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whatgaviiformes · 2 years

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Ficlet: unnamed.

A/N: apparently I can't get this out of my head. So I am sorry for writing this. I hate that I wrote this.

Warnings for whump, angst, drowning (yes again), and temporary character death. There be no medical accuracy here.

Ficlet

They are men of action, so Virgil hadn't thought twice about jumping into the rapids after the little boy, and Gordon hadn't thought twice about going in after his brother. He tracked them from shore because he'd been in a pod. Lucky for them because he could keep up with the speedy river currents and make a plan.

It involved getting ahead of them, a rocky area he could grasp onto, and a little bit of prayer.

A lot of prayer. He had to help the boy first because that's what they did. The grasp was weak, shaky, but he was conscious, and Gordon brought him to the riverbank. One life.

The boy coughed, looked up at his hero with wide eyes, but Gordon was looking away, back towards the river where he'd seen Virgil's form bob over the surface and slide back under. There had been no fight.

He didn't have time.

"Gonna be okay, kid?" He asked, kindly, his voice a pitch higher than usual, but the kid didnt know that. Virgil needed him.

The kid nodded.

Back in the water to make two lives saved today.

Stroke after stroke to race the river, dodging and pushing off of slippery rocks, until finally he found purchase on a green baldric, attached to a limp, waterlogged version of his older brother.

On shore, he was still, blood near his hair line.

Gordon sprung to action, calling for help through his comm, checking his airway, feeling for a pulse on the cold skin. He pounded on his brother's chest in counted cycles and placing his mouth over his blue lips to force air in, precious air that would only help if he could get the water out, and his lungs working, his heart beating.

Again again again. Two breaths

Again again again.

How long was he under? 5 min? 8?

How far into the trek had he hit his head?

How long since he pulled him out?

He didn't know. Time drained in the resuscitation rhythm, again again again. Breathe.

A rib cracked.

He kept going.

It felt heavier now, harder to press his weight into Virg's heart through his stacked hands as they shook.

How long?

He'd stolen his toast just that morning. Shining eyes and a deep baritone of a laugh. So full of life, happy and whole. Gordon had thrown a piece of egg in his hair.

Again. Again. … again.

Breathe.

Too long, way way too long. He found the wrist.

No.

Nononononono

Where was that help?

Virgil. It keened out of him as he sat back on his knees, his body vibrating. Hoarse where he'd been calling for him and the counts interspersed with pleas, his voice cracked and his cries fell silent.

His brother. Virgil always had warm hands, even in the cold of winter his hands could be counted on for warmth, his body a furnace and his hug a blanket.

He loved popcorn and plants, and art, and -Oh, god, the music.

All of it slipped through his fingers.

Gordon's grasp fell slack, and the wrist dropped like a stone to the ground. His heart stuttered with the sadness so intense, so deep, that he let the dark shudder through him.

And then Virgil coughed.

~.~.~

It's Virg himself that climbed out of the dark. A cough, so light, then another and another and another. He remembered none of it. Consciousness was fleeting, his body too battered.

But when Scott arrived with help, Virgil was breathing, Gordon looking over him with wet haunted eyes, his entire body vibrating.

He pried Virgil's wrist out of Gordon's hands, and nodded to the paramedics when they could move closer. Scott maneuvered himself between them, between Gordon and the work of the people behind them, and brought him close to his chest.

Gordon clutched at his arm with inhuman strength, the strength of the frightened, of those who have seen horror.

"You did it, Gordon," he said. "It'll be okay."

Gordon said nothing.

He shook. It was different being in Scott's arms. He wanted Virgil's.

But Gordon had given up. He didn't do anything. Virgil had been fighting his way back, and Gordon, for just a moment, was about to call it. He's not sure he deserves Virgil's hugs or his laughter or his music ever again. And so he retreats, goes numb in Scott's arms, and loses himself in his grief.

#gavii scribit #ficlet #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderangst #thunderwhump #angst #whump #drowning #virgil tracy #gordon tracy

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thewhumperinwhite · 4 years

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Lost Dog, No Reward (1)

I made a thing! Dw, i’m still working on everything else too, but i needed to work on something new for a while because i have problems disorder

this owes a lot to @ashintheairlikesnow who is among my fave whump writers. i know she didn’t originate the universe, and i’m not double checking a lot to make sure this is actually bbu compliant, but her stuff definitely inspired me to mess with the bbu at all :3

TW for: violence/gore; amnesiac whumpee; choking; references to institutionalized slavery and accompanying dehumanization; gun violence; cops.

---

Ari’s never had a job go this badly before. Not in the years he still remembers, anyway.

Ari’s vision is always lopsided, and he’s always poor at judging distance, and now the blood squeezing between his fingers and ruining his leather gloves is making him dizzy, too, and all three of those things combine to make him trip over the concrete base of a street lamp and jam his torn-open shoulder against the lamp itself, and the pain takes his knees out from under him and crumples him down to the sidewalk, half-sprawled over forwards and losing time he doesn’t have.

