, but..." he pauses, audibly licking his lips, "I want you to have this." Something cold settles into your hand. "So that every time you look at your finger, you remember."

Big hands curl around your cheeks, coaxing your eyes open. All you see is him, messy hair, and those ocean blues that never fail to wash you away in their beauty. The dainty object in your palm is long forgotten; you can't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from him.

Is this real?

"I can't imagine a day in my life without you," his voice breaks, gradually becoming watery, "and I promise you that as long as my heart's still beatin', I'm gonna be there." With every word, he shakes a little harder, trembling just like your quivering heart is.

Pushing your noses together, those final words tumble off his tongue, "I love you," breath hitching, "and ain't nothin' in this world can get between that."

It's the ring. The one you'd been staring at when you visited the jewelry store a few months ago. Even tinier now that it's in your hand, shining with the light of the sunset.

He went back and got it for you.

"Rhett," it's all you can say, tongue suddenly heavy, vision becoming blurry as something wet runs down your cheek.

But in typical Rhett fashion, he doesn't need words to understand what you're trying to tell him. Instead of waiting for you to force words off your lips, he kisses that tear off your cheek. One, two, three, four kisses that eventually lead up to your forehead.

He saves the best one for your lips, something borderline fragile that soothes the quiver in your bones; this is just you and Rhett, after all. There's no need to be so nervous.

The ring slides onto your chosen finger perfectly. You've got a sneaking suspicion that he must have measured your finger while you were asleep because nothing fits this well.

A large nose presses into the side of your head.

"Nyx!" Squealing, you push her nose away; how long has she been there?

"She's been tryin' to sneak up for a while now," Rhett's comment garners the mare's attention, turning her nosiness on him. Not even his cowboy hat can stop her from shoving her nose into the side of his head, knocking it clean off.

Here you have this perfect sunset and a picnic, and Nyx is terrorizing your cowboy.

There is only one way to memorialize this; you fish out your phone and take a picture.

"Wow," feigning hurt, "and you're not fixin' to save me? What next, y'gonna take my hat too?" Well, now that he mentions it...

Those eyes roll so far back that you can hardly see his pupils; his hat is still too big for your head, but you can see the appeal of these things.

As quickly as she had arrived, Nyx heads off, bothered by something further up the fence line. Probably that snake again. The little dude has set up camp here, and she's taken it personally.

The ring feels strange on your finger, your body not entirely adjusted to the sensation of it yet. You can't wait for a day when you feel odd without it on. There are so many details in the design, things you could barely see in the showcase; the longer you look at it, the giddier he becomes.

"I thought I was gonna explode when I had to hide it from ya'," he admits, popping the cork from the wine bottle.

"You're a horrible liar," holding your glass out so he can pour it easier, "buying supplements that you just got? Really?" Maybe it's your teasing that drives him to take the first sip, immediately making a face. Surely it can't be that bad.

"Heurgh," holding the glass as far away as you can get it, "that should have stayed on the fridge." It tastes like alcohol and cheap, grape-flavored medicine. The kind that's meant to taste good but feels like a personal insult once it touches your tongue.

Rhett's beyond words, face scrunched, "cheap beer would have been a better move."

Hooves thunder across the ground, a shrill hiss rippling through the air, livid. Nyx stops next to you. Her ears lay flat against her neck. Hissing for as long as her massive lungs will allow.

"Autumn?" Abruptly, Rhett stands, "how many times have I told you not to come onto my property?"

Autumn stands halfway down the hill. Frozen stiff now that you've laid eyes on her. The only thing that moves is the hair on her head, blowing idly in the wind.

And then she smiles. Toothy. "I found something that I believe belongs to you."

Reaching into her pocket, she produces a notebook. Suspiciously similar to the one you returned to Royal a few weeks ago. Nyx fusses loudly as she heads down the hill, holding out the notebook for you to take.

Your fingers close around it, but she doesn't let go.

