#It's weird to reflex your own emotions through the character

[pterodach]

Make him feel alright

[sokkastyles]

Galaxy bra1n on Tumblr What do you think about this post? I just happened upon it honestly, and it just... made me squirm tbh. I just don't like it. But I'm not sure how to put it into words, so I'd really like to know your thoughts on it if it's not too much of a bother ofc. I don't mean any offense to the OP too, it's just that this take rubs me the wrong way. Really love your blog!

Yeah lol this take is weird for a few reasons. First of all if you don't mind the ship idk why you care about what is a "good" reason to ship them. Characters can and have been shipped together because they looked at each other once and for no reason at all, and that's perfectly fine because like, who cares?

Second, I am so tired of people blaming Zuko for Azula shooting lightning at Katara. Zuko wasn't goading Azula out of stupidity or pride, he was trying to end the fight quickly without involving anyone else using a move he knew Azula had no defense against that he had used once before against his father, to quickly end a fight without violence. He did not think Azula would go for Katara because that is against the rules - that Azula set, because she challenged Zuko - of an agni kai. You could MAYBE say that Zuko should have anticipated that Azula would cheat, but that's always been their dynamic. Zuko is always too honorable and Azula is always lying and cheating. What has changed is that she's no longer able to manipulate Zuko and is revealed to be the lying cheater that she always was, but that still doesn't mean he could have anticipated her aiming at Katara, who had to be exactly in the right place at the right time.

As far as him "doing the bare minimum"...I mean, I do think he would have done it regardless of who it was who was in danger and his relationship to them, but that's not a reason to diminish what he did, either. It takes incredible fortitude to put yourself in harm's way for another person, and fast reflexes to get there in time. Katara herself is frozen to the spot, which is a natural reaction to danger, but if Zuko had done that or not reacted fast enough or even been slightly off, she or he would have died instantly. So let's not belittle what Zuko did in sacrificing his own life to save someone else in an incredible act of selflessness, compassion, and heroism just because we don't like a ship.

Third, these takes always miss WHY it's seen as a shippy moment. It's not only the culmination of a specific narrative arc between the three of them, the thematic motif of Zuko being positioned between what Azula and Katara represent to him, respectively, the choice between selfishness and selflessness, hate and love, cruelty and forgiveness - which alone are pretty damn good reasons to ship them. But not only that, it's the strong emotions that are created from that act. I don't think Zuko jumped in front of the lightning because he loved her. But you can't help but love someone after that, after giving your whole being to another person in that moment. And Katara does the same thing for Zuko. Sure, you could argue that she would have done it anyway, her morals wouldn't allow her to let him die, but the act itself still remains, with all its meaning, and the emotion behind it.

And the narrative goes out of its way to tell us that this is impossible! That a failure to redirect lightning correctly will result in perma-death. That Katara's powers of healing alone weren't enough to bring someone back from that precipice without spirit water. But they do it anyway. They save each other, through sheer force of will, and they can't not be tied to each other after that.

If that's not a good enough reason to ship, I don't know what is. Which doesn't mean you have to, of course. You are free to not vibe with a ship, regardless of the reasoning behind it. But don't tell me it's not a damned good reason.

[nitrosodiumepicfps]

Five more Music-Themed games

This isn't really a genre, since I'm not constricted by only researching "rhythm games". If it's got music and uses it in an interesting way, I'll take a crack at it.

Undertale - I really enjoyed this game in my younger years. Not only was it a well-put-together RPG, but it included pretty good commentary about morality, choice, empathy, and choosing what is right over what is easy. Characters were incredibly memorable, giving you reasons not to kill them, and the world would change based on your actions. You felt like this benevolent being in a world that you have no reason to save, and yet, by pulling on the strongest emotions, these characters, mere sprites and lines of code, could convince you to invest in their lives. The fandom may have been a cesspool rivaling the dark ages of FNAF, and to be honest, I never got interested in Deltarune, but standalone, Undertale was good. Oh, and the music was also amazing. Toby Fox is a ridiculously good composer; the music is well-made, but he also utilises leitmotifs and character themes to create emotional connections and fun nods. For example, Spider Dance - a theme that plays when you fight a spider lady - when played on piano, requires you to play as a duet, i.e. with two sets of hands, as a spider would. The greatest example of this is Hopes and Dreams, one of the last songs you listen to if you're going for true pacifist. I don't know how to spoiler text in Tumblr, so if you haven't played Undertale yet, just don't look at the screen. Essentially, Asriel is the true form of Flowey, that genocidal maniac who has been puppeteering your journey through the Underground. Now freed from his flower form, Asriel wants to reset the entire timeline and bring everything back to how it was. In his theme, the opening track Once Upon A Time can be heard, giving your adventure a cyclic theme, and Flowey's old theme, Your Best Friend, can also be heard at times, connecting back to Asriel's bitter existence in the flower. This is topped off with an orchestral rock theme to the entire track, showing you that this is the climax of the game. Video games are art.

Beatsaber - This one's a classic VR title. I believe it was FUNKe who said that (paraphrasing) most VR games basically boil down to either machinery operation, or swinging a stick. Beatsaber is this idea in its most distilled form, chopping apart blocks to the beat of whatever song you've chosen. Most times, you have to slice a block along the direction of the arrow stamped on it, and there are weird frosted glass blocks that you have to keep your sabers out of. There's really not much I can talk about with this one; in my eyes, it's the Pong of VR games. It's got a sort of interesting aesthetic; geometric shapes, colored lasers and dry ice gives everything an 80s disco theme. What I like about Beatsaber is that it's a VR game that uses its virtual reality to its advantage. Lots of VR games will have you maneuver yourself around with simple button presses from your controllers, and the VR-ness of it is relegated to a 3D graphics card. With Beatsaber, you have to swing the sticks yourself, and the directional blocks keep the movement interesting. I suppose it's closer to osu in the sense that you have to factor in your own speed, reflexes and direction, instead of pressing a key when the arrows line up.

BPM: Bullets Per Minute - I've referenced this game a couple times, but now I get to talk about it in a little more detail. Without just saying "it's like Metal Hellsinger but without vocals and without a sword", there is more to it. The beat-to-beat gameplay is more about hitting the smaller notes, rather than just performing an action to the tempo, as you do in Hellsinger. You know when you're listening to music, and imagining some sort of action-packed sequence unfolding to the rhythm? That's what BPM is. You have to leap, dodge, and shoot, all to the beat, but there's more to it than that. Some weapons have interesting reloads that don't easily fit into the rhythm, like a bolt-action rifle that has four shots on the beat, four cocks on the beat, and then three reload beats. It's hard to explain, but you need to account for the type of rhythm and fit your gun's timing into that. It's a pretty cool idea, and there is a bit of a roguelike element with gear you can switch out to make fights interesting, or add a new mechanic to fit onto the beat.

Serious Sam 2 - This may not seem like it has a unique twist to its music, but I believe it does. This ridiculously over-the-top cartoonish horde shooter is a lot of fun, primarily for all the things it does "wrong". It came out in 2005, when first person shooters were steadily stagnating into slow "piss-filtered" modern military games. Despite this, you juggle something like 15 weapons, fighting through hordes of clowns with explosive cream pies, ogre footballers, giant robot spiders and ripped devils with rocket launchers for hands. Everything is bright and stylised, you can clearly see enemies in the environment, and despite being a horde shooter, the gameplay loop allows you to progress through the enemies instead of being driven back by them. Also, it's just mindless fun to plough through the game's many worlds; there's a jungle world, a gigantic world, a culturally questionable China world, a volcano world, a fantasy world, and then a prison moon, and then a city planet... it goes on for a while. There's unique music for each level (not just each world), and not only that, but the level's music is split into different themes - a "peace" track, a "tension" track and a "fight" track. If you're just walking along, it plays the peace track. If you're near enemies, or escaping from combat, it plays the tension track. If you're in the middle of a fight, it plays the fight track. All of these share similar leitmotifs, so it appears like the music flares up organically depending on what situation you find yourself in. It's a pretty good system all things considered. Other games of the time with dynamic soundtracks would loop different parts of the ambience based on your situation (like Thief or the original Far Cry) but I don't know of many that had different tracks for your sitation, except maybe Deus Ex.

Geometry Dash - GD feels like a game that almost everyone has played, or at least heard of. It's a basic rhythm game, but instead of having you mash arrow keys to the beat, it's simple: jump on time to the beat. All you have to worry about is jumping; avoiding spikes, blades, and walls. There are other mechanics, like different modes (UFO is like Flappy Bird, while the spider can snap to a vertical surface) and portals that reverse gravity or make your character a mirror version of itself. The different collectibles add replay value, encouraging you to find secret paths in a level or try to complete one first try.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven’t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

[enneamage]

can you elaborate on wilbr trying to subtly punish people around him from ur last ask?? do u have examples? like i'm not doubting you lol i just don't really watch him because his personality drives me up the wall. (also thank you for making this blog your thoughts are super interesting & clearly explained)

Thank you! I'm glad people like my Words. When someone acts a certain way and you have an emotional response to it that’s one thing, but when someone is actively trying to make you feel an emotion it can be a little bit different; you can kind of feel from the inside that you’re being twisted. I’m generally pretty good at noticing when people want to throw me off balance, mostly because I’m good at not giving it to them :P.

Wilbur set off this trigger in my brain a lot. It actually helped me understand from an ~authorial perspective~ what he was going for during roleplay, but as we’ve established the SMP fiction/reality divide isn’t as clean as people think it is. This is why I’ll use a SMP thing as an example instead of the little micro-moments from his other streams, since SMP stuff kind of writes his personality in big easy to read comic sans.

Ghostbur was a big meta-example of what Wilbur is capable of. When Ghostbur was ‘on’, you were in for a passive-aggressive feels trip. The meta of Ghostbur is proof that he knows how to stick the knife in and pretend it’s an accident, but since it was for roleplay I was watching/letting it happen for artistic effect. Through Ghostbur, Wilbur (as a writer, admittedly) had free reign to press directly on people’s sore spots, and he did, often. It shows what he’s paying attention to, what his reflexes are, and what he’s capable of when the two mix.

Ghostbur was made as a utility (so he could be around his friends on the server) but he also had a gimmick to him, the amnesia that kept him ‘innocent.’ If it can be said that people were ‘supposed to’ do anything while they were watching, we were ‘meant to’ question his ongoing impulse to bury his head in the sand using his blue, or at least recognise it as dark. While I wasn’t looking for analysis at the time (I might not have even been around?) I didn’t see much to this effect, so people might have taken him more at face value. If I had to guess, I would say that he started getting frustrated at people for not understanding the points he was trying to make with Ghostbur, ironically for not seeing the dark parts that he put in him.  He may also have been angry at himself for trying to do something that didn’t work, he gets very sensitive about stuff like that.

In an attempted hardcore stream with Niki, Wilbur made an offhanded comment that kind of reframed Ghostbur for me, he sounded sad that people liked Ghostbur (implicitly better than they liked alivebur.) Now it’s not unusual for Wilbur to be dismissive about his own successes if he retroactively labels them as cheap (he was weird about his You Laugh You Loose for a bit) and I don’t get to know exactly what his relationship to Ghostbur was, but I have a feeling he was bitter. People like my dopey little ghost mask more than they like my explosive unhinged bitter self character. Ghostbur had to go, and he died as he lived: a bid to make people feel distress.

It is not a coincidence that revivedbur came back so perfectly insensitive to the people and things around him, especially Ghostbur.

I sent the Ghostbur Limbo reddit posts to my friend once and we were both cracking up at how blatantly he was stabbing the voodoo doll of Ghostbur to try and make people sad. He’s done this twice while he was sick, and I am sure that it was him trying to spread his misery around. (I’m also of the opinion that the train station is a metaphor for how he felt at the time when he was playing Ghostbur, if he himself was Revivedbur.) I’m getting the sense that he’ll do something with Ghostbur in the end, but he’ll never give up good leverage on anything but his own terms.

In real-life streams, it generally comes down to vibes. It just felt like he was asking for emotional results from a lot of his actions, even if they were just little split-second ones. The number of things that he seemed to do on purpose, or at least had a desired malicious effect attached to them, got weird. Streamer should not be this angry at me, I am but a little frog.

Most of the time he passes it off as being English, but I promise you it’s not that.

[sofreddie]

Stashed Away

Summary: With their biological clocks ticking, the brothers set out to find their True Mates, before it's too late.

Characters: Alpha!Dean x OC!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Unnamed!Omega

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mating, Marking, True Mates, Institutionalized Reader, Heavily Medicated Reader, Implied/Mentioned Sterilization

Word Count: 2,876

A/N: For @spnabobingo 2021 - Free Space. This is my first square on my first ever bingo card. Let me know what you think!

Sam and Dean - Winchesters, Alpha hunters - for years they dedicated themselves to the life. But now that they're getting older, and still without mates, they're starting to go feral. Ruts happen more often, are stronger, and last longer. If they don't find mates soon, they will go feral, hurt a bunch of people, and die. So they do a spell, with Cas's suggestion, to find their true mates. They've always acted like they didn't want it, weren't interested, but there's no pretending anymore.

Following the tracking that the spell gave them - they track down Sam's True Mate first. Dean's more worried about getting Sam right than himself at the moment. The tracking leads them to a small town - a case is here, they quickly learn, vamps - by the time they figure out what's going on, they head to the nest, only to find a woman there, taking the head off a vamp, two other bodies at her feet. She’s a hunter - and a badass one at that, taken three vamps down on her own.

Dean's a little agitated, he needed some blood to help balance out the feral rut that's been burning him alive from the inside. Sam however, is speechless. His blood roars in his veins, pounding in his temples as his eyes lock onto her form. He knows - he can feel it with every fiber of his being - she’s his…his True Mate.

"Mega," he wines, taking a step forward only to fall to his knees in weakness, "Need you," he groans, before falling to his side and promptly passing out - the fever too high and rampant.

After quick introductions and explanations, Dean convinces her to come back to their motel. It just happens that she's in the same one, a few doors down. Dean drags Sam into the room, dropping him on one of the beds with a growl. He's getting too old to be dragging his giant of a brother like a sack of potatoes.

“I’ll get another room,” Dean offered, trying to move around her so as not to set Sam off, “I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he offered with a tight smile, nodding at her before leaving and closing the door behind him.

The next morning, seeing Sam’s much improved condition, Dean smiled before entering the motel room and seeing the Omega sat on the bed, a fresh claiming mark at her neck.

“Well, welcome to the team,” Dean joked, still keeping his distance from her as he knew Sam would still be testy over anyone coming near his Omega, “So listen,” he added a bit abruptly, “I figured you and her could snag a car, make your way back to the Bunker,” he explained to his brother, “I know you two need some time. Fresh bond and all. And I still gotta…you know,” he added sheepishly. Now that Sam’s rut had cleared, he could see how bad Dean was in it.

It was time for him to find his Omega.