He doesn’t know this street. It’s night and he doesn’t know the street which means it’s nothing but a string of locked doors between him and home; on his own street he knows who forgets to lock their doors, who will let him bleed on their couch for a night in exchange for money or a favor, which alleys lead somewhere and which don’t, but here he doesn’t know anything except that the police men shouted after him at first and now they’re not shouting, they’re only running.

While he sucks air in and tries to get his legs back under him, Ari runs through the options he still has in his head. It isn’t hard, because there aren’t very many.

He can turn and fight. That’s what he wants to do; he’s known how to fight longer than he’s known how to talk and he knows it would feel good. But the police men have guns so he also knows it wouldn’t feel good for very long.

He can stop. He can sit here gasping on the sidewalk, holding a lamp post in one hand and his guts in the other, until the police men come and find him. It’s possible they won’t shoot him again, if he’s already laying on the ground, though of course there’s no way to know; but they would certainly drag him away somewhere, somewhere he thinks vaguely would have white walls and no windows, and he doesn’t want to go there with them.

So really there’s only one thing he can do. That’s good. That makes it easy.

His shoulder isn’t too bad, really, or at least he doesn’t think so. It’s turned his coat hot and sticky with blood—the fur collar is all matted with it, which makes him sad, he’s only ever had the one—and it hurts, more now that he’s hit it against the post, but really they barely clipped him; he doesn’t even think it would make him dizzy on it’s own. It’s the hole in his stomach that’s the problem; that’s deeper and wetter and shifts when he pushes his hand against it, in a way that makes him sick. But Rotty said put pressure on the wound—Rotty wailed when he saw the knife go in, and made time for Ari to get away, and told him to put pressure on the wound—so Ari digs his hand against the wound, and he breathes out, and he pushes himself to his feet.

Up ahead there’s a store with its lights on. And Ari can’t stop, and he can’t turn and fight, but he can still run, so that’s what he does.

----

Pryce has always kind of liked closing up alone, because it means he gets to unplug his headphones and fill the shop with very loud vaporwave, which is genuinely pretty chill music to mop floors to but also, more importantly, an inherently funny thing to play very loudly in an empty grocery store.

He’s in the process of emptying the small trashcan next to his seat behind the checkout counter—which is almost entirely filled with the half-pack of cigarettes he smoked during his shift—into the enormous trash bag from outside the bathroom, when the front door opens. He hears it with a full body wince because it is after midnight which means he’s almost certainly blasting some poor unsuspecting drunk with objectively-not-even-very-good vaporwave, and Mr. Nguyen, the very nice old man who owns the store and puts up with Pryce’s bullshit and is thus the only authority figure Pryce respects, will be disappointed if he loses a customer because of Pryce’s unpleasant taste in music; so Pryce is already halfway through an apology before he actually looks up and sees the very large man standing in a puddle of blood in the doorway.

Pryce drops the trash can.

The man is visually bizarre enough that Pryce almost can’t register the full picture, just disparate, equally-baffling parts—the man’s hair is an enormous red-brown mane, it reaches his elbows in a tangled mass weighed down with blood; he’s wearing a knee-length brown-leather coat with a big (bloody) fur collar; his face is a mess of puckered scars pulling up on his mouth and down through one of his eyelids and in the brief moment he stands there staring at Pryce with his (bloody) mouth hanging open the fluorescents turn his eyes—which must be brown, logically they must be—bright orange.

Then the man barrels towards Pryce and all of Pryce’s muscles lock in place as he prepares to be shot or stabbed or at the very least body-tackled—

The man flings himself over the counter and folds his big (bloody) body into an improbably small space half-under the till, next to Pryce’s feet, approximately ten seconds before the front door opens again, hard, the glass banging against the display next to it hard enough to make Pryce wince.

There are two cops, both panting hard. Their guns aren’t pointing at Pryce but they are very much drawn, and they’re both looking at Pryce, who is still frozen completely solid with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Where’d he go?” one of the officers barks at Pryce.

Pryce blinks.

Then he points over his shoulder, toward the back door. He half-turns, too, which is more movement than he needs to point but does give him time to nudge the big trash bag a little bit out and to the left.

“The back door’s unlocked,” he says, “I was taking out the trash, he must’ve—”

And they rocket past him, toward the back door and the alley, not sparing him or the big trash bag blocking their line of sight, apparently too excited to shoot somebody to notice that it wasn’t even a very good lie.

----

Ari listens to the police men’s shoe-sounds fade into the distance, waiting for them to come back and haul him out of his poor hiding spot and shoot him or drag him away.

They don’t.

The stranger’s worn red sneakers turn away from Ari, take two steps away from the counter; as more of the boy wearing them comes into view Ari watches him plant his hands on his skinny hips and stare after the police men. The boy lets out a breath, whistling on it a little.

Then the boy starts to turn back to Ari; he has time to say “Well—” before Ari leaps to his feet and gets a hand around the boy’s throat and slams him back against the tiled wall behind the counter.

The boy gasps, a thin hand taking Ari’s wrist in a very weak grip. His eyes are very wide.

“Why,” Ari says, his voice as harsh and scratchy as it always is, and thicker because it’s full of blood, “did you lie for me?”