Her eyes meet yours, "you don't belong here."

Purple hits you in the face.

What?

Blinking, you rub at your face, brushing whatever she threw onto the ground. She's already halfway up the hill, heading back to where she came from.

Overhead, thunder rolls, small waves rippling through Perry's pond. How long have those heavy clouds been up there? Surely they weren't there this entire time...right?

"You alright?" Rhett's asking, dusting something from your shoulders, "what are these? Flower petals?"

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as an invisible gate squeals open, deep, heavy. Bringing with it the rain. Heavy. Thick sheets of white that beat against you with such incredible force that it hurts. Wind howling like coyotes, whipping around your bodies. A hurricane in the blink of an eye.

Flower petals.

Purple flower petals.

"She opened up the hole." Your voice feels detached. Like it's already been sucked away.

As if burned by the ground, you jump away from where the petals lie. A black goo bubbles up from beneath the Earth. Rhett's got ahold of you, pulling you back toward the safety of the fence line, away from it. Neither of you can speak. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

Lightning strikes the ground beside you, an ear-splitting crack ringing out.

"I've got you, I've got you," Rhett's pulling you into him, barely audible over the wind, rain, and the angrily splashing waves from Perry's side of the fence. Even the Kelpies dislike it. Fleeing the waters. Whistling. Hissing.

Hands tremble as you cling to his body, holding him tightly. You can see the hole. A dark pit opening up from the ground. Widening. Feels like it's coming toward you.

"Please don't let go of me," quivering like a leaf, you squeeze as close to Rhett as possible.

"'m not gonna let you go," he promises, stepping further down the fence line, away from the hole, "I promise, baby, you're not goin' anywhere."

The candles that sit by your picnic spot are the only indication of where you are, faithfully glowing. The rain is so thick that you can hardly see a few inches from your face, even when Rhett's old hat blocks most of it, the water draining off it like a damn gutter. By your feet, water sloshes in from Perry's side, the tide rising angrily.

"It'll close," stepping in tandem with you, Rhett's a brick wall between you and the elements, shielding you from them, "we're okay; we're not close to it."

Gradually, the lights become closer, until finally, you're standing right on top of your ruined picnic. Shivering, squirming into Rhett's chest to escape the cold.

"We're okay," he repeats, blurring his face into your neck, "it can't get to us."

For a moment, your world goes dark, quiet.

Pain explodes in your back. Tumbling head over heels as something sweeps you off your feet. A tidal wave right off Perry's farm. Something sharp nips at your exposed skin, tangling around your legs. Lungs burning. You can't figure out which way is up or where you're moving.

Until something seizes you by the collar. Rips you up to the surface.

"Are you okay?" You hear Rhett before you see him. Gasping for air. Struggling to open your eyes. He's yelling your name. Capturing your attention.

On their own, your hands grab on. Grasping each other's forearms with everything you've got. Your right arm stings. You can't move it, don't know why.

"Rhett!" Fighting against what's latched onto you.

Your hands are slipping. Too wet. Too much movement.

"I'm not letting go," coughing, he grabs onto you with his spare hand, holding tight, "I promise."

Wriggling, your arm slips free of what's holding onto you. It stings. Fresh cuts oozing blood. You don't care. You're grabbing onto Rhett, and you're not letting go.

Again, you pull yourselves closer, fighting the water that has swallowed you up. There's so much of it. You can't see where it ends.

"See?" Rhett's wet nose bumps into your cheek, "what did I say?" He hasn't let you go.

This time, you see it before it hits. A large, towering wave aiming directly at you. Time seems to slow as it begins to fall, gravity carrying it back down. The light in Rhett's eye fades, face falling.

He knows.

You know.

Like a heavy fist, the wave strikes you. Rhett's got your wrist in an iron grip, bruising. Your nails claw at his skin, scrambling for more purchase. The water slips through your fingers, working its way into the gab.

It rips you apart.