Dean sighed as he put the Impala in park, looking through the windshield up at the large facility in front of him. When he and Sam did the spell to locate their mates, they looked up the locations to plan out their routes. That’s when they discovered that Dean’s True Mate’s location - was a psychiatric hospital. He couldn’t imagine why, but he hoped that maybe it was something he could help with.

He tried his best to compose himself, feeling weak and barely holding back from losing himself to his biology. Using his FBI credentials, he was led to a common room, the nurse pointing across the room to a woman sat along, staring out the window. Dean nodded to her and the nurse returned to her duties.

Dean gulped down the hard lump in his throat that threatened to burst into a growl. From the other side of the room he could smell her scent, climbing in and flooding his brain. He tried to shake it off, sweat forming on his brow from the fever, and he urged his body to move towards her calmly.

His scent hit her as she gazed aimlessly out the window. A warmth flowed through her and she closed her eyes, humming in content. She opened them once more, her gaze still outside, as she started gently rocking.

“‘Mega…” Dean breathed quietly, his eyes fluttering closed in small intervals as he approached and her scent got stronger. It was driving him crazy, but he had to be wary of his surroundings, wary of her. He had to stay calm. With long controlled breaths he finally reached his goal, pulling a seat opposite the Omega and huffing out a shaky breath.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes gently rolling over his face and body before meeting his eyes once more. Her face was blank, but she looked pale and tired and afraid.

“W-who are you?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

Now he was here he didn’t know what to do. His brain was too full of other ideas. His cheeks had grown slightly pink from the quickly growing fever. “M-my name’s Dean Winchester,” he said quietly, “I…you…” he had to stop and clench his eyes for a moment, swallowing another hard lump in his throat, “You’re my True Mate.”

She looked him over once more, taking a deeper breath, before her eyes turned sad, “You’re dying too?” she asked, emotionless in features and tone.

Dean tilted his head at the question, frowning slightly, “Do you mean turning feral?” he had to gulp again, shifting in his seat as his body ached.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, “Too many meds to really know the difference.” She suddenly lurched forward, her elbows on the table as she looked at him intently and wide-eyed, “They say I’m crazy, you know? That what I saw wasn’t what I saw, but I saw what I saw!” she nodded manically along to her words, “You don’t need a crazy Omega.” she shook her head emphatically, looking down at her lap.

Dean jolted back in surprise at her small outburst, but his rational mind kicked in. He’d seen these places before and the meds they give patients, “I’ve seen a lot of things,” he offered, “So why don’t you tell me what you saw?”

“I didn’t do it,” she whisper-hissed, leaning forward on the table and glancing around the room before looking at him again, “He did, he came in and killed her, not me!”

Dean frowned again, his head jumping to ‘potential case mode’, “So, there was a guy?” he pressed her for more information, “What did he look like?”

“He was just a guy,” she shook her head, “B-but his eyes were weird,” she exclaimed wide eyed as if it was happening before her once more, “He killed her and he said I had to come with him because my Alpha was a very bad man. A-and then his eyes…” she trailed off, shaking her head and fighting back tears, “I got away, went to the police…b-but no one believes me.” she whispered sadly.

Dean’s body almost trembled with quickly growing anger. Someone or something knew what he and Sam had been doing. They hurt his Omega.

My Omega.

Mine.

“You’re not crazy,” he growled, quickly rising from his seat and looking down at her, “Omega, we’re leaving.”

She looked up at him in confusion, shaking her head, “I can’t leave,” she stated simply, “I’m scheduled for sterilization to stop my heat hurting me,” she explained as if it were a simple, everyday activity, “Doctor’s orders,” she nodded, turning back to look out the window.

The next thing Dean knew, he had his Omega in his arms and was standing beside the Impala. He was panting for breath and felt exhausted. He had some vague memory of a lot of snarling, roaring and punching Doctors directly in the face.

And now they were here.

“I’m gonna take you somewhere where you’ll be safe,” he breathed, looking down at…uh… “W-what’s your name, Omega?”

“Y/N,” she answered reflexively, still in an emotionless haze through it all, but relinquishing to her Alpha. “You shouldn’t have taken me,” she added, “The man with the eyes, I’ve seen him outside the window sometimes. And my heat is killing me. I’m a disposable Omega.”

“No,” Dean said suddenly and harshly, his arms held her tighter - his splayed out palms squeezing her. He bit back another growl, the scent of her heat crashing into him like a brick wall now his adrenaline fueled outburst was simmering down, “Never say that. You’re my Omega,” he pressed his forehead onto hers, gasping for breath as his body threatened to buckle as he grew weak, “Please…l-let me take care of you.”

She looked at the man, the stranger, the Alpha who had suddenly come in and tore her from her prison, like a knight rescuing a maid from a tower. She wanted to laugh at that, but she’d long ago lost her ability to emote.

They had kept her constantly medicated, to control her heat, her scent, her mind, her actions, anything they possibly could. But for some reason, something about him broke through her constant haze and made her want to just let him take charge.

“Okay, Alpha,” she agreed, just looking at him as she waited for whatever came next.

“‘Mega…” he breathed, voice breaking slightly from restraint. He held her so close, but not close enough at the same time. He could feel her warmth as he held her, her breath fanning across his lips. Some of that restraint slipped. He pressed his lips firmly into hers, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he hummed hungrily.

She pulled from the kiss, her hand gently cupping his cheek and turning his head to see several personnel searching the lot and searching for him, before one of them pointed at him and shouted for his companion.

“Right,” Dean stared wide-eyed before shaking himself back to reality. After ushering Y/N into the car, he quickly climbed in, the loud tire screeching of the Impala tires shortly following as Dean tore the car out of the lot and sped down the road.

When he said ‘somewhere safe’ before, he had meant the Bunker. The way his body was reacting right now however - aching, yearning, pleading to just touch her - he was ninety-nine percent sure he couldn’t last.

There was that motel just a few miles out though…

Y/N said nothing during the drive, her eyes out the window as before at the facility. She seemed still and calm, but also fragile and numb. But inwardly she felt trapped in her own head and unable to break free. She had dreamed about her Alpha, her True Mate, many times as had most people. And now that he was here, she was unable to even really experience it.

The next thing she realized, she was waking up in an unfamiliar room. She was somewhat dazed but her mind and body felt clear for the first time in a long time. She opened her eyes, sitting up slightly to two men at the foot of the bed she was lying in. One was the Alpha from before, the other a new stranger.

“I’ve healed and cleansed her,” Castiel explained, “But Dean-”

Dean had stumbled back, leaning against the wall as he eyes remained on fixed on Y/N. Castiel’s words were like white noise to him, he knew she was healed. If he thought her scent was powerful before, now with all the suppressants - and fuck knows what else - out of her system, it was like it had been turned up to eleven.

His head dropped back with a thud against the wall, his eyes clenching with a restrained growl. “‘Mega…” he breathed, his chest heaving and sweat forming on his brow.

She whimpered as her eyes set on him. She hadn’t felt a full heat in a long time and this one was especially bad. She knew it was him. She could remember their words, his touch, his lips.

“Alpha,” she called meekly, tentatively reaching up a hand in invite from her position on the bed.

“-Sh-she’s still in full heat,” Cas finished his sentence, taking a wary step back as he eyed the duo cautiously.

“Out,” Dean ordered, not even turning to address the Angel.

And Cas vanished.

Before Y/N could blink, Dean was there. His hands bunched in the back of her hair as he hungrily devoured her lips.

She moaned as they connected, his heat and weight soothing her ache and need. Her heart swelled, but a part of him also felt familiar, as if she’d known him all along. She pulled from the kiss, gazing into his eyes, frantic with need but also wanting to savor every moment. When she noticed how far gone he really was, she decided to let him take what he needed.

“My Alpha,” she whispered, kissing him once more.

There was a small rumble in Dean’s throat as his bloodshot eyes gazed directly back into her. He breathed, “Mine,” before his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth attached to her neck. He kissed and sucked a trail down to her collarbone, pressing his body into her as he fully mounted the bed and towered over her. He wanted to smother himself in her scent, every touch sending waves of need through him.

His hips rolled into her, his brain fogging as he quickly pulled at her shirt, ripping it clean off in one swoop before he hungrily mouthed at the swell of her breast.

She could feel the tremble in his muscles as he fought to keep the beast at bay, trying not to scare or hurt her. But she knew he needed more and she wanted to prove she could handle whatever her Alpha gave her.

“I won’t break,” she pleaded, pulling his lips from her body, “Take what you need Alpha, please,” she whispered desperately.

Dean’s eyes darkened, staring at her half-lidded before his hands moved fast. As he hungrily devoured her mouth once more, he quickly stripped them both of their clothes. His hands roamed her with need, quickly moving down to her center before two digits swiftly dove into her core.

He growled as he felt her slick, curling his fingers and pressing firmly into her g-spot, his eyes rolling back as she moaned in surprise. He quickly withdrew his fingers, moving to grab her hips and flip her onto her stomach. He hoisted her hips up to meet him, letting out a low moan as he rutted his painful hard erection through her folds.

She moaned wantonly, arching her back and presenting for him obediently. She purred, rutting back into him, desperate for her Alpha.

He moaned out, mouth hanging open longingly. “My Omega…” he growled lowly, positing the head of his cock between her folds and gripping her hips tightly, “Wanna knot you…” he growled again - hungrier - before slamming his hips forward with a loud grunt. She was perfect, tightening like a vice around him that he hissed blissfully, quickly pistoning his hips with choked huffs and growls.

She moaned loudly, panting hard as Dean set a brutal pace. His grip was tight, his cock filling her completely, slamming hard into her cervix on every thrust. She reached her arms above her, grasping onto the end of the bed for something to hold onto. Using the leverage, she pushed her hips harder back into him, lifting her head to groan out.

Dean leaned forward, his breathing quick and erratic as he pounded her. His lips grazed and sucked on her neck as he moaned, feeling the muscle at the head of his cock begin to swell. His grunts became strained as fought to keep his pace. “Cum on my knot, ‘Mega,” he demanded, releasing one of her hips to rub hard circles on her clit.

Feeling his knot swell she knew she was close to losing her mind. When his fingers found her clit, she stuttered and screamed as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching his throbbing length within her. Dean seemed to draw it out as her pleasure seemed to never end.

As her wall clenched him impossibly tighter, Dean roared through one final harsh thrust, holding himself as deep as possible as he finally came, his hot cum shooting deep and filling her. The hand still holding Y/N’s hip gripped bruisingly tight as Dean suddenly bit into her skin.

As her mind finally broke free of the haze of bliss, she realized he had positioned them on their sides spooning. Dean was nuzzling into the mark on her neck and humming, his hands grazing over her skin.

“Who was that man from before?” she suddenly asked, remembering feeling free of the medications and seeing a man there before he just wasn’t there.

“‘N Angel,” Dean mumbled, breathing in her hair and holding her tightly to him, “Cas. Healed you.”

Y/N smirked to herself, rubbing a hand over his forearm that was wrapped around her, “I see you’re still in caveman mode,” she teased.

He smirked with a small hum, not letting her go, ever.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[cavehags]

Do you have any thoughts on the way things are going with Guillermo and nandor’s relationship? I ask bc you seem like a big fan of Guillermo (correct opinion) but perhaps more Nandor apathetic

i am not sure i totally understand the question! i do love guillermo because he's a fascinating and compelling character in his own right, with his feelings for nandor just one small piece of the puzzle. never content to let guillermo be a simple audience surrogate, the writers and harvey guillen work together to make him incredibly specific, dynamic, and weird. because of the show's formula, guillermo has to be a dynamic character. he's the only character who can ever change! and he is someone you can't help but root for. his coy sense of humor, his tension around sex, his exasperation where his delusional ambition and cold reality meet--he's so fucking real and so fucking funny. a repressed catholic boy turned goth gay people-pleaser. i love that he knows the vampires well enough to manipulate them but not well enough to understand the one truth about them that affects his own future: that they will never give him what he wants. and i love how the show has built on this character over time. it's such juicy irony that he was cursed with the exact last skills he wanted to have. season two was so good because the show let him be hot at the same time that it let him hate every stake he reflexively, successfully threw into another vampire's heart. reluctant action hero who wants to be at home doing nandor's laundry. and now we're getting the even more satisfying payoff in the reveal that against all odds, the skills he was so afraid of turned out to be the very skills he needed to create change in his standing with the vampires. guillermo wants to be like a vampire--to get power in one quick moment and never have to confront any change in his life again. but as a mortal, he's facing changes all the time and he is forced to work through them to become a stronger person on the other side. it's so great to watch.

as to nandor and guillermo's relationship, i think a good way to look at wwdits is to remember that it's kind of like it's always sunny in philadelphia, in that vampires never change. guillermo can change, and he is always changing. giving his feelings for nandor a name is kind of cool. there's another version of this show where that wouldn't have happened, either because the show was married to the concept of constantly disappointing guillermo by keeping nandor oblivious of his inner life or because of a sentiment that the language of vampire and familiar say more than the real-world emotions that guillermo's feelings can best be likened to. i feel like giving nandor the opportunity to see something in guillermo that might have frustrated the audience to watch bubbling under the surface for too much longer ultimately does a service to both characters. it gives nandor's actions more stakes and it allows guillermo an opportunity to face reality about his life, something he's been quite reluctant to do so far.

but if you're asking if i think the show is going to make their relationship a more realistically romantic one, i really don't think so! i expect that guillermo will continue to learn new ways to communicate with nandor to get what he wants, and nandor will dabble in listening to him, but their relationship is fundamentally too unequal and one-sided for them to be, like, boyfriends. that's the fun thing about vampire stories though. there is a real sexual tension that the show isn't shy about addressing (even from the first minutes of the pilot, we see that outsiders are constantly mistaking the pair of them for weird kinksters), and their codependence on each other combined with the sexual language and physical intimacy they share make for something that i think is more interesting to watch than a straightforward dating relationship. i like that the show seems to agree with that, while still acknowledging that for guillermo, their dynamic isn't just close to a romance; it is a romance, and one that can never really make him happy. it's the "have your cake and eat it too" of gay-coded and toxic supernatural love. might not be for everyone but it's definitely hitting for me.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing #81 Review

i swear i actually thought no one was interested so i didn’t write one but a grand total of two (2) people said they wanted to read it, so here it is. honestly, my opinion’s been going a bit downhill, but the art is really cool and there are some decent parts so. holding out i guess? i really hope taylor has an end goal or at least a cohesive plan, otherwise i don’t see this series going anywhere i’ll particularly enjoy

the cover is very straightforward in its imagery, this villain has nightwing in the palm of his hand, easily manipulated, easily controlled no matter the action dick thinks he’ll take. 

what i find interesting is the colour: both previously and heavily in this issue, the colourist has chosen to make pink this villain’s main colour, with different shades of pink as accents. so why the red in the cover? possibly to just make it more eye-grabbing, though one could argue that pink is even more eye-catching than red. maybe to convey a sense of dread or fear that pink won’t fully get across. either way, it’s definitely a decision i’m curious about.

so melinda zucco is in a high enough political position within bludhaven that she is next in line to become the mayor after the previous mayor died and dick just,,,,didn’t have any idea she existed? dick didn’t know anything about her? forget dick’s own brilliant detective skills, forget his doggedness at anything zucco related, you’re telling me bruce never found her and told dick about her? maybe he wouldn’t have now, but back when dick was a young kid, he definitely would have at least made dick aware of her existence, to let dick know and ask if he wanted to interfere with her life or anything.

i have a thought about zucco’s facial expressions. she is very much stone-cold poker face throughout the entire issue. the only time i see her pull a different expression is near the end when dick corners her against a wall with an arm around her throat. 

this is most certainly intentional, what with the varied and intense expressions we see on other characters, dick most prominently. i’m wondering what exactly is the creative team’s reasoning behind this. in these panels, zucco is meeting with the most dangerous, powerful, near-bloodthirsty man in all of bludhaven and becoming the mayor of the city respectfully. in both of these panels, there is barely a hint of emotion in her face: no fear, no determination, no satisfaction. it’s just odd, considering the circumstances she’s in, regardless of any training recieved.

just spitballing here but. like. from what i’ve read so far, dick doesn’t really seem like bludhaven’s guardian angel. more like when peter parker first put on spandex and blindly stepped out into new york.

dick, how exactly can you underestimate someone from one move. so he caught your escrima. anyone with enhanced reflexes can do that. you still don’t know how he can actually fight, and this is shown in the next set of panels. 

i just don’t like the wording here. dick’s “underestimated” him, but beats him up easy in the next page. in addition, i don’t know much about combat, but i would assume it would take more than one move to determine exactly what an opponent’s skill level is, made even more complex when you add physical enhancements and metahumans and aliens into the mixture.

idk my first thought when i saw that he caught the stick was “ah ok he’s enhanced” because obviously he couldn’t have reacted fast enough if he wasn’t (as there are few people trained enough to catch it on human reflexes alone.) then the wording in the next panel, i’ve underestimated him, made me think “oh no ok so he’s not enhanced, he’s just a really good fighter and can give dick a run for his money in a fight.” then, it turns out my first assumption was proven correct in the next panel. it just comes across as misleading to me.