The boy’s mouth opens and closes without words. He is smaller than Ari, and his sneakers are no longer touching the ground, because Ari is holding him up by his throat. His hair is longish—not as long as Ari’s—and colored bright blue-green. Ari doesn’t know how old—he isn’t good at knowing ages—but he’s grown, and Ari hasn’t ever seen him before, he doesn’t have many memories but those he does have he knows very well, he would remember this boy, whose eyes are a color he hasn’t seen before, almost silver, bright in his light-brown face.

The boy makes a sort of gurgling sounds and Ari realizes he is not answering because Ari is squeezing his throat closed. Ari makes himself loosen his grip and the boy drags in a breath.

“Just—trying—to help,” the boy wheezes.

Ari jerks back, dropping the boy back onto his feet; the boy slides down the wall a little, gasping and covering his throat with his hand.

“Why?” Ari says.

The boy blinks at Ari, wide-eyed. Then he looks away, not like he’s embarrassed but like he’s thinking. Then he meets Ari’s eyes, and he shrugs his shoulders with a wobbly, nervous smile.

“I don’t have very good impulse control,” the boy says.

Ari—doesn’t know what that means. And now he doesn’t know what to do, either. Which means he just stands there, staring at the boy for what he knows is too long because the boy drops his gaze with the same nervous mouth-twitch Rotty got at first, when Ari didn’t know how soon to look away. The boy’s eyes drop to Ari’s stomach, and he raises his dark eyebrows.

“You know you’re bleeding all over the floor?”

Ari looks down. If he thinks about it now, he stood from his crouch below the counter without thinking about the wound, and he hasn’t been putting pressure on it for a few minutes now. His ears are beginning to ring. There is a slow-spreading pool of blood on the tile under him. Ari looks back up at the boy, who is looking at him expectantly, and who did help, Ari thinks, though he isn’t sure why.

“I can—mop it up later,” Ari says. He tries to stand up straight and has to lean back against the counter to keep his balance. His vision is getting blotchy, now, a little. The job went bad before they paid him fully, and he’s already spent the advance on food, or else he would offer to pay to have the floor cleaned. Maybe he hasn’t stained the tile too badly yet. He takes a step sideways, trying to get out of the puddle, and immediately starts making another one. Blood has soaked from his shirt into his jeans—he has two pairs of those, so that will be alright—and is dripping out the bottom now, which means there must be a lot of it.

“Um,” the boy says. “That’s actually not—uh. Can I, like… help you with that? There’s a first aid kit in the office.” He moves, though he’s in range of Ari’s left eye, which doesn’t work well; Ari jerks his head up to see what the boy is doing, to make sure he isn’t moving closer when Ari can’t see him, and then the floor suddenly swings up into the side of Ari’s head.

----

The man crumples sideways and hits the floor hard, and Pryce stands there over him with a hand pressed over his mouth, like a useless idiot who’s never seen blood before.

Which. While it is true he has never seen this much blood in one place before. Thinking about that is not going to help this stranger not die on Mr. Nguyen’s floor.

The first aid kit, which he’s never seen used and which definitely doesn’t have, like, a blood transfusion in it, also might not help with that, but it is what Pryce has on hand at the moment. And as long as he’s already actively lied to the cops tonight. He may as well go all the way and also not call an ambulance, he guesses. He turns and scurries to Mr. Nguyen’s office to grab the kit.

Pryce’s throat is tacky with somebody else’s blood, because the hand the man used to halfway choke Pryce out was covered in blood. That’s not a very helpful thought either but it’s hard to make this one go away.

Whoever this guy is, he’s—quite strong. Pryce’s throat feels—well, like it’s going to bruise, for one thing. And the long moment of kicking his feet against the wall without being able to touch the ground was—well. A headrush, certainly. Presumably in an hour when he’s no longer entirely made out of adrenaline he will realize that it was a bad headrush and will have a panic attack or something.

At the moment it feels—he isn’t sure. Good. Exciting. And panicking would not be productive right now so he’s gonna ride this high as long as he can in the hopes that it will make him in any way useful to anyone.

The first aid kit is smaller than he remembers it being.

Pryce almost slips in the spreading puddle of blood when he gets back to the counter. The bleeding man is trying to sit up, which does not seem like a great idea.

“Uh—don’t try to move around,” Pryce says, trying to sound like he has any fucking idea what he’s talking about. “Is it—okay, yeah, let me—” The man’s big scarred hand is pressed against his stomach, just below and to the right of his navel. Pryce takes his wrist, trying to be both gentle and authoritative. “Let me see what we’re—”

As he’s pushing the man’s hand aside, something catches Pryce’s eye—something on the man’s wrist, underneath the blood, and he stops.

There’s a barcode on the man’s wrist.

Pryce stares at it.