And the wave carries you back under. A pair of invisible hands dragging you below the surface. You're too weak to fight it. No matter how hard you kick and flail. It only pulls you further down. Throwing your body around like a rag doll.

A whistle ripples through the water.

Nyx.

Her legs no longer look the same. Instead, they're a mass of vines. You can't see them, but you can feel them. Wrapping around you. Pulling you into her robust and sturdy body. She's turning around. Attempting to retreat to safety on dry land. But it's not enough. Darkness encompasses around your vision as you're momentarily thrust out of the water.

Rhett cries out your name.

and you

fall.

You think you might fall for the rest of your life.

The hole is silent, but your head is loud. Rhett's voice bounces around your skull like a spring. All you can hear is him crying your name. What once was mind-numbingly loud slowly becomes fainter.

No,

no,

no.

"Rhett?" You call out.

This is just a dream. This is all just a big, fucked up nightmare. You're still in bed. Rhett's right there with you. That's not Nyx. That's Rhett. That's him who's wrapped around you. Snuggling you into that big chest until you can wake up from this hell.

"Rhett!"

But he doesn't come.

He can't.

And then that strong gust of wind catches you, blowing you back toward a blinding light. You wish it were bringing you back to your cowboy. Your boyfriend. The man you're so, completely, utterly in love with.

But as Nyx's body starts to warp, muscles painfully contorting and bones clicking into place, you know you're not returning to that magical world. Her whiny is foreign, pitchy, and unlike any sound, she's ever made.

Rhett. Your home. Is gone forever.

All you see is green as you come crashing into it with a painful thunk. Nyx lands next to you, and for a moment, her pained squeal is enough to make you forget.

"Are you okay?" Rubbing her neck. She seems confused by her own noises but gets up to her feet all the same. Not minding any of her legs. Hasn't gone lame. She's okay. Wetly, something hits the ground nearby, startling both of you.

Rhett's hat.

Absolutely soaking wet, but it's his hat. Same tear and all. As you bend down to pick it up, you hear your name. And there, you see your mother's face for the first time in months.

You've been missing for nearly seven months. Not one person believes your story.

They try to take you to the hospital. You've disappeared without a trace and reappeared months later with a horse that nobody has seen before. Nobody hears your ramblings about a cowboy who doesn't exist; the girl stitching your wounds suggests drugs, but that doesn't explain Nyx. Or the cowboy hat that they so desperately want to admit as evidence.

Now, you realize that you got caught on Rhett's barbed wire fencing. Mauling your skin, some places require stitches, but you can hardly feel a scratch. How are you meant to pay attention to such a thing when your heart aches for a man out of reach? Who doesn't exist in this world?

Your mother doesn't know what to think when you retell her the events of the past couple of months. You don't think she believes you when you talk about the golden-hearted cowboy who took you in, who you slowly fell in love with. She tries bringing you to a doctor, but they tell her you're fine.

The phone in your pocket is the only indicator that you may be telling the truth. It carries the only images of Rhett that you have, the only proof of his existence. You can hardly look at them, the phone lying hidden in your bedside drawer. Every time you see his face, your heart begins to ache with something you can never soothe.

"This was the night before I came back," you try to tell her one afternoon. The image of Nyx with her nose shoved into Rhett's ear shines brightly on your screen, that big old smile on his face that you'll never see again.

It's the first time she's seen him, and she has no idea what to say. You suppose you can't blame her.

The horn that Rhett forgot in your pocket is a miracle in disguise. As much as it pains you to do it, you make the call to sell it for the gold. It sells for more than it's worth because it's connected to a missing persons case. Come to find out, bidders will do anything for a piece of mysterious history that isn't theirs.

With the money, you buy the house and the land around you. It may not be the Abbott ranch you knew, but you'll be damned if you don't try to keep it together. A few locals volunteer to help build a barn for Nyx; it's constructed a month after your return. With two stalls. One nameplate has the name Nyx inscribed on it, and the other, Isabela. Nobody understands the reference.