(also sidenote but his curls are cute.)

have i praised the art enough in this series? no, i have not.

i adore the way this is laid out and illustrated. without even having to read the text, the action sequence is visually engaging and intense, and easily followable from one panel to the next. dick’s physical expertise comes through quite efficiently, and i love the special attention shown to draw our attention to dick’s escrima in the bottom right corner.

also that move in the middle row leftmost panel that’s the mcu black widow move to get up off the ground it was the first thing i noticed and it made me laugh; thought it was worth noting

i’m really loving dick’s escrima sticks in this run. they’re just so multipurpose, it’s hilarious and exhilarating. kinda reminds me of bruce’s belt, the way the button in the middle does eevveeerrryyytthhiinngg. 

got a problem? don’t worry! dick’s installed a feature into his escrima that can fix that! (i like thinking dick helped make them it makes me happy and makes my engineer!dick side satisfied)

yawn. your big heart is your one true weakness yadda yadda the fact that you care will be used against you blah blah we get it. jesus can the villains please find a different weakness to exploit, this is getting old.

i need dick’s capacity to empathize and care and love to stop being a weakness that villains sneer about. bonus points if dick saves everyone anyway, either because of or despite his great big heart and the villain is surprised by the goodness of mankind or some shit like that.

i need it to be a strength, right from the get-go. the fact that he cares so incredibly much should be an asset that dick has and will use. he’s a very complex character with years of background, it can’t possibly be that hard to find another weakness of his. 

ooooh this is cool, gosh i absolutely love this.

because what exactly is the reader doing? we are seeing the fear in dick’s face, just as this villain intended. even better, we’re seeing the reflection of it from the villain’s glossy mask, telling us exactly what we’re seeing and exactly what he likes so much about it.

dick’s standing up straight, shoulders drawn back, looking up at this villain’s face with determination and resolve, but his suit is tattered. one eye looks to be swollen. his hair is falling limply around his eyes, as opposed to the curls from earlier. his escrima aren’t even part of the main focus, instead blending into the side of the mask in the outer corners of the mask’s eyes, which tells you exactly how big of a threat they are to this villain.

poor bitewing’s quite alarmed.

also on second thought why would you bring your puppy out like this, when you know you’re gonna end up fighting someone in the suit. a) how many grey three-legged adorable little puppies live in the bludhaven area dick? and how easy will it be to connect the doggo running around with nightwing with the doggo that dick grayson owns? and 2) is this puppers trained? does she have fighting experience? how exactly can you ensure she will survive this highly stressful situation?

dick take better care of your dog 

you know what? i was with tim on this one. why exactly is dick so optimistic and trusting about the people of bludhaven? bludhaven, which has been described as gotham’s smaller, smellier, more corrupt sister city once or twice. it’s not just the corrupt people in power, the entire system needs to change and people need to have faith and hope in order for them to come together, espcially if they’ve been living in conditions like how bludhaven has been described. from how clueless dick is about his own goddamn city, i can tell he hasn’t been here long.

it was a nice moment of hope, i’ll admit. but it was a tad unrealistic for me.

also it was in a weird place in the comic. this sort of confrontation and big get-together of the people to rejuvenate hope in each other feels like it should come near the end of a run, if not the end of an issue. certainly not in the first third of an issue. the pacing’s a bit off to me.

loyal little puppy patiently waiting for her human to wake up. i love her so much.

no it’s not. it’s bitewing.

living for this t-shirt honestly. do comics of dc characters exist in the dc universe? they must if the mug and the shirt are any indication

(now i’m imagining the first batman movie that came out in the dc universe and bruce just. being so offended at who they chose to play him.)

well, yes. but when a group of people are put through hellish conditions over and over again, they soon become desensitized to the pain and terror of their everyday lives in order to both stay sane and keep their life relatively stable, and part of that becomes ignoring or blocking out anything that isn’t directly important to you or your loved ones. having a bleeding heart will most likely get you killed in a city like bludhaven if you don’t have the same skills that vigilantes have.

and of course, people are more than capable of coming together and rallying under their city’s vigilante after seeing the good they’ve done and how they’ve helped the people, but that sort of trust takes time and effort to build. dick also had the whole ric arc and was gone for a while, which has been referenced several times in this particular issue in fact. that’s not going to make bludhaven’s citizens any more likely to trust him.

maybe i’m being a bit harsh but this comic is comic off as a bit too idealistic for the amount of change nightwing can do in a city given the present and past circumstances as well as nightwing’s own abilities. even dick grayson can’t pull off everything.

ok seriously this needs to stop this needs to stop.

right now, dick reminds me of oliver queen in the few episodes of the cw’s arrow i watched. he does the punchy-kicky-fighty and occasionally has smart insights due to the skills he gained from his past that he certainly definitely totally has but only ever exhibits once, while his team does all of the background research and information gathering and actual work.

this is dick’s city. if he has the same intelligence, worth ethic, and stubbornness in this run that he’s been shown to possess all his life, then he knows this city inside out. he’ll have meticulous notes organized in a ridiculously efficient system, he’ll have scouted out zucco long before this started, he’ll have known when anything big happened in the bludhaven political landscape in an instant.

i’m really not liking exactly how much dick’s relying on babs and tim in this series. sure, he loves them and cares for them and likes working cases with them. but he always pulls his own weight, has always been a mentor figure to tim instead of what’s weirdly becoming the other way around, and takes point on the cases in his own damn city.

what kind of weak-ass oracle is this?? redacted fbi files are child’s play. babs used to hack into the fbi for fun. this one particular picture is so out of character i want to laugh.

reading this series has unfortunately made me confront that, despite the tiny fluid acrobat dick that lives in my head 24/7, canon dick is impossibly 5′10 and muscular at that.

mmm. titties.

tim said hydrate or die-drate bitch

love how dick’s doing all this intense brooding and stuff meanwhile bitewing is curled up in a soft comfy post having the time of her life.

you don’t understand i would legitimately kill myself for her.

also the lighting in this one scene is cool. the blue tones come off so well.

they’re just. so multipurpose!! they can become a bo staff. they can cut glass. they can become a grapple hook/line. they can electrify someone. they’re a funky colour. i’m becoming really attached to these things. absolute solid choice in weaponry.

if you’re gonna write up every rookie mistake dick has made during this series to head trauma, then dick shouldn’t be out and about at all, much less in costume.

see this? this is just straight up wrong. dick most definitely should have spotted her, and would have immediately moved to take her down.

scratch that, dick would have done a full check of the building, because he knows not to break into places uninformed, especially if the owner of the apartment was raised by the maroni family. someone as highly trained, experienced, and competent as dick wouldn’t have done this.

and if you chalk it up to head injury, (which is probably true), than his ~love interest~ and his little brother should have done a much better job making sure he stays in his house.

zucco looks so awkward it’s fucking hilarious

are those shadows that mimic a domino mask, to both reflect and hide the fact that his mask is missing? are those bruises around his eyes, to show how, despite what good he’s doing, being nightwing is hurting dick right now? 

(isn’t his domino mask supposed to have an electrifying feature that keeps people from removing them?)

it’s a little odd how the three known villains of this series are all coloured in warm shades, more specifically pink. meanwhile, in earlier issues, dick’s fondest memories were in pink, memories of him and alfred in particular. why has the colour pink changed from signifying something benevolent to something malicious? idk i hope this gets explained later.

this i did like. either it’s just a display of brute force in anger, or dick slipped the ties and pulled them off once untied. both ways, it’s an unintentional display of power, and i think that’s kinda cool.

again. dick is,,,tall? sort of? weirdddd

i’m so glad most readers are unified in the notion that this was the absolute dumbest fucking thing.

i’m hoping this gets disproved or something soon. and i hope dick doesn’t fall for it, because he definitely knows better than to take something as important as this at face value.

what exactly is taylor trying to accomplish here? why is he trying to go back on what we all knew was a happy, loving childhood and throw strife and disharmony and (what i’m assuming will be) infidelity? this will not end well at all.

---

,,,,,this review got way longer than expected lol. and i realize most of it just became me ranting. i guess i didn’t realize how ticked off i was originally. fingers crossed it gets better.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds​ @comics-observer

[wyrmy-fics]

HC’s for what the Choi twins+Vanderwood’s love language would be?

🥁🥁🥁 First ever request!

Love language is one of my favorite things to write so I was excited to see this one was submitted! I've never written for Vanderwood, though... Let's see how this goes.

Reblogs are highly appreciated. :)

Love Languages

Includes: Saeyoung, Saeran, Vanderwood

Warnings -> Slight mention of injuries.

Type: Character x MC/Reader (GN)

Saeyoung:

When it comes to showing his love language, Saeyoung falls within Gift Giving.

During the first few days of knowing him, it was clear that the notorious Seven-Zero-Seven was not only a skilled hacker, but an amazing tinkerer.

Out of all things someone could craft together, Seven found himself making a fire-breathing mechanical dog to protect you.

And then he tinkered some more,

And more...

Soon enough, his house was filled with spare parts, and his mind was equally filled with what you would think about these gifts.

But whenever the hacker situation worsened and your safety was on the line, all of those little trinkets and inventions had to be left behind.

It's been a year now, and it's become painfully obvious Saeyoungs love for gift giving hasn't died down.

More inventions were made and some were turned into prototypes for his toy shop. You and him agreed to get a shelf dedicated to all of them.

The little toy cat that could read emotions and send alerts, a pen that would sing different tunes as you were writing, another plushied cat that could reach to the ceiling...

You figured that last one was more for his personal enjoyment.

But the gifts didn't stop there. They were also material and temporary.

The first Valentine's day you spent together, you thought you could explode with the amount of chocolate you two had eaten.

It was hard to get through the front door with the massive stuffed animal there to greet you.

And on top of this, rose petals scattered it's way to the dinner table where you two could enjoy your night together. (The rose petals were recommended from Zen.)

"I plan on giving you the stars one day, but until then, these will do!"

For the other half of his love language, let's talk about receiving.

Now, while Saeyoung enjoys anything and everything you do, Quality Time would be the best way to describe it.

"Stay away from me, I'm dangerous."

"Then why are you making such a fuss to sit right next to me...?"

"... Protection."

Yes, it is true that he wouldn't leave the apartments main room in order to make sure another break-in doesn't happen,

But was the game of hide and seek necessarily for protection, Saeyoung?

After spending so much time with you in the apartment, it felt weird to be anywhere else.

Once you both had gotten out of view of Mint Eye and the agency, there was a plentiful of dates between you two.

They didn't need to be extravegant dinner dates. If you offered to watch a movie with him that night, you could swear you saw the faint sight of a tail wagging.

"Even when I pushed you away so much, you still want to spend time with me? Thank you..."

Saeran:

Love languages were new to Saeran. Of course they made sense, but the term was something he had never heard before.

On the giving side of his love language, Saeran was excellent in terms of Physical Touch.

As soon as you made your way to Magenta to test his "game", Ray held your hand all the way to your room.

It was so you wouldn't trip, he explained, but he would be lying to say there wasn't any enjoyment on the way there.

After that, there were friendly touches that slipped into your conversations and walks together.

A hand on the shoulder to make sure you were being guided in the right direction, a few gloved fingers brushing against your own when you complimented him, or simply standing close enough to feel your warmth mixing with his own.

Then came Saeran...

Personal space wasn't allowed in his book. He still wanted to touch you, anywhere he could feel skin, and push any limits that were possible.

He wanted to be the strongest.

The bite on your shoulder or your arms being pinned down to the ground were so different from Ray's gentle touches, but you could tell the motivations were the same.

When Saeran asked you to kiss him just like Ray, that's when it was evident his feelings were still present. He still wanted to feel that warmth and affection, no matter how many times it was denied.

And when Saeran woke up from his manipulated state, the first thing on his mind was to have his arms around you again.

You escaped the believers and Mint Eye all together, and the grip on your hand only tightened.

The only time he let go of your hand was to replace it with holding your cheeks, his forehead meeting yours.

"Everything you do makes me feel whole again."

Now, about receiving... That would fall under the category of Words of Affirmation.

Handsome, beautiful, trustworthy, funny...

Even his own name sounded like such a high compliment when it came from you.

If there's ever a moment of distress, all Saeran needs to hear is you saying you love him.

Whenever the chance is given, he would shower you in praise and compliments, but you always had a better way with words.

When you both began helping in the intelligence unit, there wasn't a day that went by without the workers there saying how amazing Saeran was at hacking and gathering information.

They never felt the same, though. A simple "good job" from you made his day a thousand times better.

Small words of endearment and nicknames were like kryptonite to him. There was never enough and too much for his heart at the same time.

"Say that again, please... I love hearing you say those things.”

Vanderwood:

An agent like him doesn't need to believe in those kinds of things, right?

Wrong.

He would never admit to it upfront, but Miss Mary Vanderwood loves Acts of Service.

You could consider him the classic Tsundere with how much of a fuss he would make while handing you the documents you asked for.