Pryce’s brain is never not moving, faster than other peoples’ seem to; he has the impression it makes him an exhausting conversationalist but it does, in this case, allow him to scroll through many thoughts without losing too much time. They are:

Barcode. Barcode on wrist. Barcode on wrist equals… pet??? This huge dude is a pet??? Why would cops be after a pet? A runaway? No, not with their guns out, they wouldn’t shoot a pet somebody wanted back, that’d be like throwing away—Jesus pets are so expensive, why would anybody bring one here, why would anybody let one get so fucked, why would anybody let something so expensive get so hurt—

And then the man shifts uncomfortably and looks up at Pryce—his eyes are brown, though warm and light enough he isn’t surprised he thought they were orange, and one of them droops halfway closed, the eyelid clearly too damaged to lift properly—with clear uncertainty. Like he knows he needs help but doesn’t know if he can trust Pryce to give it.

It’s a human expression. That a human would make.

That’s a human person, Pryce thinks, and he shakes his head clear of everything else and pushes the bloody fabric of the man’s shirt aside so he can see the damage.

#whump #bbu #box boy universe #amnesiac whumpee #original whump #lost dog no reward #meet cute :)#bleeding out #choking #slammed against a wall #guns tw #cops tw #slavery tw

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 255: "Hospital”

Previously on BnHA: Aizawa and Present Mic found out their dead best friend Shirakumo was necromanced by All for One and Ujiko and turned into everyone’s favorite villain mom bartender M.D., Kurogiri! Gran Torino and Naomasa were all “hey you guys should talk to him and see if you can restore his memories through the power of friendship” and so they all sat down together to do that. Kurogiri was all “so tell me how is my son Shigaraki Tomura, I love him so much, he is so emo and I must protect him” and Aizawa and Mic were all “THIS GUY HASN’T CHANGED ONE IOTA” and Aizawa started crying and was all “SHIRAKUMO LET’S GET MARRIED AGAIN AND BE HEROES TOGETHER LIKE WE ALWAYS WANTED.” Oh and also we found out Aizawa only fake expelled his previous students and it was just so that he could PREPARE THEM FOR LIFE!! and afterwards they got to go back to U.A. again and live happily ever after. And so basically I’ve lost track of how many hugs Aizawa needs here now but it’s a lot.

Today on BnHA: Shiraguri’s brainwaves start going all wonky and everyone is like “OH SHIT IT’S WORKING” and Aizawa and Mic decide it’s time to shift this drama into overdrive, so they get right up against the glass and start shouting “YOU’RE OUR FRIEND!!” and stuff over and over until IT FINALLY WORKS!! and Kurogiri’s face shifts into Shirakumo’s. Somehow the effect is incredibly sad and moving rather than terrifying as fuck, but unfortunately all Kumo can manage to get out is “hospital” before his mind overloads and he passes out. Fortunately for our heroes, “hospital” is actually an awesome clue which can totally lead them to Tomura and Ujiko’s location if they play their cards right, probably! Or at least Hawks seems really psyched about it, idk. Anyway so the chapter ends with Ujiko going FULL MAD SCIENTIST and wreaking havoc on Tomura’s body in order to -- I’m pretty sure, anyway -- turn him into some kind of fully sentient ultimate high end Noumu. Welllllll shit.

so that sure was a fun little wrinkle last week, huh. the two biggest scanlators deciding that in the spirit of the holidays, they were going to stop translating WSJ series and instead support the official releases out of the goodness of their hearts and definitely not at all because Shueisha was eyeing them threateningly and making little throat-slitting gestures. that was a ride. these are interesting times lol

but at any rate, if this is how it’s going to be for now then I’ll adjust! it is nice to have everyone support the official release, and obviously the image quality is way better, and Caleb’s translations are by and large pretty good. and obviously we’ll get used to reading the chapter on Sundays instead of Fridays (hell, I remember when the SJ leaks still came out on Wednesdays, so it’s not like we haven’t done this same old song and dance before lol). but Friday did happen to be a more convenient day for my schedule personally, so it might take a bit of adjusting for me to figure out what my posting schedule is going to be moving forward

anyways so I’m sorry this recap is so ridiculously late, but here we go at last!

so the Tartarus guard, who by the way is very clearly Seiji’s dad (WHEN ARE THE SHIKETSU KIDS COMING BACK), is tapping frantically at his touch screen even though it’s not doing anything, and he says he’s detecting unusual brainwaves. omg

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IT MEANS, OBVIOUSLY THEY UNLOCKED THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP, MAN! THEY DID IT

omfg. the guard just says “he’s agitated.” I’m going to need you to have more hype than that my good sir. please

holy shit Nao

attention everyone, HAS ANYONE SEEN NAOMASA’S FUCKING CHILL, BECAUSE HE SEEMS TO HAVE FUCKING MISPLACED THAT SHIT. someone please explain to this man that there is a time and a place to play good cop bad cop and this is not it. “oh, Shirakumo is starting to recover his memories? well then [busts into the prison cell and grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall] WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR!?”