And that ring.

You wear it around your ring finger. To anyone who asks, you tell them you're married to a man named Rhett. He'd probably roll his eyes if he walked in and heard you saying that, but you don't know how to say that your heart may never belong to someone else. You know it to be true when a friend surprises you by bringing along a man she thinks you'll be interested in.

He's nice, but he's not Rhett. He doesn't take his shoes off at the front door because he doesn't want to muck up your floors. Doesn't enjoy your cooking as Rhett did; the way he looks at you is nothing compared to how your cowboy did.

Rhett's hat sits on a special holder mounted to your bedroom wall. It's bad luck, you know, but you always place it on the opposite pillow when you go to bed; it's the closest thing you'll get to having him. Bad luck cannot get to you when you've nothing to lose.

There are flowers in November.

When you go to bed, the backyard is nothing but green, not a thing to be astray.

This time, you don't mistake them for Autumn leaves because this time, your heart cannot be fooled by their tricky colors. A sea of red, yellow, and orange cover every inch of your property. The simple sight of them has your heart stopping in its tracks.

Nyx thinks they're lunch.

Your mother thinks it's crazy.

You hunt all afternoon, but you find no purple flower. Only yellow, red, and orange. "I don't suppose you would know why these flowers only come in November?" You ask your unruly mare as she munches away. The vet says they won't hurt her, but this consumption of her's feels excessive.

Her tail swishes, the closest to an 'I don't know' that you're going to get.

As the sun sets, you decide that a ride is in order. You just went out for one yesterday, but you justify it by telling yourself that you've got nothing to better to do. This ride has nothing to do with your selfish hope of finding another purple flower.

Briefly, you consider wearing Rhett's hat, but the last time you wore it, the damn thing blew clean off your head. Too big to fit. Instead, you squirm into his old jacket; it no longer smells like him, but wrapping yourself in it feels like being wrapped in his arms. Big. Warm. Secure.

Nyx fusses at you as you get her ready; it's still strange to hear her make such horse-like noises, but they're her new favorite thing. So excessively loud any chance she gets, always so excited to make some noise. Never quite sounds natural; her whinnies sound more like chirps.

You wish Rhett could be here to see you doing all this by yourself.

You take only one route; a worn-down trail of grass marks it. Give it a few years, and you may have a proper dirt path. Looping down where the fence line should be, heading straight for the North pasture, where that old rickety house lies.

Walking up to it is like walking up to an old friend. You know these walls better than you know yourself; can hear the secrets they tell. Nyx's ears never fail to prick at the sight of it. Of course, she would never admit it if she were a human, but you can tell she misses her friends too.

Even Rhett, though she probably hasn't forgiven him for the fireworks.

And then it's back down the driveway that doesn't exist, but you know it so well that you can almost see that path of dirt and rock. Following the road until you can locate the shortcut back to your home, just around where Royal and Cecelia's home should be.

These flowers cover every inch of the land like a big blanket. Nyx is determined to snatch a few bites; they must taste good; you'd give them a try if you didn't fear what they'd do to you. For all you know, eating too many may also turn you into a flower. It gets a little warm, forcing you to push your sleeves up.

Scarring sprawls across your right arm, where you became tangled in that barbed wire. The skin on your legs looks much of the same. The doctor says it'll fade with time, but you're not sure about that. Even the sight of it pains you, but your heart doesn't know if it wants them to stay or vanish forever.

Darkness has fallen by the time you get back. Nyx is ready for you to get off, eager to return to what she was doing before you interrupted.

"Will you hold on?" Nyx is so dead set on getting that saddle off that she's decided to start 'helping.' Reaching back to bite at what little she can grab. Asshole. Only serves to make your job harder because God forbid she gives you an easy day.

"There!" Throwing your hands up when you're done. "Are you happy now?"