If you needed help reaching something on a high shelf, he would instantly bring it down for you, all while commenting about your height.

But even when these became a usual part of your day, there were times Vanderwood would show sincerity.

After handling a few papers across your work space, the tiniest paper cut swiped across your finger.

It wasn't enough to earn much of a reaction or any pain to yourself, but that case was different in Vanderwood's eyes.

As if on reflex, he made his way over to you, taking your hand in his to scan over the small injury. You assured him you're alright, however he didn't listen.

With a careful tug, he took you into the kitchen and brought out a first aid kit, looking over the different sizes of bandaids there were. You stayed quiet to let him do as he pleased.

Even when he reminded you to be more careful and take everything seriously, his voice was softer than usual. It wasn't filled with annoyance, but of concern.

The closer you two grew together, the more Vanderwood would offer himself to you and any assitance you may need.

"Don't think too much about it, okay? I'm just being a nice guy is all."

And lastly, for the love he would want to receive, is none other than Words of Affirmation.

The first time he sent you that one notorious selfie and you complimented him, something struck his heart.

A simple response and a "thank you" is all that's heard from him, but what's not visible is his inner conflict.

Does he like this? Is it an insult? Surely you can't be serious.

Those compliments would grow and grow, all the way up to praising him for his efforts on helping the situation.

Perhaps this ties into Acts of Service. If he can help in some kind of way, you would tell him he did good, yes?

That was his plan, at least.

Good job, I'm proud of you, you look great today, I love you...

"You don't say those to anyone else, right? No reason why."

Thank you for the request! I hope this is what you had in mind. ^^

- 💙

[sophlubbwriting]

Shifting to your arms - 02

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: This is a slice-of-life series where you, the reader successfully shifted realities with the goal to spend time with Loki. Nothing too intense.

A/N: I was quite scared to write a fight scene, especially since my knowledge about actual fights was... limited... but here it is! I hope y'all like it!

Feel free to shoot me a request and I'll see what I can do!

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks​ @adoreyou976​

Feedback is always appreciated!

Chapter Summary: Fight training with the god of mischief. There isn’t much else to it.

Chapter warnings: fight training, self doubts, Loki being Loki

Word count: 2016

9:50pm.

Lucky for you, a pair of black sweatpants plus an oversized zip-up hoodie just waited for you in your wardrobe.

You couldn’t waste any more time and felt comfortable with your choice of clothes, so you opened the door and stepped out on the hallway. The whole tower felt more silent than it had been a few hours earlier which might be caused by the time Loki had picked. Everyone was following their respective evening routine, but it isn't too late to be seen in the corridors.

While strutting to the gym, you checked whether you had everything with you. You got a bottle of water, that's it. After all, what else did you need?

Contemplating your choice, you were doubting yourself. Would Loki be a good teacher? What would he teach you? He is a true genius when in regards to all things magic, he was also a master manipulator, but the god of mischief doesn't seem like someone well-versed in hand to hand combat.

However, Loki really seems to love his daggers. Honestly, it's kind of weird how he isn't the god of daggers as well, it would surely be a fitting title. Maybe you can somehow convince him to give you a dagger and show you how to fight with it.

Receiving one of Loki's truly beautiful daggers sounds like a great idea, but it would probably hit too close to home for Loki. Giving someone their dagger, is a huge tradition in Asgard connected with courting someone after all.

So, looks like you won't get a dagger.

As you entered the gym, the smell of new gym mats and sweat flew in your face, but what ended up taking your breath away was the backside of someone's infamous asgardian combat clothing. Why was he standing there? Has he been pacing up and down while waiting for you? You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him waiting for you impatiently.

“Oh look at that, right on time. I didn't expect that  from a midgarian.”

Of course Loki would talk down on you based on your midgarian heritage, that was predictable. It would have been out of character if he didn't, honestly.

He sighed and he finally turned around, a hint of a smirk was still visible on his face.

“But at last you're here, so let's...”

Slowly mustering you, he took a moment to finish his sentence, dropping his smirk.

“...begin. Is that what midgarians deem as 'fashionable'?”

And with it the grin you wore was washed away. His mischievous tone vanished rather quickly, causing you to feel quite self aware. Your confidence from earlier? Gone, just like that.

His words hurt you more than you anticipated, but you tried your best to hide your vulnerability.

In an attempt to defend your choice in clothes, you told him that you valued comfortability over style. “Unlike you, I don't have to dress to impress.” you added. Scrunching his nose the god wanted to drop another sassy comment, but he decided otherwise.

You shook your head. Being still a bit salty after his rude comment, you voiced your doubts.

“Honestly, I don't know anymore if you were the correct choice.”

Nothing.

You both just stood there and looked into each others eyes. For a second you thought Loki's eyes looked... disappointed?

The silence was unbearable, but neither of you knew what to say, until Loki found his voice again.

“Pardon me?” he asked, finally breaking the silence after what felt like hours, but could have been only seconds.

In an effort to do some sort of damage control, you couldn't stop yourself from rambling and explaining yourself.

“You're an awesome sorcerer and I can't even imagine what you're capable of doing with those... those daggers, but... how much do you actually know about hand to hand combat?”

Now, he stopped being disappointed, if he ever was. He chuckled and started acting offended:

“I know my magic abilities are... out of this world, but I can assure you I have earned my fair share of experience in hand to hand combat.”

“But having experience doesn't mean you're good”, you intervened his arrogant praise with a sly smirk. Having seen a glimpse of emotional vulnerability in his eyes, you felt oddly calm around him. Your newly found confidence manifested itself in one sassy comment after another. “If I recall correctly, Valkyrie easily bested you.”

“Why don't you go ask Valkyrie for help then?” Loki asked boldly.

“Touché.”

Just like that, you both stepped into the boxing ring.

“I would assume I'd have to explain the basics to you first, now.”, Loki exclaimed whilst spreading his arms. “Everyone has their very own distinct style. Whereas Valkyrie” - he made sure to stress that name derogatorily - “likes to show off and tends to pride herself with... well, everything she possibly can, whereas I personally-”

“You prefer debating, silver-tongue. I get it.” you taunt him with a smirk. He didn't seem touched by your commentary. While you rolled your eyes, the god of mischief continued his speech.

“It's usually easier to complete the missions stealthily or to talk yourself up the ranks. Infiltrating the enemy, that's my speciality. You shouldn't underestimate the power of subtlety.”

You knew he was good, but you couldn't help yourself but to keep teasing him. To see him mildly annoyed filled you with joy, letting him taste his own medicine, although you felt as if you started to understand, why he made the comments he made.

“Is that because you can't-”

Loki requited your comment so quick, you hadn't the opportunity to finish it. The next thing you knew was how your back hit the floor and you saw Loki towering over you.

“First lesson: You shouldn't aggravate your opponent unnecessarily, you might end up with a... disadvantage.” He emphasized the last word with his raspy voice, not imaginable what he was alluding to.

With a slightly hurt pride you stood up again. “You're quick.” you stated the obvious. Acting like you would know more than you did, you put your fists up and in front of your face the way you saw it in movies often. The adrenaline rushed through your veins, you could feel it, and you glared at the god in front of you.

With a quick jab, you aimed for his stomach and were sure to hit, but with a swift step he avoided your punch altogether. Astounded by his quick movement, you weren't able to retrieve your arm quick enough to protect yourself from his counter.

He grabbed your arm and stepped a foot behind your leg. In one fluid motion your legs were kicked up and you were sent flying with an involuntarily backflip. Lucky for you, your forearms were at least quick enough to protect your face.

“Oh dear, you really don't know anything about fighting, do you?”

With an exasperated groan you pushed yourself up, back on your feet. This was way more exhausting than you thought it'd be. With heavy breaths you assessed the situation for the first time.

Loki was way quicker than you, a surprise attack wouldn't work. A feint attack? He'd probably still be quick enough to evade, if not counter. But what if...

“Al...right” you panted demotivated. “I...” and you fell forward and followed through with your plan.

Loki's reflexes forced him to catch you. Predictable. You slithered your arms around his neck, adjusted your position and swung your legs around his waist. Due to the momentum of your legs you were able to make the god stumble, but it wasn't enough to make him fall yet.

In your books, that was a win. Not only have you been able to make contact at will, you have successfully tricked the god of trickery.

Who would've imagined that thinking before doing something would ever turn out to be so efficient?

Of course he was quick to push you off and have you land on the floor again, but that wasn't enough to negate the sense of achievement that was flooding your mind.

You didn't even try to hide the grin.

“I have tricked you” you joyfully retold the event, small giggles escaping your lips.

“I'm still standing” he nonchalantly stated. While he wasn't wrong, you felt like you made progress.

“But I made you stumble.”

After a few more rounds of your attacks and some sparse tries to defend yourself, you didn't have any more energy to focus on fight training. It must have been midnight already, two hours filled with training have passed. Your zip-up hoodie was thrown in a corner, discarded a while ago as you felt like you were sweating too much, and you had revealed the plain t-shirt you wore underneath.

“Alright, my dear, I think this is the time to finalize the conditions of our little deal.” Loki tried to conceal his heavy breathing and knelt down next to you, not bothering helping you up. Reluctantly you sat up and told him to go on.

“Since you want to learn how to fight properly, we'll have to train more often, however I am not going to do so without... compensation.”

This simple sentence rang alarm bells in your head, especially since you are already planning on baking a cake which you intended to be enough. There was no way he had forgotten it already.

“You can't have forgotten it already.” You shot him a quick glance as he followed up with something that lead you to believe he was planning something.

“Lemon cake, I didn't forget, but I'm afraid that won't be enough for all lessons, darling. Let's just say... you owe me. Plus, today I was just assessing your skills. I have yet to show you a few exercises to train for yourself.”

Scrunching your nose at his not very concise proposal, you decided to bluff an told him you were just going to ask someone else to teach you, if he was being serious, but to no avail Loki saw right through it. He proclaimed “If I were you, I wouldn't do that. I figured you would prefer me to keep these interactions a secret, wouldn't you?”

The god of mischief clearly had the upper hand in this negotiations.

Albeit you were visibly displeased by his threat to tell everyone you couldn't fight, you gave him your final reply with a scoff.

“Well, I don't really have much of a choice now, do I?”

There it was. That mischievous twinkle you saw in his eyes earlier, paired with a smirk. You don't know how, but you couldn't stay mad at him. You just couldn't.

You shook your head and smirked again. “It almost feels like I just sold my soul.”

Surprising to you, Loki tried to calm you down. Did he think you were actually afraid of losing your soul to him?

“Don't worry, my dear, even if it would be possible to separate one's body from one's soul, I would never intend to steal yours. Quite frankly, I wouldn't even know, what to do with it!”

He even put his hands up in front of him to show you, he wasn't trying to 'grab your soul' or something. It looked rather adorable and made you laugh, which left Loki staring at you confused.

You were contemplating whether you should explain it to him in full, but ultimately decided against it, it would take too long. Instead, you said the next best thing. “I was kidding, Loki!”

After some more laughing you asked him what has been on your mind since you sealed the deal.

“So, when will we meet again?”

The raven haired god turned to you and thought about it for a second while looking at you. You looked in his eyes for longer than you should have, but the answer he gave you with a smirk was quick to grab your attention.

“Tomorrow, same time. If you want to see me only at the gym, that is.”

You copied his smirk with a quick glance at lips.

“You'll see.”

[warrior-angel]

Till Death Do us Apart

Author: @warrior-angel

Word Count: 6155

Summary: when you and your brother both get infected by the flare you go down an emotional rollercoaster only for it to end totally diffrent than you had originaly planned it al to go.

Warnings: major character death, blood, angst,

Note: this was realy hard to write for me but i'm very proud of it so i hope you guys like it

This is a one shot writen for Tomuary by @writingsbychlo

you knew you were a walking time bomb and that you probably didn't have long anymore every day could be your last you just hoped you would make it long enough to see your friend being saved.

The flare, a stuppid virus that made you go completely insane, you've kept your sanity in all those years in the Maze and now that you were finally free you wouldn't live to see the beauty of it. Here you were leaning on the table listing to Thomas and Gally picking a fight over what to do next you had to save Minho from WICKED but every idea was turned down it being to risky and now that there was a real option to extualy get the job done Thomas was refusing to do it and you were just trying to keep your mind from not completely losing it over this endless ‘i don't trust you even though it could save our lives thing’ you loved Thomas that's the hole reason you were together but sometimes he could be so stubborn and right now, right now he was being a pain in the ass because the plan Gally had to save Minho included Teresa “No there's gotta be another way” Thomas kept saying while everybody disagreed knowing we didn't have much choice or resources to do anything else “like what? you’ve seen the building she’s our only way in'' Gally tells him again but he still doesn't listen. “If we do get in you think she’s going to help us?” Thomas ask him and Gally shakes his head “I don't Plan on asking for her permission” i crack a little smile knowing nobody at the table really liked teresa in the first place and Brenda only conformers that when she's speaking up “Am i missing something here this is the same girl that betrayed us correct? same Dick”

Thomas starts to nervously pace around and nobody understands his problem. You loved Teresa like a sister but after her betrayal a lot changed even for you “what's going on?” Brenda asks him and you look over at Newt you knew your brother and you knew that look on his face because you've had it yourself and you've seen it on him before he was angry and he was going to lose it any second now “your afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt?” Newt snaps and all eyes go to him “this has obviously never been just about rescuing Minho is it''

Thomas looks taking back by his sudden outburst and so does everybody else but i couldn't disagree “he’s got a point Tommy” you tell him and the brown haired boy looks up at you even more shocked that your agreeing with Newt “what are you talking about” but before you can do or say anything Newt stands up straight in front of him “Teresa, she's the only reason Minho is even missing in the first place and now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what you don’t want to because of her? because deep down inside you care more about her than for y/n don't you, just admit it”

Thomas turns his gaze over to you over Newt his shoulder and you know Your brother hit an emotional string there. from day one you were Teresa her competition and you knew how thomas felt about her but he chose you over her and that meant the world to you but this part of you that was Sick and infected was telling you that the minute you would be gone he would run to Teresa “Newt i” Thomas starts but All Newt does is move closer pushing Thomas against the wall “Don’t lie to me!”