(ETA: so apparently Nao’s detective instincts are cleverer than mine. he saw that Kumo was potentially going to emerge, but probably not for long, so he gave him the most important question so he could focus on answering that. good job! still not a lot of chill but hey.)

meanwhile Aizawa is all “if what they said is true I’m looking at my friend’s corpse”, while still crying by the way, and yeah, so MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE. this year Santa decided to change it up and just make everyone real sad. happy holidays

lord he’s leaping to his feet and shouting “WHO DID THIS TO YOU”

meanwhile I can’t stop staring at Present Mic with his tongue sticking out. why are you sticking your tongue out. why are anime characters like this. you know, Stain also used to stick his tongue out. Present Mic U.A. traitor confirmed

also!! so many people have beef with Ujiko, though! pretty soon they will have to take a number and get in line

oh no Kumogiri is malfunctioning

Aizawa’s all “ANSWER ME SHIRAKUMO” and OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS

I HAVE NEVER SEEN AIZAWA SHOUTA SO INTENSE AND I CAN’T TEAR MY EYES AWAY FROM THE SCREEN AHHHHH

so there’s some more of “WE WANTED TO BE HEROES TOGETHER” and “YOUR NAME IS SHIRAKUMO OBORO” and all of that other “SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY” stuff, and you’re damn right I am eating ALL THAT SHIT right up, hell yes. IT’S A TROPE FOR A REASON PEOPLE

oh my god

bwo...hh...?

(ETA: I feel like I should explain that although I have a subscription to Viz, I really hate how their chapter viewer is set up, so I read the chapter on one of the vertical scroll-to-read sites instead. I prefer scroll-to-read for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one is so that I can read the chapter slowly (since I’m writing as I go) without spoiling what’s in the next panel. that being said, this next page is one of the few where Viz obviously got it right, so I’ll be posting the full image.)

SDFLSDLFKHSDLKJGOISDJFOSK

（┐° o ° ┐） ( ｣｡╹o╹｡)｣

feelingsfeelingsfeelingsFEELINGS

(ETA: on a reread I am fascinated by the fact that that bandage on his nose actually seems to be A PERMANENT PART OF HIS FACE APPARENTLY lol what.)

READ THE FUCKING ROOM, DUDE. also look how tiny Gran Torino is. he thought we wouldn’t notice through all of our tears. but we did. would you like me to fetch you a box

ha ha ha so now back to the drama

heh so anyway, the fact that this smoke Shirakumo face still looks like a child is straight up destroying me. how are you guys. how is everyone. feliz navidad

FKSLDJSLK HOLD UP

IS HE TRYING TO SAY “SHOUTA”, I CAN’T, I’M?!?!!!!

ADSLFKJALSKDJW

(ETA: I think you can see Shirakumo’s eye rolling back here as he fights against the brainwashing omg. this chapter’s fucking art, though.)

YESSSSSS you keep on ticking off that checklist of clichés, Horikoshi!! I’m so weak for this shit it’s not even funny. actually that’s not true, this plotline is usually hit or miss with me, but I’ll tell you what though, if there’s one guaranteed way to have me freaking the fuck out rather than sighing and rolling my eyes, it’s to have AIZAWA FUCKING SHOUTA be the one pounding on the wall of glass and screaming at his former lover to fight the layers of conditioning waging war on his mind. ohhhhhh god

lol the brainwave detecting screen is losing its fucking shit also and beeping like crazy. this tension is so thick you could plant a flag in it yeesh

is this Kumo remembering stuff??!

(ETA: thank you to the anon who pointed out I posted the wrong image earlier lol.)

why do shounen characters always recall events from a third-person camera view. curse this ambiguous flashback

AHHHHH

HOSPITALLLL ahh what??? “SHOUTA, HOSPITAL.” oh my god. Shirakumo I commend you for not having your first words after dying and being brought back to life and brainwashed for 15 years and then waking up in a straitjacket in a prison cell be, “FUCK ME OH FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK.” you and I are very different people but I respect that

HOLY SHIT HIS HEAD EXPLODED

so now everyone’s freaking out and we’re zooming in on Kumo’s eye again. by the way this is going to kill me when it’s animated oh god

OH NO THE PANEL WENT BLACK AND IT GOT ALL SILENT

(ETA: hmm I don’t think Caleb Cook knows what “whump” means nowadays. whump is what I wish we had here. instead it’s just lots of hurt but very little comfort. JUST LOTS OF PAIN AND SADNESS.)

Horikoshi please have mercy oh lord. also I see their hands touching, you. they honestly should be gripping each other fucking white-knuckled, this is all very traumatic. I think that if Shouta was holding Mic’s hand while his other hand was pressed against the glass I would probably start sobbing for real

what the fuck

did they knock him back out?? they seem really calm and optimistic about all this lol

oh godddddd

HE’S NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING SHUT UP. GOD, MIC, WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST GIVE HIM A HUG ALREADY??

so now they’re bidding farewell to Nao and Gran -- and HOLY SHIT --

okay hold up -- I just realized -- Kumo was trying to give them a hint about Ujiko’s location. holy shiiiiit. PLEASE START INVESTIGATING HOSPITALS, NAO AND GRAN. holy shit the Noumu arc is heating uppppp

Aizawa’s asking what’s happening with Kurogiri now, and I feel like he maybe should have asked that immediately after the fact rather than as an afterthought while they were getting ready to leave but okay