Very, actually. She looks at you and darts out into the connected pasture, trotting along the fence line. All that fuss, and for what? To roll in the damn grass until she changes color again? Then she stops short; ears pricked as she stares toward your house. But there's nothing there; your porch light is bright enough to illuminate most of the backyard, and you don't see a damn thing.

Something thin swooshes through the air and falls around you, tightening around your waist.

...no

Turning, you come to face a dark figure who has stepped out from the side of your barn. The barn flood light shining behind them makes it impossible to see their face; all you can see is a dark silhouette. Your breath catches in your throat.

That smile.

That goddamn smile.

You're hallucinating. There's no way that this is what you think it is.

But then tears well in those big blue eyes, and he breathes your name so softly that it's lost in the breeze that blows past.

One step forward, and you find yourself crushed in his arms, completely lifted off the ground. This doesn't feel real. But only Rhett Abbott smells of petrichor, fresh-cut hay, and leather. Only Rhett has arms that hold you like you're made of glass, and only Rhett looks at you like you've hung the moon and stars in the sky.

There's no way.

"How...?" You refuse to believe this is happening, but Rhett's cheeks feel very, very real beneath your palms.

"I made you a promise that I intend to keep," his voice barely a whisper as he speaks, like this will end if he says it too loudly, "didn't I?"

The ring on your trembling finger glistens.

And for the first time in forever, he kisses you. It's too shaky to amount to much, a locking of trembling, unsure lips that don't know what to do with themselves, but it's everything you could have ever asked for.

From around the side of your house emerges Isabela. One-headed, looking somewhat confused, until Nyx whinnies, and she bolts toward the fence. Yanking her lead out from the hands of...

"Cecelia?" She's the last person you expect to see, but there she is. A little worse for wear, her hair is a mess, but it's her.

There are so many things to be caught up on; you can see it in both of their eyes, but now, Isabela is about to take down the gate. There's no stopping her, the best you can do is one it up and let her bolt inside.

"It's weird seeing her with only one head," you can't quit looking at her; can't quit looking at Rhett and his momma.

"I don't think I'll ever recover from watching them morph together," Rhett's nose scrunching as he recounts it. His hair is shorter, barely long enough to curl around his ears.

They begin to talk as you head into the house. You really wish you'd cleaned because the place is a wreck, but neither of them seems bothered. Rhett hardly even perceives it; all he sees is you.

As it turns out, the land you live on once belonged to Cecelia's father, and that flower in the frame was the one that brought her to Royal's world. She, like you, woke up one day to find flowers at the end of November.

"I picked the same flower when I was twenty-three," Cecelia tells you, sitting across from you in the armchair, "I had a whole life, a family here, just like you. And in a couple of seconds, I lost all of it."

Rhett squeezes your hand as if he's reassuring the both of you that this is real; it's so strange to see him sitting on your couch.

"Royal knew there was a way for me to go home," she croaks, biting her nails, "and for forty-three years, he kept that to himself." Vaguely, you recall their argument when you were given the notebook.

Shortly after your disappearance, the police started investigating Perry for the death of the horse. Ransacking the ranch for evidence of the crime. Dogs found some of the pieces Rhett buried, and all of a sudden, he was the prime suspect.

"I gave up on coming back a long time ago," weakly, she smiles at her son, "but Rhett has been so hell-bent on finding you that it made me want to try again."

Those pale cheeks light up something fierce, bright red, as he buries his face into your shoulder. Around his neck lies a thin leather necklace. It's turned around, the golden pendant resting on the back of his neck.

His birthday present.

God, how have you managed to forget about it?

Cecelia's dead on her feet, more than happy to trudge off to the spare bedroom for the night. You think she's snoring before she even hits the mattress.

Just as you shut her door, Rhett sneaks up behind you, wrapping his big body around yours as he peppers your cheek with kisses, "you wouldn't happen to have my favorite hat, would ya?"