“Newt calm down!” You yell getting closer but your brother doesn't move “Don’t lie to me” he tells Thomas again “Newt Get the off of him!” You say using every ounce of strength to pull him away from Thomas. As soon as he backs away he looks a bit shocked at his own actions looking between you and your friends mumbling a quick apology before turning towards Thomas and apologizing again. the minute he steps to the side wanting to walk away, wanting to leave the room you notice him grabbing onto his arm and you immediately fear the worst cause you've had the same outbursts and the same burning sensation in your arm right after you had an outburst like that. “y/n, i'' Thomas says towards you and you shake your head not wanting to talk about it “it’s fine, he just need to cool down”

“That's not what i mean” and you nod “i know”

you stand on your toe’s giving him a quick kiss on his cheek and giving him a reassuring smile “i’ll go check on Newt i’m probably the only one he’ll talk to you guys find a way to get Minho back”

Opening the door to the roof you can see Newt sitting on the edge of the building and you take a few steps closer trying to calm yourself down already knowing the truth about what just happened what had caused his outburst but still a part of you hoped it was just the tension and the time spend so close togheter that caused it instead of a stupid virus. Looking over his shoulder newt spots you standing behind him and you take a few steps closer “sorry bout that back there” he tells you but you don't say anything you just sit down beside him and look at his arm and seeing the twitching in his fingers and it looks all too familiar to you “Why didn't you tell me?” you ask him and he looks over at you but you just look at his arm and he Rolls up his sleeve Revealing multiple black and purple veins on his lower arm “you could’ve told me” you tell him but you knew your brother, you were the same you didnt wanna spend your last few weeks or even days saying goodbye to the people you loved

“I didn't think it would make any difference” he was right knowing it didn't change a thing it only made saying goodbye so much harder because you didn't know when you had to do it “All i know is that WICKED must off put us in that Maze for a reason, maybe it was literally just so they could tell the difference between the immunes like you and people like me” that only made it hurt more because he didn't know, he didn't know you were not Immune “people like us” you tell him and he looks confused. taking a deep breath you lift your leg up a little and move away to Fabric covering your ankle to show Newt the bite mark and torn skin that was covered in black and purple veins “it was that Crank that Fry shot when we were in the tunnel right before Brenda and Jorge saved us, his aim was good only a little bit to late” you explain

it stays silent between the two of you for a minute letting it sink it that you were going to lose each other to lose everybody you loved “Thomas?” He asks and you shake your head “he doesn't know, and he cant i'm not spending my last days saying goodby to him he needs to focus on Saving Minho”

“So what's your plan? You just wanna run off, leave us all behind and die on your own?” Newt asks in a harsh tone “No, i’m sticking to the plan and that's saving Minho”

“What you gonna do after that” and you swallow the lump in your throat “There won't be an after cause i’m not planning on surviving it and that's exactly why he doesn't know”

“who doesn't know?” a familiar voice says behind the two of you you both look back to see The brown haired boy and you turn your gaze to Newt pleading for him to stay quiet and he nods looking back to this arm “i guess i can't hide this anymore'' he tells Thomas rolling his sleeve up again “Newt we can still fix this” thomas tells him and you look between both boys being trapped in the triangle of losing not only yourself but also your brother and the boy you love

That night you all decide to go through with the plan, get Teresa, make her take out the chips in your necks and break into WICKED to get out Minho and that's exactly how things went. having Teresa back was weird to say the least nobody trusted her but right now she was sitting behind you with a small knife against your neck to cut out the chip you didn't really have a choice “try to relax this is going to sting” she tells you and shrug it off wanting to get it over with “just do it”

a sharp pinch follows within a few second you grab the chair tightly out of reflex and you put your feet flat on the Floor trying not to move but moving your leg past the Chair the zipper on your Jeans opens showing her the black veins beneath it “your leg” she says and you pull back leaning down the close the zipper and pull the fabric over your ankle down “What happened?” She asks but you ignore her completely

“are you done” you tell her harshly looking straight up at her “you two okay?” Thomas asks from across the room and you nod “yeah, where fine” you tell him grabbing a small piece of gauze and holding it to your neck “does he-” but you cut her off talking a little softer making sure nobody hears “No, he doesn't and he won't cause your going to keep your mouth shut and not talk to anybody about it you ruined enough as it is”

“if you come back to the lab with me i could help you give you a-”

“just drop it alright!” you yell getting everybody's attention “Whats going on here?” Gally asks and you shake your head “Nothing, there's absolutely nothing” you tell him walking of Looking over at your brother And then to the brown haired boy that is already on his feet and coming towards you and taking you away from Teresa and away from the others for a second “hey, whats going on with you?” he asks and you shake your head “i’m just one edge i just really want this to work” and the boy nods understanding and giving a quick peck on your lips cupping your cheeks “well get Minho back and we'll all be safe i promise” you look over at your brother on the other side of the Room and Thomas seems to understand “We’ll save Newt well get the cure and he’ll be fine”

“Promise me that after saving Minho you’ll try to save Newt no matter what” and he nods “where is this coming from?” He asks but you just look at him “Promise me Thomas”

“I Will, i promise i Will try to save Newt no matter what” you give Him a weak smile knowing that your brother might survive this all and that made you feel good you where going to save your friends, your family even though you know there was only enough to save one of you two and you knew it wasn't going to be you “You know i love you right?” He tells him and he leans down a little kissing you with more passion than before “i love you too, until Death do us apart” it was a small thing you two said in the glade and in the scorch when something happened but right now it only made you sad cause the small Joke that first meant you loved on another and would stick together would soon turn into reality and probably Faster than he hoped.

The plan worked, you got into WICKED, you saved Minho and you got out of the building with only minor issues but the adrenaline and the fast work took its toll on Newt, His body was shutting down and it was getting harder for yourself to keep things hidden from Thomas or anybody else for that matter.“They were supposed to blow up WICKED not the whole damn city!” Gally says as the walls explode and cars full of angry people coming rushing into the city. pushing us to the side we all sit down against a wall in an alley trying to get away from the explosions and Thomas crawls to the side and you pull his arm “where are you going” you ask him but he is quickly sitting back next to you as he sees WICKED’s cars rushing in “shit”

“what are they waiting for?” Minho asks “Like i have a clue” you answer and like it was planned a loud explosion goes off again and gunfire starts to blast out on the street “we gotta go!” Gally calls out and we sneak into an old dinner to stay sheltered from it all. Sitting in the back of the restaurant you sit against Thomas his chest and his hand goes around your waist as both of you breath heavily for the first time sitting still and letting everything that happened sink in looking between the gunfire outside and Gally,Newt and Minho you know things aren't looking very good for the five of you. Thomas loosens the hand on your waist and grabs the walkie from his pocket “brenda, are you there” and almost immediately she answers “Thomas, i’m here” you grab the walkie from his hands looking around seeing your brother getting worse the fire and fight going on outside and Thomas behind you before answering her “Bren, there's too much going on and i don't think we're going to make it”

“y/n? what are you talking about” she says clearly holding back tears making it harder for yourself to hold it back and you hand to Walkie back to Thomas while swallowing the lump in your throat “you should take the others and get everybody out while you still can” and i doesn't take long for Brenda her protest to come through

“No” and tears roll down your cheeks knowing how hard it is for them so putting your hand over Thomas you hold down the buttons “brenda, you need to go” you tell her hoping she will listen to you “i’m not leaving you two okay so forget it”

“Even though you should,” Thomas tells her and it stays silent for a while you sit up a little with a few tears in your eyes and you grab onto Thomas's hand tighter than before. part of you hoped it was going to be over cause it meant you never had to tell him the truth but the other part wanted him to survive and live his life at the fullest “we started this together might as well end it that way” you tell him and he smiles “you sound like your brother” and you laugh a little looking over at him “till death do us apart right” Thomas Jokes and you nod turning our head far enough to kiss him

“Thomas! y/n! don't worry i’m coming for you” and both Thomas and you look at each other and you act quick taking the walkie out of his hands “what are you talking about?”

“our rides here, look for us near the tunnels”

After walking out of the building Gally takes the lead cause he knew the place the best and he led you all towards the tunnels. At the end of the street a loud blow is heard and a car blows up in front of you all making you fall over and you're once again stuck hiding behind a wall “were almost here” Gally says staking low trying to look for a way through the fight without much trouble but a bright flash of light above you all making you look up seeing the berg flying overhead heading towards the tunnels “There here” you say in a whisper looking at Thomas having hope for your brother once again knowing Brenda had the cure to save him

“go without me, just go” Newt spills and you all look at him, veins starting to crawl up his neck and towards his face and black blood coming from his mouth

and you knew he wasn't going to last long anymore “Minho, you gotta run ahead grab the serum and get back as soon as you can” you tell him and he looks at you not agreeing with it but Thomas nods “Minho, go”

“there right, i’ll cover” Gally tells him and i nod once silently thinking him

“y/n, bring one for y/n” Newt says and you shut him up “what is he talking about?” Thomas asks and you shake your head “Nothing I'm fine it’s just the infection getting to his head” you tell him turning to Minho “You need to go Now!

“just hang on, you hear me,” Minho tells Newt and with those words he runs off getting the serum to save your brother. Newt his head turns to the side and you can see he's fading away but you grab onto him shaking him trying to get him to focus on you and trying to stay awake “Newt! stay with me do you hear me, i need you to stay focused”

“We've gotta get you up” Thomas says, grabbing onto Newt his arm but he protests reaching for his necklace and ripping it from his neck “come on Newt we've gotta go!” Thomas tells him again and tears run down your eyes as Newt holds out the necklace towards Thomas you knew it was the letter he wrote, you were there with him

“Newt, your gonna make it”. I tell him but he keeps his hand out for Thomas

“Just take it!” he yells breathing heavily and Thomas takes the necklace from him holding his hand tight “please, Tommy please” as the words pass by his lips your body starts shutting down and you start coughing letting your body drop next to Newts “y/n!” Thomas yells and you nod “i’m okay, it's just smoke” you lie and you look towards Newt and you can see in his eyes that he knows you're not far behind him “tell him, you need to tell him” Newt says and you shake your head “you need to keep your mouth shut, the plan is going the way it should” you tell him before turning to look at Thomas “tell me what?” Thomas asks and you shake your head holding onto your sanity and pushing yourself up again “The plan about saving Minho it's working now we've gotta save Newt your helping or not?”

“She’s Sick” Newt spits and Thomas looks at you “i’m fine just tired” And Thomas nods he knew you hadn't been sleeping much being concerned about newt but the truth was you didnt wanna risk him seeing the Infection in your leg you had enough time to sleep when this was over. “We need to get out of here” you tell him and Thomas nods, helping you lift up Newt and Making your way closer to the tunnels.

after a few blocks of walking your knees give up on you and you drop to the ground Newts body collapsing onto Thomas and dropping to the ground before you “Y/n?” Thomas ask and you look up at him “I’m Sorry Thomas” you tell him knowing your plan was not working you weren't going to make it and your idea to walk away the minute your brother was save wasn't going to work, if you were shutting down this fast then Newt was even worse knowing that the body in front of you wasn't your Brother anymore but the Infection that caught up with him and took over his brain.

suddenly the street goes quiet and Teresa her voice comes through “thomas? can you hear me, i need you to listen to me i know you have no reason to trust me but i need you to come back, Thomas you can save Newt you can save y/n, there's still time for the Both them” you start coughing and looking at your hand you see black blood and you lift your head up al little to look at thomas you give him a silent apologie again but he just looks at the blood on your lips “there’s a reason brenda isn't sick anymore, it's your blood do you understand she isn't sick cause you cured her she doesn't have to be the only one. the only thing you have to do is come back and all of this will finally be over, please just come back to me” he looks at you and with tears in your eyes you nod “you need to go ” you tell him and he shakes his head ignoring it only wanting answers “why didn't you tell me?” He asks and you swallow the lump in your throat this was the exact reason you didn't tell him

“i couldn't, i didnt wanna say goodbye not to you”

“There's still time Minho is getting the serum” and you shake your head “That’s not the plan’ you tell him throwing it all out “Newt was supposed to make it and i was going to stay behind, going down saving you guys”. You tell him and he has tears in his eyes “You were just going get yourself killed? After everything we’ve been through”

“It’s better than letting this Stuppid Virus control me, i’m not becoming a Crank Thomas, i love you i do but i would much rather get shot out here than survive only to risk hurting the others or you” but he shakes his head not accepting it you betrayed his trust which made you no better than WICKED the only difference was that your intentions were truly only to save the people you loved “we’ll get the serum and everything Will be fine” he tells you but before you can say anything or protest a loud scream comes from behind you and you turn your head to see Newt showing getting up onto his feet, surprised he’s still there “Newt?” you both ask insinc and he slowly turns revealing him fully cranked out eyes gone black and he lashes out towards Thomas attacking him. Thomas steps aside letting Newt drop to his knees and he seems to have a second of his humanity coming through “Tommy! kill me!” he yells, turning to look at Thomas but your own mind keeps getting hazly wanting to shut down so you only see fragments of the fight in front of you. the minute you look backup holding onto your sanity you see Newt holding a knife close to thomas his chest and your own rage takes over pushing yourself onto your feet and pushing your brother off of your boyfriend and holding him down “Newt, this isn't you! Get a hold on your sanity” you try hoping he has any left but he doesn't do anything but trying to get you off and to your side you see a Gun and you use your left foot to kick against it and it slides towards Thomas and he looks between the weapon and you holding down Newt “shoot! the bullet will kill us both” you tell him in a clear moment and she shakes his head

“Thomas, it's your own life, or ours!” you yell at him but Newt gets the upper hand throwing you off him and going for the knife again heading back towards Thomas and you make a decision, with tears in your eyes and the last bit sanity you crawl towards the gun and clock it standing on your feet and aiming the gun towards your brother “Newt!” you yell and he turns his attention towards you and in that small moment you see his eyes the ones you grew up with and the ones of the big brother you love so much and he nods telling you it's okay and with that you pull the trigger the bullet going into his chest and his body dropping to the ground. you look over at thomas and he sits there next to Newts body tears covering his cheeks and your own rolling down your face knowing you just killed the one person that you promise yourself you would save “i'm sorry thomas'' you tell him lifting up the gun an you close your eyes placing your Finger on the trigger but before you can pull it Thomas slams it out of your hands “No! I’m not losing both of you” you look him in his eyes and he has a pleading look “Minho is on his way just hold on okay” he tells you through sobs and you shake your head “i'm not going to make it till then i’m tired of fighting Thomas, i just want it to stop, make it stop” you tell him trying to hold onto your sanity, you reach in your pocket and take out the small necklace and you hand it to him. “Newt’s not to only one that wrote you a letter” and he grabs it holding onto your hand “i love you” you tell him and he smiles a little through the tears “i love you too” with your own tears you take a step back and let go of his hand “if that's true and you really love me, then you'll let me do this then you let me go” he looks shocked and shakes his head protesting but you dont listen to his words “you’re going to be okay” he tries to tell you but you give him a hard enough push to make him trip and you grab the gun up from the ground and drop to your knees next to Newt his body “i’ll see you soon” you tell him before before turning to look at Thomas one last time as he gets back onto his feet but your already lifting up the gun to your head “i’ll say hi to chuck for you”

“don’t do it Please y/n!” he asks through sobs “till death do us apart”

“Wait!” Looking to the side Brenda runs forwards with the small blue file in her hand and she looks to Newt on the ground and to you holding the gun to your head but it all gave Thomas enough time to run towards you getting a Grip on the gun“Thomas! I’m gonna kill you!” You yell at him letting the last of your humanity slip away and fighting the one person you thought you never wanted to hurt “Brenda!” Thomas yells and before you know it everything in front of your eyes turns black

WICKED had taken everything from him, they made it to the safe haven but it didn't seem to matter to him. Vince's speech was what hurt most , it reminded everybody of what they lost but it also reminded them that the people they cared about sacrificed their own lives to save them. “We've come a long way together, so many have sacrificed to make this place possible. your friends, your family. so here's to the ones that couldn't be here, here's to the friends we've lost, this place is for you it's for all of us” he turns his body to point at one of the large rocks in the middle of the place “this, this is for them, so in your one time in your own way, come make your peace, and welcome to the safe haven”

The night was spent talking about memories of the lost once and the plans for the future, the plans of what was coming next and what to do with their lives Now That they were free to do what they wanted but Thomas kept away from it sitting to the side. Minho said down next to him giving him a small smile and looking over the place “this is going to be a good home for us, they would of loved it” he tells him while reaching in the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the two necklaces and hands them back to thomas “you had this one you when you passed out, figured i'd keep them safe for you” an Thomas takes Boh of he necklaces from the boy hesitantly “thanks minho'' padding his shoulder he smiles before walking away leaving Thomas alone to read the letter from Newt, followed by the one you gave him.