Nao says he kind of “short-circuited or something” and yeah that tracks with what we saw. though it sure does make that “THAT’S ALL FOR TODAY FOLKS, GOOD JOB BOYS, YOU GET A GOLD STAR” business just SUPER WEIRD though, but let’s be real, Nao has been swinging and missing with striking the right tone all day today

and now Gran is apologizing to Mic and Aizawa for the exquisite emotional torture he just put them through, but he says something is bound to come from it. WELL YEAH NO SHIT IT HAD GODDAMN BETTER

Aizawa apparently hasn’t run out of sad/tired/haunted expressions yet, if you can believe it

pretty soon everyone is going to be sad, tired, and traumatized! heh. it’s going to be so fucked up hahaha crying smiling emojiiiii

oh hey and we’re cutting to another flashback of AFO doing what he does best, being callously dismissive of human lives!

this guy. right here. is a rat bastard. for real. also Horikoshi sure picked a hell of a chapter to go all out on the art again, jesus. this is probably the first time I’ve looked at AFO’s fucked up face and actually thought “yep, that’s a mutilated human man” rather than “shouldn’t you be out floating in space with your asteroid friends trying to smash the Millennium Falcon?” so anyways yeah this panel is a big NOPE from me, thank you

but on the other hand, when Horikoshi uses those art powers for good, such as carefully penciling in every last individual hair of Aizawa’s perpetual five o’clock shadow, that I don’t mind so much!

yes. yes good

so now they’re vrooming off, and we’re hanging back with Gran and Nao for a minute

YESSSSS GOOD JOB NAO!!

looooool it’s ringing up the head of the HPSC and her phone’s buzzing and she’s giving it this hella dramatic look. like this is some patented Todoroki-level dramatic whooshing right here

that’s just how dramatic this entire arc is going to be, hopefully

WAIT WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW

IS THAT A CODED MESSAGE FOR HIM TO GO CHECK OUT THE HOSPITAL. AND HOW BUSY ARE YOU, HAWKS. ARE YOU THE “I AM IN SOME DEEP, DEEP TROUBLE” KIND OF BUSY, OR JUST THE STAYING-IN-CHARACTER KIND OF BUSY. YOU CASUAL BASTARD, WHO CAN EVEN TELL WITH YOU, I’LL JUST HAVE TO SCROLL DOWN TO SEE

oh hh my go

“LITTLE LATE TO ASK ABOUT THIS STUFF” so he comes from the Bakugou Katsuki school of tutoring, eh

I love that he actually followed through on explaining the PLF’s philosophy to Twice. and Twice is such a good boy. he’s studying so diligently. look, he didn’t ask to join a doomsday cult, it just kind of happened so now he’s just doing his best to figure it all out

and it definitely was a coded message, then. smoooooth, HPSC lady, smooth. so I wonder if the fact that she gave him a specific hospital implies a time jump. because I don’t think she’d have him investigate just any old hospital until they had a better lead and/or a more solid idea of what they were looking for

lol what the fuck

well I sure do not have any idea what this man is talking about

-- HOSDFLKJDLY SHIT WE’RE CUTTING TO UJIKO WE ARE CUTTING TO FUCKING UJIKO RED FUCKING ALERT!!!

HE’S TALKING ABOUT TOMURA I’M NOT CALMMMMMMMM AHHHHHH

FUCCKLKL FUCK THE WHAT HOLY SHIT WHAT DID HE DO

oh my god oh my god oh m

he made Tomura a Noumu. holy fucking shit that’s what he did. of course. so he’ll be able to possess multiple quirks, but because he benefits from Ujiko’s years of high end Noumu research, his sense of self will remain intact

AND DOESN’T THIS PROCESS JUST LOOK EVER SO PLEASANT. jesus christ. he’s not even allowed to lie down, for some reason this procedure can only be done while he’s hovering over the bed Exorcist-style with his mouth locked open in a silent scream (ETA: or is that actually his laughter we’re seeing?? because this panel wasn’t raw enough already I guess??) while random spurts of blood come chucking out all over the place. well that’s just

and Tomura fucking volunteered for this. how many scores of others didn’t?? holy fucking shit Ujiko. it’s not easy to be the most evil man in a chapter where a foil-wrapped potato with eye holes started waxing poetic about all the children he harvested and killed like some kind of bloodthirsty sommelier, but YOU FOUND A WAY. dancing a fucking jig while your so-called masterpiece is being gruesomely tortured in the foreground. man if there’s any justice in the world, we’ll find out in this arc that Ujiko used science to make himself immortal so that once he’s finally captured they can just keep killing him over and over again. I do not like him!!

so that’s it! we really are doing this thing, holy shit. Noumu arc here we come. see you guys next decade har dee har

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killian-whump · 5 years

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OUAT 3x04: Rewatch Liveblog

Hey guys! I'm back again with another rewatch liveblog. Man, I'm kinda storming through S3 so far, due to the lack of Killian whump in a lot of these early episodes. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll make up for that by spending a quarter of a century on the next episode :P

But before THAT episode, we have THIS one! It's episode 3x04, and it's called "Nasty Habits". Unfortunately, none of those habits seem to be torturing pirates, because there's only some Killian angst in this one.