Rather than speaking, you take him by the hand, guiding him into your bedroom, and it's so, completely, utterly mind-boggling to see him standing in this room. The room that you never thought he'd get to see.

"On a normal day, I'd call you crazy for puttin' this on the bed," lifting it by the crown, he places it on top of his head. And all is right in the world. "But I'd like to think today isn't a normal day."

The mattress squeaks as he sits on the edge, opening his arms for you to step into. You've almost forgotten what it feels like to have these arms wrapped around your waist, but nothing in this world can make you forget what it feels like to see that loving grin as he looks up at you.

"You found your necklace," you mutter, turning it around to sit correctly on his neck.

"I'm glad you weren't there to see me ballin' my damn eyes out over it," but that watery grin tells you that you may witness it anyhow.

A tear escapes; is quickly wiped away by your ring finger. He catches the glint of the stones in the light, grins, and presses a kiss to it when he finds the chance.

"I hope you didn't find that stack of letters," you never did finish them, did you?

"I read every single one," and then Rhett curls his hands around your cheeks, guiding you down to press your foreheads and noses together, "I love you too."

It's not the story anyone is expecting, never was the fairy tail that you thought you'd live through, but you wouldn't exchange it for anything else.

The police at the station are awfully surprised when a missing woman steps in to reclaim her identity forty years later. Just as surprised as you are when you notice two backpacks downstairs, full of every bit of gold they could carry. Rhett thinks it's hilarious because why would he ever leave his gold to his father and brother?

"Gotta take care of my baby, right?" He chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. He's brought his other baby, too. Toast. His little head poking out the top of the bag.

In the Spring, you hire a contractor to rebuild a little, rickety house out on the North pasture, with a barn and a gravel driveway that leads to the road. It takes months, but the final product is so spot on that you can hardly tell a difference. Except for one thing; the addition of two more bedrooms.

Cecelia takes up a job at a local store and insists on paying rent for your old house because she stays when you move out. She's got the opportunity to move to other places, but she's content to keep that old place warm. Of course, he'll never tell her, but Rhett takes the rent money and hides it in a basket above her fridge.

She'll find it eventually.

Rhett's the same man you fell in love with. This alternate world of yours takes a while for him to adjust to. Square pizza boxes are his nemesis. The altered street names confuse him. More than once, you have to come out and help him navigate this crazy new world.

He loves you the same way he did in his world. Kisses you before he leaves and as soon as he returns. He kisses your scars, too. Vows to never use barbed wire fencing again because he hates how it hurt you. You like to think that the scars fade because of how much he's loved on them.

There are flowers that November.

Rhett thinks they're Autumn leaves, freshly fallen from the old Oaks, but those trees shed the last of their leaves weeks ago. Just before December's start, flowers decorate every inch of your yard, splotches of red, yellow, and orange.

Something tells you that they'll do this every year, that you're going to wake up every November to find them. Dainty petals waving their hello's, in the same way as old friends do.

Nyx and Isabela think they make a fantastic lunch, eating them by mouthfuls. So do the new herd of cattle, a small bunch of heifers that come in every color. They're still skinny; Cecelia found them in a backyard auction, and Rhett's big old heart broke at the sight of them. Eleven more mouths to feed isn't that bad.

You're about to start cooking dinner when you get a phone call from Rhett, asking you to meet him in the pasture when you get a chance.

"Do you see this?" He chirps once you're within earshot.

A few paces away from his feet lies a dainty purple flower. Remarkably short, its petals fluttering in the wind.

"I see it," you wish you didn't, but you do.

For a while, all you can do is stare at it. Waiting on something to happen, but it never does. Rhett tosses a bucket over it to prevent the cows from thinking it's dinner. And then he waves you on to follow him.

"Where are we going?" You find yourself asking as he takes your hand into his own.

He smiles, big and wide. "We're goin' to the store and gettin' a bag of concrete mix."

There will always be flowers in November.

Just like there will always be a handsome cowboy to take you by the hand and whisk you off your feet.