Dear Thomas

it’s been one hell of a ride, i know i always complained about being trapped by WICKED so this might be weird coming from me but i miss the glade, i miss waking up to frypans crappy breakfasts or watching the sunset right before the doors closed, it all seems like so long ago doesn't it we were so innocent back then. But now here we are, we lost a lot of Friends in the fight to get you all to the safe haven so you guys better make the most of it or I'm coming to haunt you all.

i want you to know that i never kept this all from you cause i didn't love you, god i loved you even more after i found out it wasn't going to last but i couldn't bring myself to tell you i know that it's probably selfish but i didn't want to spend our last few weeks maybe even days saying goodbye like everyone did with Newt, i wish i could be with you forever but i guess we weren't meant to be. Our time together was exactly like paradise but i wouldn't wanna change, i remember when you can up in that box back in the Glade everybody though you were one hell of a trouble maker and to be honest you really were, breaking the rules running into the maze but i loved every second of it, it didn't matter to me how many times you broke the rules or what stuppid or risky idea you had i would off followed it all, i did follow it i followed you, through the Maze, through the scorch and now through the last City saving Minho and getting Newt to safety. That was my plan and i know you’ll hate it but it was simple get you all save and leave myself behind to die out in the field so nobody has to know what was really happening to me it Will be easier that way. i’m not afraid of dying, i’m afraid of

Losing myself to this stuppid virus that turned me into a walking time bomb. I want you to know I don't want to let you all go but I have no other choice cause waiting for this serum isn't an option for me and even if we get there in time it would only push back the inevitable. I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life to the fullest and make me proud and take care of the other keep Minho out of trouble and make sure gally doesnt start a fight with some shank in the safe haven. i hope that in a few years from now you’ll smile and say that it was worth it cause it has been worth it to me. Now pick yourself up and finish what you started and lead the people that are there with you like I know you can. I know you’ll do what's right you always have. take care and remember that i’ll love you

thank you for being my best friend and my first love

goodbye tommy

y/n

Opening your eyes you sit straight up feeling a burning pain in your ankle and lifting the fabric you see the Veins disappeared and the bite mark was almost completely healed. Panic rushes through your body not knowing where you are and looking around you only see wooden furniture and bottles of medicine on a table to the side, throwing your feet over the edge you stand up finding your balance and walking past the curtain that closed of the little shed you were in and you look out over the ocean turning to the side you see an entire village that reminds you of the glade, making you think that heaven wasn't as bad as you though it was going to be walking forwards into the place you pass by field that are growing food, people building shelter with wood and right in front of you the dark haired Runner comes walking closer and you look over at him surprised “Minho?” You ask him hesitant and he smiles up you only to see Gally, Frypan and Brenda walking closer to you beside him “hey there Greenie, you look better” Gally tells you and you stand there shocked and there eyes go to something behind and turning around your faces with the brown haired boy you love and he looks a bit sad but there this little light of Hope in his eyes as he steps closer grabbing onto you an hugging you tight.

“I-i’m alive'' you ask hesitantly while you sit on the side with Thomas and he nods “how long have I been out?” You ask him “A week the serum took its time but you made it through” he tells you and guilt hits you immediately, your plan your brother was the one that should have been sitting there not you, your brother, you killed your brother you shot Newt,you almost shot yourself. Panic washes over you and Thomas seems to notice and he grabs your hand pulling you out of it “hey, you made it” he tells you again and tears roll down your cheeks “i wasn't supposed to”

“yeah, i know i read your letter” and you look up at him “Thomas”

“I did as you told me to, i picked myself up and i’m gonna keep going forwards, were gonna keep going forward together”

“After everything if done, you still want me?” And the boy nods lifting his hand an cupping your cheeks “i hate the plan you made to just go of and die on your own and i’m going to be angry about it for a while but right now your still alive and i’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon so you're stuck with me”

“Newt..” you say in a whisper “Newt would want you to live a happy live and not think about what happened because you can't change it” you know he’s right but it was going to take time to mourn the loss of your brother this wasn't the plan you made instead of silently slipping away after you saved your friends and your brother you are the one that got saved “you were infected you didn't think straight” he tells you

“I knew what was doing when i pulled the trigger, i knew in that moment i was shooting My own brother, the look in his eyes told me it was him in that last minute it told me it was okay” you tell him holding down the Tear's that threaten to slip again

“but i also know your right he wouldn't want me to give up so i wont, i Will wait for you to forgive me cause i wanna be with you cause your all if got left” you tell Thomas and he smiles reaching in his pocket and pulling something out of it and he hands it to you, taking it from him it reveals a little ring and you look up at him “after we got here and i saw you past out i started making it, i knew when i saw you laying right there that i never wanted to see you like that again that i wanted to be with you forever, so if you really mean that you wanna be with me than you'll say yes” you look at him shocked not knowing what to do or what to say “say yes to being with me forever, say yes to being my best friend, to being my girl, to being my wife, marry me Y/n” you nod not having the words to say it outloud and Thomas smiles sliping the ring on your Finger and holding onto your Hand and leaning forward to catch your lips with his before looking back up at you “Till death do us apart”

[one-true-houselight]

Five Times Stan Wondered How Ford Would Feel, and One Time He Didn't Have To

1982

It was weird, being at his own funeral. Stan had certainly thought about faking his own death before, but he'd never had the time, or the ability. It's not often you get a chance to take over your identical twin's life as a cover story. 

It was the kind of story he would have told Ford to make him laugh when they were kids. The ultimate twin swap. The thought put a lump in his throat as he stared out at the small number of guests. An uncharitable part of him noted that Ford would probably have had more mourners.

A different, desperately scared and guilty part, wondered how Ford would feel if he was here, at his brother's actual funeral. Would he be sad? Would he remember the good times, or would he just see a broken machine, a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts?

Would he even come?

Stan breathed, trying to convince himself he was simply pursuing this train of thought so he could impersonate Ford more effectively. He hoped his performance was more effective than that effort. 

He sat on a bench and reflexively massaged the sides of his hands, where he'd made it look like extra fingers had been removed. To his surprise, Shermie came over and sat next to him. "You doin' ok, Stanford?"

"Yeah," Stan replied, hoping his illusion would hold. "As ok as I can be, I guess."

Shermie put a hand on his shoulder, and Stan kept himself from flinching. People hadn't put their hands on him for much beyond violence in...a while. "I know you and Stanley hadn't seen each other in a while, and it ending like this is probably difficult for you."

Stan shrugged, and thought once again; how would Ford feel right now, if the last time he'd seen Stan had been when he closed the curtain on him all those years ago, and not a brother desperately reaching for him as he disappeared through a swirling portal?

He figured it was wishful thinking when he replied, "I think I was done with anger, at this point. I just wish I had told him how I felt sooner."

1992

Stan was rummaging through the closet when an object fell from between some coats and landed at his feet. He picked it up to find it was a worn, six fingered glove. His first instinct was to drop it, as if it had burned him, but he didn't. He just stared at it for a while, thoughts wandering to the man who once wore it.

He kept holding it as he went back to work, (Stan was never one to stand still for too long), cleaning the gift shop, adjusting an attraction, locking up the earnings, entering the code on the vending machine. As he worked, he wondered what Ford would say if he was here right now. Probably something about scientific integrity, he thought with a snort. '

He wondered if he'd appreciate how he finally figured out a way to make money, if he'd laugh at the times Stan had had to punch something supernatural. It was certainly in character: Ford being the one ready to research and record phenomena, while Stan was the one coming in to punch it, or kick it, or sic a knife-wielding possum on it. They had made a good team. Maybe they still would, if-

No. Thinking like that didn't help, it wouldn't bring him back. To be fair, he didn't know if this would work, as he surveyed the broken portal looming from the darkness. But he had to try. He had to. 

He hoped Ford would be proud of him.

1999

Stan sat straight up in Shermie's kids' living room, fingers tapping wildly. When he'd gotten the call, he had run to the PA to close the gift shop immediately so he could pack. And now, after breaking more traffic laws in a day then he had thought possible, he was here, and he was about to meet-

"Stanford, meet Mason and Mabel." His niece and nephew walked in, each holding a baby. His breath caught in his throat. He had known they were twins, of course, he wasn't an idiot, but now, seeing these two bundles with the same face poking out over blankets, the fact hit him like a train.

"Looks like twins-" run in the family, but he couldn't say that. Shermie had agreed (reluctantly) to not mention Stanley to his family, given the tragic circumstances, so the comment would have been nonsensical to them. So he just smiled at his new great niece and nephew.

"They sure do, Stan. Want to hold them?" Stan's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. The babies were handed to him, one in each arm, and he looked down at them, tears in his eyes. Mabel's eyes locked onto his gold chain and she batted at it, entranced at the light bouncing off of it. Mason had a large birthmark on his head, like a constellation, and seemed fascinated by the tassel on Stan's hat. 

"Hey there. I'm your Great Uncle Stan," he whispered, his words sliding together a little from emotion. 

Their mom chuckled. "Sounded like you said 'Grunkle Stan'. It's usually the kids who give you the nickname."

Stan laughed, startling the babies a little. "You know what, I think I like Grunkle Stan better. 'Great Uncle' makes me feel old."

"Don't tell that to Dad," joked his nephew before standing. "I'll go make some lunch."

Stan made to stand up, but was pushed back into his seat. "You stay with the kids, it's fine."

Stan nodded and looked to the twins' mom, who had fallen into a chair across from him. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged. "Twins are hard, but they're sleeping better than I expected. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were helping each other sleep."

Stan laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised, these two look smart." Mabel looked up at him and blew a raspberry. Mason sat up, then immediately fell forward into Stan's chest. He looked up and smiled, and Stan absentmindedly tapped his forehead. "Quite a birthmark he's got."

"Yeah. Shermie joked that we should call him 'Dipper'. He said it was like calling you Sixer-" She stopped suddenly, blushing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no," said Stan quickly, his hands flitting to the scars on his hands. "I didn't mind that name. It certainly wasn't the worst thing I was called." It flowed easily, saying I. He had been Stanford for 17 years now, after all. 

The conversation moved on, the twins crawling over him as he chatted and laughed with their mother. But his thoughts were elsewhere, pushed to a familiar place by that nickname. He didn't know how Ford felt about having his own kids, but he knew he would have loved to be here, to see these kids. Maybe he could give better advice about Mason. 

Did he and Ford ever comfort each other, before they even knew what those words meant? Stan couldn't remember a time that he wasn't aware of Ford, a time before that night when they weren't by each other's sides. How would Ford react to see another set of Pines twins? As he looked down, he wished they never lost each other the way he and Ford had lost each other. It was the best blessing he could think to give them. 

July 2012

Stan sat in his chair, stunned. That morning, he had followed the sound of excited kids shouting to find that someone had found Ford's old room As he'd walked in, hoping they wouldn't ask him too many questions, he had glanced over and seen them sitting there, as if Ford had left them there minutes before. He had always had a bad habit about his glasses. 

With a look at the kids, who were distracted, he grabbed the glasses and shoved them in a pocket, covering his reeling mind with announcing a competition. He made it through the day, not internalizing much. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure there had been something going on with Dipper and Mabel, but he just hadn't been present enough to figure out what. It seems like they were figuring out whatever it was, so he was just left sitting in the dark, staring at a pair of glasses.

He was so close. Was Ford even alive? He had to be. He had been working on this for thirty years, he had to believe that Ford was out there. What was Ford doing right now? Had he found some nerd school? Stan smiled at that, and tried not to imagine the many, many less attractive options. 

He heard footsteps upstairs, and he contemplated what Ford would have done that day, with the kids. Maybe he would have had a reasoned discussion with the kids, about boundaries and choices. Or maybe he would have seen his own resentment reflected in those kids' eyes, and…

He had spent thirty years as Stanford Pines, and had slowly weaned himself off of trying to act as he thought Ford would. But even if he hadn't, he would have started now. Because if he couldn't stop the curse with him and Ford, he would not pass it down to Dipper and Mabel. He had to believe that siblings were not doomed to fail, he had to believe that he could help these kids out from a shadow they didn't know they were under. 

And even though he didn't believe it, he hoped he could get Ford and him out too, someday. He hoped Ford would want to come. 

August 2012

Ford was here.

Ford was here.

Thirty years of work, and Ford was in the next room, bemoaning what Stan had done to the shack. 

Figures.

"You know, Ford, standing around yelling at the Mystery Shack isn't gonna change anything," he called out. Ford walked into the room, eyebrows furrowed. 

"I still don't understand why you had to take my identity," said Ford. "Wouldn't it have been easier to fake my death?"

I didn't know if it would have been fake He shrugged and replied, "Do you know how many crimes I've committed? It was better that way."

"I can imagine," muttered Ford, with more venom than Stan liked, but no more than he expected. 

"Hey, you know a lot of crimes were to get you back."

Ford snorted at that, but fell quiet for a moment, staring at his own hands. Finally, without looking up, he asked, "How'd you fake the hands, Stanley?"

"Said I cut 'em off." He held up his hands to show the faded scars, and Ford's eyes widened slightly.

"You gave yourself scars?"

"Yeah. I've got enough of them." Stan did not mention that, as much as these scars had hurt, they had paled in comparison to how he had felt watching Ford get pulled away from him. 

Ford stared, almost transfixed, at Stan's hands before abruptly standing up. "I should keep working," he muttered and swept off. 

Stan crossed his arms and muttered, "Man, I thought I had been too grumpy as you." He laid back and sighed. Thirty years he had sat and wondered about how Ford would feel, how he'd react, what he was missing. And here they were, together again, and Stan still didn't know how the man felt. Not really. Yes, the punch had been a good clue as to some of it, but...He didn't know what had happened to Ford out there. He didn't know how it felt to be back. Was he disoriented? Scared? Excited? Overwhelmed? 

Damn it, why wouldn't Ford let him help? How could he not see that Stan still cared about him? How much he missed him?