Well, let's watch it anyway... ;)

Neal bondage. Way to start off an episode!

Shame I'm not that into Neal, though :/

Hahaha, and Felix isn't even good at tying people up. Theeeere goes Bae.

Gotta admit, his "I'm not a boy anymore, and I sure ain't lost" is kinda hot XD

Bae: "Papa, I told you: I don't want anymore gifts from the people you terrorize." Ummm. Rumple, that's super fucking creepy. Rumple: "Then what do you want?" LIKE, LITERALLY ANYTHING THAT ISN'T THAT.

Hey, solid question here, but why IS the Dark One still living in a hovel at this point?

Oh, totally unnecessary but kinda awesome warpaint time.

And creepy Belle conjuring time. I mean, kudos to you for maintaining your child-like wonder, Rumple, but having invisible friends at your age IS kinda weird. Just saying.

Although, I mean, it DOES do a solid job of giving Rumple a chance to tell the audience his own inner doubts and fears in a far less creepy way than having him literally talking to himself.

So there's that.

Wow, that's a really nice little miniature "Pan's Compound" made out of rocks and sticks. Did they all work together to gather the rocks and arrange everything so artfully? Or did one of them just sit there and do this on their own like the world's loneliest middle school art project? And if so, who?

"It's not the sticks you need to worry about. It's the poison they're dipped in." MEANINGFUL OMINOUS CAPTAIN CHARMING LOOK BEHOOOOOOOOLD

Tink: "One nick, and you'll spend the rest of yo-" Dave: "Poison sticks equal death. We got it." No, no, Dave. Let her finish. This sounds relevant to my interests.

Tink looks so cheerful as she says she's ready to go as soon as they tell her the exit plan. Oh, sweet summer child. You're obviously new here.

...ALL of their faces right here. They're all like, "Oh shit, we were hoping you wouldn't ask us that." Except Hook, who looks as vaguely amused by their reactions as we are.

Regina's SO happy to hear of Greg's demise. I FEEL YOU, GIRL. I FEEL YOU.

David: "what about you, Hook? You got off this island before." Hook: "Yes. Aboard my ship, which would require some form of magic to create a portal, which... I got from Pan, in a deal I don't think he's ready to repeat." TELL US MORE OR I SWEAR TO GOD

He can't even meet anyone's eyes as he says it, either. Just what WAS that deal, Hook? Don't make me imagine it. You won't like what I imagine. Mmmm. I like what I'm imagining...

More angst. Yum.

Ahh... Rumple hears the murmurings of conversation...

BAM! Poppy dust to the face! Why did he use poppy dust, though? I mean, I assume it's poppy dust, since it looked the same as when Tink knocked Regina out last episode - which was pointed out to be done with poppy dust.

OH, HEY LOOK, GUYS, IT'S BAELFIRE

HE'S NOT DEAD, EVERYBODY!

Don't act like you've already known that since last season, because that's just gonna make Rumple feel bad for being so behind on the news.

THIS IS WHERE A COMMERCIAL WOULD BE IF WE HAD ANY

True Story: I meant to do this rewatch post the other day, but when I sat down to watch the episode, it turned out my copy of 3x04 was somehow episode 4 of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, so I had to go online and re-download the right episode, because of course I’m too lazy to rip my own videos. I just download them like the dirty pirate I am. Yarrrrrr.

Anyway, this episode seems to have slightly longer black breaks where the commercials were. Weird. Anyway...

SERIOUSLY, RUMPLE?!

We've already talked about how creepy it is, giving your kid "gifts" you stole from the people you torment with your dark magic.

Oh, look. Rumple's gone to Hamelin. And the children are missing. And there's a piper. And he wears a pied cloak. THIS SOUNDS FAMILIAR... (and I don't mean from the previous times I've seen this episode, you smart asses.)

Rumple: "Pan is too powerful. You can only beat him if you're willing to die... which I am." Ummm. But you were willing to die to save Henry because Baelfire was dead, and... and... I mean... *gestures vaguely* Neal: "What if I told you there was another way?"

No, apparently it involves attacking one of Kraken-san's friends and relations. Don't worry, guys, no krakens were harmed in the harvesting of this squid ink. This particular kraken lived long after this, and sired a bunch of tiny kraken babies who went on to plunder pirate butts all along the shores of Neverland after the realms were united in S7.

It's true. I made it up just now.

Hahahahaha, Regina. "What is this supposed to be?" Well, it looks like... a gigantic rock of some kind, but I'm no expert or anything.

Oh, it's the "hot" conversation. I love it XD And the way David snaps the rope away from Hook, like he doesn't need his piddly help. "And I'm plenty hot." Yeah, you sure are, Dave XD

Mmmm... Hook's so intense when he's talking to Dave. "Why don't you?"

"Oh, if there's one thing I've gleaned from you hero types, it's that there's always hope." <3

"Is there something you're not telling me... mate?" Oh, NOW he's your mate XD

"Alas, hope and reality are most often worlds apart." T_T

Sure, just shove him, Dave. Can't you see he's going through something here? Look how angsty he is. Like an angst burrito wrapped in black leather.

OH SHIT. NOT THIS AGAIN.