Maybe because you haven't told him, a voice said. Yeah, well, turn about's fair play, Stanford…

He shook his head. He had 'til the end of summer. He could still fix things. If he could fix an interdimensional portal, he could fix his relationship with his brother, his twin, his best friend…

Right?

September 2012

Stan sat on the porch of the Mystery Shack, watching the sun go down. Ford walked out and sat down next to him. "How are you doing, Stanley?"

"I'm fine. Mind feels good. You?"

"I'm...I'm good." Ford took a breath. "I'm sorry, Stanley." 

Stan looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Didn't we do this already?"

"Not really. I may have apologized for certain events, but...I never told you that I'm grateful, not really. After everything you've lived through, all the things I caused, you gave your life over to bringing me back. You sacrificed your mind to save me, to save the world. And I never, I could never acknowledge before now how good a person you really are."

"You really don't need to do this, Ford, I know how cool I am-"

"No, you don't. Stanley, you think that you have to act like this to make up for something. I let you think you needed to fight for redemption after that science fair, and you've been fighting your whole life, never understanding that you are enough. I just want you to know that people see you, that they know you're a good person. The kids, Soos...me. You deserve to know how I feel." There was a pause as Stan gathered his thoughts, but then he started laughing. Ford furrowed his brows. "I'm not joking, Stanley. You are worthy of love, and-"

"No, no," said Stan, putting a hand on Ford's shoulder. "I...you're right, I don't have the best self esteem, but that's not it. I've spent 30 years wondering how you'd feel, what you'd do. And now, now I finally know." A single tear streaked down his face. "Thank you. I really think I needed to hear that."

Ford pulled him into a hug. "I only wish I could have told you sooner." At that, they both started crying in earnest, and Stan knew he finally knew how his twin felt. 

Like him, he felt love.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N: 

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Haunted | [Darth Maul x Fem!Reader x Savage Opress]

Notes: 

Lol I said only 1k per request but well… I got too invested xD

Haha, it happened again xD I hope this is somehow what you expected, Anon. Thank you for your request!

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars

Warnings: Angst, Death, Alcohol Use, Mention of Rape, Slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Some men follow Y/N after she got drunk at a bar. She’s not capable of protecting herself but thankfully she has two knights with red lightsabers who take care of her pursuers..

Word Count: 2′262

Taglist: @princessayveke​

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

This is loosely based off my  Cold Skins and Warm Hearts  oneshot!

They hadn't seen each other for a long time. 

Well, it was understandable, the brothers were at one end of the galaxy, causing havoc for the Republic, while she was laying low somewhere on Corellia. 

But although all three of them were busy, they thought of each other from time to time. The brothers more often than her though. 

They could not forget their last encounter, the feelings still too prominent. They needed an answer. 

What feelings did the woman have for them? Were they indeed just platonic? 

So it was no wonder that they actively searched for her. 

And albeit she was trying to lay low, they found her rather easily because of her force presence. Both of the Zabrak could not forget its radiating pull after all. 

But when the brothers found her, they also encountered annoying pests. 

Obviously, they would get rid of them immediately. 

-

Y/N did not have the energy for any trouble today. 

She had been feeling unsafe for a week now, but she wrote it off as her being paranoid after all the things she had gone through. 

It wasn't a mystery she knew she had some trauma after having fought for the Jedi for so long. Her nightmares were proof of that. 

Usually, she wouldn't have tried to find comfort at the bottom of a bottle, but after feeling so stressed out, the fiery heat of Corellian Whiskey felt satisfying in her throat. 

She did drink more than she should have, though. 

But there was no one to tell her to stop, she was her own master now, and she enjoyed it. 

But when she stumbled home, her hand on her lightsaber, while her head spun, she did not expect to be followed. 

She didn't notice at first, her attention muddled from all the alcohol. But after somebody walked by, and rudely bumped into her, Y/N felt a little less smashed, and therefore she noticed the eyes on her that followed her body's every move. An uncomfortable feeling rose in her stomach, and she turned her head slightly to look if somebody was pursuing her, but she was too intoxicated to see clearly. 

The streets in her district were all dimly lit, and only the cantinas and occasional dancer bars had flickering neon lights, which made it hardly possible to see the faces of the few people who were still awake at this hour. 

But she could feel that someone was tailing her. 

Her hand automatically reached for her lightsaber, but there was nothing at her hip. 

Fuck, I didn't take it with me! 

She cursed inwardly and quickened her pace. 

The knowledge of being watched sobered her up enough to remember that she didn't have that many options anymore when it came to a fight. The force wasn't with her any longer. 

Y/N hadn't been able to use it for a few weeks now, that's why she had decided to move away from the Outer Rims where the chance of getting into a fight was much higher. 

But maybe she had made the wrong choice with Corellia. 

The woman knew that she couldn't possibly hold her guard against several attackers while she was drunk. Hence, she could only flee. 

As soon as she turned around a corner, she began to run. 

Genuine fear trickled through her veins, and the former Jedi felt nauseous. 

If she got caught... 

She had a good idea of what could happen and desperately wished that it wouldn't come that far. 

Her breath quickened, she knew she was close to a panic attack, and she dreaded it. 

Y/N saw the familiar green glow of the bar one block away from her small run-down apartment, and she breathed out in relief, only to catch her foot in a pothole and crash face down onto the pavement. 

Her whole world spun, and she knew she was only a few seconds away from throwing up when she heard footsteps approach the alley she had just turned into. 

Fuck, here we go. 

She struggled to get on her knees when a gloved hand suddenly materialized before her, and a deep soothing voice said: 

"Do you need help?" 

She tilted her head upwards and could make out a tall figure with horns. 

"Sa-Savage?" 

Her voice was weak, and before she could even think about why the Zabrak was here, she wheezed and crumbled, her adrenaline rush and fear too overbearing that she fell unconscious.

-

Maul and Savage hadn't expected to see the woman, who had entranced them both, in such a miserable state. 

They had been following her to the bar, trying to come up with a plausible reason why they suddenly showed up, their pride too big to actually just tell the true reason. 

Savage just wanted to walk right in there and say hi, but his older brother wanted to follow the woman some more from the shadows. 

Something was different about her, and they would find out what it was. 

So they waited, waited for a very long time. 

"She seems to be quite a drinker", commented Savage, surprised about the revelation. 

Both of them wouldn't have expected that. 

Y/N L/N didn't seem like a big fan of alcohol. To tell the truth, if they remembered correctly, she had rejected the wine when they had met for the third time. 

So it seemed rather weird for the former Jedi to suddenly go and visit a bar to drink. 

But neither of them knew what had happened to the woman in the last few months, so they couldn't judge if something was wrong with her. 

They loitered around in a small alley from where they had a good view of the bar's entrance. Savage almost fell asleep when his brother gave him a shove, and he stood up out of reflex. 

Maul pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at a small figure leaving the bar. 

Both could immediately feel the connection they had somehow established that one night on Ilum. The emotions from their connection felt weirdly numb. 

Savage frowned, and the two used the force to jump on the small building to get a better view of Y/N. 

If they followed her directly she would probably notice them too soon, and they wanted to avoid that. Although it seemed unlikely that the former Jedi would spot them. 

The woman walked like a sailor, she staggered forward, clearly having drunk too much for her good. 

Worry sprouted in both the brothers' chests, and they followed her silently. Y/N followed the main road, but then she suddenly froze.

It was only for a second, but her head turned back as if she was searching for something. Maul immediately noticed what she was looking for. 

A group of men loafed in a dark corner and ogled the woman hungrily. They seemed to discuss something, and right when Y/N turned back around and started to move faster, they left their corner and began to pursue her. 

Maul concentrated on the force, and he could feel the malicious intentions of the group. 

"...Let's get her today, I know her usual route and..." 

His eyes darkened considerably, anger burned in his chest, and he said with a growling undertone: 

"You go get her, I'm going to crush some insects." 

Savage eyed him from the side, but when he followed the other Zabrak's nod and heard a snippet of the men's conversation, his expression turned sour too, and he snarled: 

"Leave some for me, brother." 

Maul rolled his shoulder, and right before Savage jumped to the next building, he uttered: 

"No promises, these bastards made a mistake I can't forgive." 

He jumped down the building and landed silently right behind a closed food stall.

The men noticed how Y/N turned around a corner, and they hastily followed her. He did too. 

He stalked them like prey, contemplating whether using his lightsaber to obliterate these bugs would cause him more satisfaction than his fists. 

They rounded another corner when they began to run, and Maul decided now was the time to strike. He used the force to close the distance between him and the five men. 

His yellow eyes glistened with rage, but the Zabrak tried to restrain himself. 

"Good evening, gentlemen", he greeted them with a silky voice. 

They turned around abruptly, definitely not liking his sudden appearance. 

"What do you want?", asked one of them annoyed. 

He was a dirty looking human with bleary eyes. He wasn't the only one who seemed to have drunk too much. 

The alcohol plume around the men stank terribly, and Maul snarled in disgust. 

"Oh, I only wanted to inform you that you shall not live to see the dawn in the next few hours." 

Before one of them could even react, he had clenched his raised hand to a fist, and the only Twi'lek of the group began to cough and grab his throat. He crushed the man's windpipe, while his friends shouted in disbelief and shock. 

Maul sneered at their cowardice, and he gleefully wiped out their lives and disgusting plans they had harbored for his love. 

"How dare you look at Y/N with such disgusting thoughts!", he lost his cool and punched one of the men repeatedly, not even showing mercy when the men's face was completely bashed in. 

The noise of breaking bones and their blood-curling screams resounded in the alley, but no one came looking. 

"How convenient", muttered Maul and shook his fist, but then he changed his mind. 

The ignorance of the Corellians might have killed Y/N if he and his brother hadn't shown up. 

The burning fury in his chest did not diminish, instead, it burned even brighter, and he couldn't stop himself from crushing one of the dead men's skull under his boot. 

The crunch calmed him down a little, and he wiped his shoe at one of the other dead bodies. 

Satisfied, Maul turned, and he strode into the alley where Y/N had disappeared, only to see the woman crumble and fall right into his brother's arms. 

"Y/N!" both he and Savage shouted at the same time, full of worry. 

-

When she woke up, she was wrapped in a warm embrace. Her head pounded, and she frowned in pain. 

Where am I? What happened? 

She turned her head only to look straight into Darth Maul's face, the Zabrak she had kissed only a few months ago. 

She blinked, then noticed the arm on her hip didn't belong to Maul. 

A sigh escaped her lips, and she could imagine what had happened. 

It didn't really surprise her to see the brothers, although it probably should have. But it wasn't the first time where they just showed up out of nowhere. 

Y/N breathed out slowly and right when she wanted to sit up, a deep voice muttered: 

"You're awake." 

She turned to her left, Savage's sunflower eyes boring straight into her. 

"Hi", he whispered breathlessly, and she couldn't stop herself from grinning weakly. 

"Kind of a weak greeting, if we think about the fact that we're laying in bed together, wouldn’t you say?" 

The Zabrak's cheeks tinted, and her grin widened. 

The younger brother had a shy side to himself, and she loved it. Mainly because it was such a huge contrast to his tall and intimidating looks. But then he grabbed her hip tighter, and she couldn't stop herself from shrieking. 

His face was suddenly way too close, and he eyed her lips with a somewhat hungry look. 

"Are you suggesting something?", he whispered, and his deep voice resonated in her ears. 

A pleasant shiver ran down her spine but then a voice interrupted them: 

"Savage." 

It was only a single word from his brother, but both the yellow Zabrak and Y/N could hear the threatening undertone and the warning in it. 

She turned again, and Maul squinted his eyes at her. 

"Good to see you too", she mocked, and he lifted an eyebrow. 

"Is it?" 

The mattress dipped behind her when Savage shifted and supported his head on his arm. 

"Would you mind explaining why you drowned yourself in alcohol only to almost get raped?" 

Y/N stiffened, she remembered the last week of feeling unsafe, and she couldn't stop herself from sinking deeper into the bed, her shoulders quivering slightly. 

"I-I was...", she tried to find some words to explain, but the fact that Maul's angry words held so much truth hit her right in the gut. 

She could have been raped. Or kidnapped and killed. 

She remembered her sad attempts of using the force but not succeeding, and she blinked, tears forming in her eyes. She stared at the ceiling of the brother's spaceship, not noticing how Maul's anger turned into worry, and both brothers watched her with burning gazes. 

"Don't worry", said Savage finally, "you're safe now." 

Maul brushed a strand of hair out of her face and Savage wiped her left eye just in case. 

Y/N breathed out slowly, her voice shaky when she muttered: 

"Thanks, guys. I'm really happy to see you again." 

Both Zabrak flashed a grin and then the younger asked: 

"What to sleep some more? You seem to need it." 

She nodded and yawned as if to confirm his words. 

Y/N smiled and warmth spread in her chest, when they wrapped their arms around her again. 

Both brothers simultaneously tilted their heads to give her a kiss on her forehead, but what she didn't notice was the jealous glares they sent each other when they moved back. 

"Sleep some more, Y/N. We got you."

[into-the-afterlife]

Why I Ship Johnny/Female V Part 3: V, and You, and Me

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

I’ve spent a lot of time in this essay series so far focusing on one half of the pairing. Johnny is fascinating, but he’s only one half of the dynamic. So what about V is interesting? Why does she stand out as a character, in the context of this pairing?

Across different ships, I’ve noticed a consistent pattern. There tends to be one character that the fandom focuses in on to thirst over and one that the fandom imagines themselves being. In this ship, the thirst-character tends to be Johnny, while the self-insert character tends to be V. And that’s not surprising, considering that V is essentially our self-insert into the world of Cyberpunk 2077. It’s also worth noting that people who engage in shipping and transformative fandom tend to be predominantly AFAB, myself included, and it makes sense that when writing sexual stories we’d want a self-insert who has our anatomy.

But fans being AFAB doesn’t usually impact what ships are popular. Shipping is infamously dominated by M/M couples who are, ninety percent of the time, cis. Usually, that impulse to self-insert results in an exaggeration of top-bottom dynamics rather than genderswaps or increased focus on M/F couples.

And the thing about V is, she isn’t just a self-insert. In fandoms focused on open-world RPGs, there tends to be some focus on the player character. However, that focus tends to be limited to the Tumblr-ish, transformative end of fandom. One of my other favourite video game fandoms is The Elder Scrolls. There, people avidly draw and discuss their versions of the protagonists on Tumblr and AO3. But on Reddit and Facebook meme pages, the focus is much more on the other characters, the lore, the worldbuilding.

In this fandom, though? I’ve seen more Vs on Reddit than I have on Tumblr. On Reddit, you’re bombarded with beautiful screenshots of V after V. On Tumblr, there’s tons of new names for V, lovingly thought out backstories and more. And when I see V being shipped with Johnny, V is almost always depicted as female, despite there being an option for a male V and despite the norms of shipping favouring a male V.

So it’s clear that female V inspires more affection than most RPG protagonists. Part of that is to do with Cherami Leigh’s voice acting that I covered in Part 1. But I also think there’s a lot in V’s writing that influences things this way.