I love the way Emma calls out Hook’s name. It's so familiar <3

Come on, baby. You can light the torch this time. Just keep trying. You can do i- DAMMIT DAVE. Every time I watch this episode, you shove him out of the way and use your fancy shmancy modern lighter to light the torch. He's just an angsty pirate, trying the best he can with one hand and a hook T_T

Showin' him up in front of Emma and all that... SO MEAN T_T

Hook's face, tho XD

...and Emma's not even paying attention, anyway XD

On a more serious note, these kinds of bestings make me laugh. I love them all <3

Oh, back to Hamelin.

Yeah, follow those kids, Rumple. This is probably the only time saying that wouldn’t be super duper creepy.

Gee, that piper on the other side of the fire looks a bit familiar...

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, IT'S PETER FUCKING PAN D:

Pan really IS a little shit, though, isn't he? Hahaha. Such absolutely horrible things to say to your own kid. WORST PARENT ON THE SHOW. And there's a LOT of competition for that spot, let me tell you.

NM, I don't need to tell you. You all already know XD

"After all, being abandoned is what you're good at, isn't it?" JFC, dude, chill out or something. This isn't the Cruelty Olympics up in here. I'd know if it was. I'd be taking part... AND STILL SIDE-EYEING YOUR NASTY ASS.

Just kidding. Love you, boo. Keep being the best little shit this side of the sewage plant.

Hey, thanks a lot whichever one of you is responsible for this one. Now I can't watch this scene without thinking they're out of paper towels D:

Henry: "Sorry. I don't hear anything." Pan: "Interesting." I'll say.

Oh, so the sentries were knocked out by a sleeping spell... that looks exactly like a puff of poppy dust. Busy year in the effects department?

Pan: "Now, now, Felix. Where's your sense of adventure?" See, that's why I still love Pan, even though he's a complete piece of shit. He's a fun piece of shit. He really gets into his dastardly and deviant behavior.

JFC KNOCK IT OUT WITH THE LANTERNS NOW. I can only have so many orgas- OH, HI GUYS.

The way Colin pops those consonants on the word "important" XD I fucking love this man. Why is he so much the way he is?!

Hook: "He got it from his mother." OH GOD, BABY. Somebody hold me. I can't handle the look on his face after he says that. Oh shit. I've revealed feelings. RUN AWAY.

"Yes, because pre-teen Baelfire probably made lots of pasta." Never change, Regina. You’re my boo and you always will be <3

This scene is really pretty, though. I love the soft yellow glow coming out of the coconut and the stars across the ceiling. Pretty <3

THEY'RE STILL OUT OF PAPER TOWELS. Goddammit, you guys.

Wow. That was a powerful gust of magic. I wonder who could've been responsible for that?

Pan: "We have a guest!" Ummm... Hate to break it to you, but your party literally dropped dead asleep about 2 seconds ago, so nobody's listening XD

Pan: "Who could it be?" I WONDER.

Slick move there, Neal. I might just start to like you again, after all. Hope you don't die in the second half of the season or anything...

Awww. The sad thing is, the viewer knows Rumple actually isn't here to murder Henry, but poor Rumple - Neal doesn't know that :/

I actually hate storylines like this. I'd rather be kept in the dark. It's so frustrating when you know shit that the characters don't know. Key reason why I'm not into S1 very much, actually. But you didn't hear that from me. Remember: I only dislike it 'cos there's no pirates ;)

Neal: "It's Neal!" Wow. Getting really loud there, Bae- sorry, Neal. Oops.

Ahhhhh, Peter Pan, you little shit. Causing more trouble.

Neal: "We're safer without you." Ummm... Are you, though? Are you really?

"Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I'm here." Oh, Mary Margaret. About that... Heh. Heh heh. Hmm.

Hey, look guys. It's Neal, and he's found the heroes' campsite!

...and now he's been caught by Pan. I hate to say I told you so, Neal, and I hate to say Rumple told you so, as well, but...

LITERALLY EVERYONE TOLD YOU SO, YOU IDIOT.

Ahahahaha, "Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out." Peter Pan taught him that. Nice one, show. I forgot about that detail.

"I'll remember that for next time." Ummm... Wait. What.

Dammit show. You giveth and you taketh away.

Poor Jared, hahaha. He spends most of this episode being fireman carried by various people. Acting is so glamorous.

Ooooh, a good old-fashioned manhandling right here. Love it.

It still bothers me that Rumple's entire reason for living is Bae. I mean, having (Rumple!)Belle literally saying that now that Neal's alive, Rumple has a reason for living again... It just makes me feel bad about that ship?

JFC WOULD SOMEONE GO TO THE STORE AND BUY MORE PAPER TOWELS FOR THESE BOYS?!?!

NOW HENRY HAS THE EMPTY PAPER TOWEL ROLLS

What are they even paying you people for?!

Wait. I'm not getting paid. Why are you guys getting paid if I'm not getting paid? Dammit, I quit.

PEW PEW PEW PEEEEEEEEEEW

#ouat rewatch #watching fairytales #ouat liveblog #3x04 #oc #kw reviews

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