CD Projekt Red’s writers are known for focusing on character and plot over worldbuilding in their writing. There’s no, ‘I used to be an adventurer like you...’ in their games, no blank-slate hero or awkward, generic background dialogue. Instead, their other protagonist, Geralt, reacts to chasing after goats and weird children and ancient beings as his own person. The world he inhabits is similarly richly drawn, with even the most bland of background guards discussing gimps and birthdays.

There’s also no black-and-white morality. Even in The Witcher games, their fantasy series, the morality leans much closer to Game of Thrones than The Lord of the Rings. This means that their characters are always three-dimensional. Their first true RPG is actually Cyberpunk 2077. Oh, sure, they’ve done games with rich worlds and lots of sidequests, with skill-trees and moral options, but they’ve always had an authored character, with his own slants and biases. Even when Geralt picks the moral option, he’s likely to be cynical about it, and he always leans towards being a grizzled libertarian who’s Done With This Shit at heart.

Despite their provision of a relatively blank-slate character in this game, this influence lingers on in Cyberpunk 2077. One of the big critiques of the game at launch was that the much-hyped lifepath system felt clunky and didn’t have much of an influence on later gameplay. It’s true that the backstory sacrifices some smoothness of plot and introduction to the world.

But what it gets rid of in those aspects, it makes up for in characterisation. No matter what path you choose, V is never an anonymous prisoner, a mysterious courier or a long-forgotten colonist. She has a clearly defined context, and real roots in the world around her. Even after you move past the prologue, V has the network of people around her you’d expect for someone already embedded in the world. After you’re shot, you don’t just go to some random ripperdoc; you go to Vik, her regular ripperdoc and friend. You don’t get the tarot sidequest from reading an anonymous shard; you get it from Misty. Jackie dating Misty suggests that he introduced V to Misty and Vik. V getting to know them through Jackie feels natural, and just like the kinds of close communal networks that spring up in large cities. Meanwhile, the unique dialogue options for each lifepath keep reminding you that V had a life before you met her.

And that’s true even for the other dialogue options. Here’s a minor, early-game set of dialogue choices from Cyberpunk 2077:

And here’s a similarly minor, early-game set of dialogue choices from a recent RPG that shares a lot of tonal and thematic similarities with Cyberpunk – The Outer Worlds:

Notice the difference in attitudes allowed by each set of dialogue options. The player character of The Outer Worlds has the opportunity to respond compassionately, snarkily or lie for their own advantage. Deception is specifically highlighted and controlled by a skill tree, and each dialogue choice has its own tone and flavour. Meanwhile, all of V’s dialogue choices can be interpreted as some kind of attempt at deception. They’re also all written in the same voice. While The Outer Worlds offers matter-of-fact kindness, brevity and colourful imagery, V’s dialogue choices all share sentence fragments, spunkiness, bluntness and emotional volatility. No matter what choices you make, V’s attitude and voice always stays the same.

The way dialogue choices are controlled is also worth examining. There seem to be more choices on the surface in Cyberpunk, but a full half of them are controlled by skill trees. Level V up differently to this YouTuber, and they may not even be available. The skills themselves also betray a lack of choice here. While speech is split into five different skills in The Outer Worlds, and the skill used here is directly named ‘Lie’, in Cyberpunk 2077 the skills are simply named ‘Reflexes’ and ‘Cool’. That’s partially due to differences in RPG mechanics, which is beyond the scope of this essay. But look at the names themselves. While The Outer Worlds singles out deception, and bluntly names it for what it is, Cyberpunk 2077 frames quick thinking and bluffing as simply part of the reactions and social attitudes required to survive in Night City. Even the very names of the game mechanics are coloured by V’s attitudes.

While V’s status as an independent character is coloured by CD Projekt Red’s previous experience, it’s definitely not an accident. They had an entire trailer dedicated to answering the question of who V is. For the question of whether V keeps her own personality to be compelling, V has to have a personality in the first place. And in the Temperance ending, the emotional impact of seeing V as an NPC in cyberspace, as well as the final, long shot of V’s face on the bus, depends on you having built up a relationship with her as a separate character. She’s a fascinating mix of self-insert and defined character, and purely from a writing perspective, breaks a lot of new ground for RPG protagonists.

But back to the subject at hand: shipping. She’s just self-insert enough for you to imagine yourself as part of a heightened reality, as someone blisteringly witty, quick-thinking and intelligent. And feeling competent and confident, whether in the real world or in-game, brings you back into your body and makes you feel confident enough to pursue what brings you pleasure. But V’s also just enough of her own person that you can care for her and want her to be happy. That combination of affection and wish fulfilment is what the best ships are made of.

Another huge part of V’s popularity in the Cyberpunk fandom comes from the way gender, or the lack of it, interacts with her characterisation. Of course, you can make her look and dress however you want; that’s one of the beautiful things about RPG protagonists. But her lines and interactions with other characters, thanks to them having to be voiced by male V as well, are refreshingly gender-neutral. To understand this further, let’s take a look at some concrete examples.

Cyberpunk 2077, particularly during the prologue and Act 1, takes a lot of inspiration from Grand Theft Auto. Fast cars, exciting crimes, the obligatory strippers and prostitutes; they’re all there.

These kinds of gritty, sexualised game worlds have attracted criticism from feminist media analysts for normalising violence against women and normalising extreme violence as the default and desirable way of responding to the world. What I think about these takes would take its own essay to get into. But the part of these critiques I do agree with is this. By having protagonists in these worlds always be hypermasculine cis male protagonists, and by having victims of crimes and sexualised characters always be cis women, these worlds repeatedly and unnecessarily sideline anyone who’s not a cis man from imagining themselves having power and agency.

However, where Cyberpunk 2077 differentiates itself from other examples of these game worlds is its lack of gendered differentiation for its protagonist. Ninety-nine percent of the time throughout the game, male and female V voice exactly the same lines. This means that if you choose to play as female V, female V is characterised exactly the same way as male V.

Let’s take a look at some concrete examples of this. The biggest is V’s relationship with Jackie. It’s rarely that you see a male-female friendship that stays as platonic as this one does in media, and I welcome it. The quest called ‘The Ripperdoc’ demonstrates this, in the conversation when Jackie and V drive to see Vik:

Jackie [with relish]: ...I got a date - me and Misty.

V: You don’t say...

Jackie [confidentially]: She’s soooo sweet. Really gets me, y’know?

Jackie describes his relationship with Misty in respectful terms, and isn’t afraid to detail the emotional aspects of his and Misty’s connection. But he doesn’t hold back on the macho bragging either. In these lines, and especially in the pleased, suggestive tone of the first line, it’s clear he’s proud to be the kind of guy who could date someone like Misty. The presence of both of these attitudes together shows that Jackie both trusts V and considers V a part of his traditional-masculinity-valuing world. It’s less ‘not like other girls’ and more ‘not like other mercs’.

Similarly, while V’s first interactions with Johnny do draw from highly gendered relationship dynamics, the actual content of V’s responses undercut any feminising this would give her. Here’s one exchange from ‘Playing For Time’:

Johnny: The fuck kinda joytoy are you supposed to be?

V: Fuckin’ ghost off!

Johnny calls V a whore. Before and after, he physically hurts her in ways that, in my opinion, have a highly sexual undertone. But the crucial bit is how V responds here. She neither responds in a helpless, damsel-in-distress sort of way, nor in a defiant, sassy heroine way, where she might take the gendered insults and own them or prove them wrong via physical prowess. In fact, she doesn’t react to the gendered aspect of Johnny’s comment at all. Where a game with a Strong Female Character (TM) would use gendered jabs to refocus attention on said character, Cyberpunk blows them off to focus on the reality of this particular character’s situation.

Outside of V’s closest relationships, this gender neutrality can also be seen in the wider world of Night City. Dexter DeShawn is one of the most tropey, Grand Theft Auto-esque characters you meet in the game. As such, he’s one of the best barometers for how gender interacts with the ‘usual’ state of the world. And how does he react to a female V?

The answer is, not at all. He addresses her as ‘Ms V’, but that comes across as less about her and more about him being high up enough in the world that he can afford affectations. Her gender simply isn’t relevant. While this is increasingly common in pop culture, it’s still rare in worldbuilding like this, where gender is all too frequently used as a lens through which to explore violent, chaotic worlds. In a type of world and tone where gender roles are traditionally emphasised , V slips past those roles and is allowed to exist beyond them.

But why does gender neutrality make V more appealing to ship? To answer that fully, it needs to be combined with my next point.

V is also compelling to ship because her characterisation gives a safe platform from which to imagine her being vulnerable. What I mean by that is this. The main aspect of V’s characterisation in canon is her status as a merc. How you experience her life, through gameplay and through the situations she gets into, is through her skills at hacking, sneaking and killing. You don’t just witness her competence, daring and toughness; you share in it.

When writing fiction that focuses on romantic relationships, one of the toughest balances to get right is that of competency and vulnerability. Any good romantic arc involves watching a character’s barriers come down, seeing how they react to the other person when they lay aside their protective pretences. But this can’t happen too soon, or too much, for either the protagonist or the love interest. Competency and assuredness are huge parts of what makes someone attractive, and they’re also huge parts of feeling like you can come out and play, sexually speaking. Even for the biggest submissive on the planet, the submission has to be a deliberate choice to be hot.

Taken together, V’s canonical characterisation and the possibilities and conventions of fandom provide the perfect balance of those two qualities. Canon makes it clear that V is capable and strong. When you or I imagine our Vs with Johnny, that buildup of ‘competence capital’ makes it feel safe enough to imagine V vulnerable.

And that safety is vital when shipping any character with a character like Johnny. This is where the gender neutrality I talked about earlier comes into play. Imagining V vulnerable feels safe. So does imagining V in a dynamic with a guy who’s a tropey bad boy. Because V is written in such a gender-neutral way, it lets the player enjoy all the deliciously dangerous aspects of her relationship with Johnny without the distractions that may come from feeling disempowered. It also refreshes all the clichés of Dangerous Guys, making their impact feel fresh and new again. Her ability to walk the line between wish fulfilment and independent characterisation inspires simultaneous identification with her, affection for her and boosts in confidence for the player.

This is why she’s compelling to ship. Johnny brings in the familiar emotional arcs of classic tropes, while V makes them new. So what happens when you put these two characters together? Just what about the way they bounce off each other has inspired the majority of fic and art in this fandom?

That’s what I’ll talk about next time.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[bigskydreaming]

About all the stuff you were talking about, do you know any fics that handle those things well? It is exhausting trying to go through the Dick Grayson tag to try and find ones that handle even one of those remotely well so any you can tell me would be wonderful.

I use my Bookmarks page as a go-to for people looking for that sorta thing. I haven’t added to it in awhlie which is like, a useful reminder for myself to rectify that.

I’m not sure off the top of my head what fics on there address these particular areas of canon or fanon issues, but they’re in there, and I don’t bookmark anything I wouldn’t reread since that’s....the only reason I bookmark stuff lol. Aka nothing that contains elements or fanon tropes/issues that would’ve pulled me out of the read on the first go-through.

Specific authors who I consistently like for their takes on all of that, hmmm....off the top of my head, @dustorange only deals in Quality Stuff and her Hierarchy of Needs for Dick’s characterization has similar enough rankings to my own personal one, that I’m always like, yes, this hit all the beats I was hoping for from this summary, I am full, I could not eat another bite. But maybe a dessert course later. I guess. If you insist.

In terms of specific takes and tropes I’ve been talking about tonight, @themessofthecentury has a fic that delves into all the Spyral aftermath in a really satisfying way. Y’ever been like, ugh can someone please write a lengthy beast of a multi-chapter that takes all of that and says ‘Lo, there is Gold in these hills” and has a range of POVs but that all consistently prioritize and center Dick in the areas and matters he should be the one prioritized? That’s the one, that’s Fault Lines, its a WIP but its alive and kicking and very much what you’re looking for to read something actually catharctic after the way all of that was handled in canon and most related fics.

Umm, lessee.... @hood-ex is all about Top Notch Tropes, especially for great scenes where Dick’s with a wide range of characters, and its like, casual slice-of-life stuff, but delivered in a way that Just Says No to fanon and even when writing Dick as light-hearted and having a good day, its like...actually in character for him and he’s not Dick Grayson, The Balloon Animal That Walks Like A Man (but is actually 70% sugary cereal). You gotta follow her on tumblr though to get all the fics, cuz she’s like me in that she writes a lot of done-in-one scenes that never get moved over to Ao3 because eh, we’ll do it tomorrow but also we’ll forget about it by tonight so no actually we won’t. And thus there’s a lot of hidden gems to be found there.

@ckbookish writes a lot of stuff set in the early Nightwing days when Jason was Robin, and from what I’ve read there’s a lot of focus on Dick and Jason bonding and also exploration of Dick’s thoughts and reactions to Bruce’s “Bruce NO” behavior of that era that’s very much in character and IMO hits all the right notes in the complicated arrangement of allowing Dick his Feels there and placing the appropriate blame where appropriate but without demonizing Bruce and over-embellishing the more than enough to work with fuck-ups canon helpfully provided for that era. 

In fact, in general I’m inclined to say the author sticks as closely to canon as possible while just....making it better by just adding the little ingredient that is ‘Actual Exploration of Dick’s Feelings and Choices As Viewed Through Empathy-Colored Glasses By Someone Who I Feel Actually HAS Met or Been A Teenager At Some Point in Their Life and Thus Is Aware They’re Not Actually Unreasonable Wild Animals Whose Behavior Even When Rational Is Actually Irrational Cuz Hormones Yeah I Know I Was Surprised Too’. So I’d say their work consistenly delivers the story and emotional beats I look for from Bruce, Dick and Jason in that era, actually humanizing all three of them without going overboard with adding flaws all willy-nilly just cuz.

The only reason its not on my bookmarks page is cuz unfortunately, the sticking close to canon means Dick joining the Bludhaven police force to try and clean it up from the inside, and like.....not a criticism or condemnation of the execution of that premise at all, like, Dick’s clear in his reasons and from what I read goes about it in a way that actually fits if Dick had criticisms of the institution as a whole and an earnest belief he can effect change to it from the inside, its just like, purely as a personal subjectivity thing, Dick Grayson and Being a Cop is like my ultimate NOTP, I see it and I reflexively hiss like a vampire who forgot the sun was a thing. Its just not for me in any execution, but if that’s not true for you then its got everything else I’d look for in fic and thus while I can’t vouch for his characterization or the dynamics in later stories, like, I’m pretty sure you’d still be in Primo Characterization territory. 

There’s stuff on my bookmarks page from an author named discowing(amelia from a fairytale) - something like that. I can’t recall their tumblr off the top of my head but I know she says it somewhere in some of her author’s notes. Anyway, her stuff runs the gamut but consistently delivers on moments I really wish we could see in canon, so def worth a read. And I know her views on the Spyral aftermath and what’s needed for actual catharsis there are right in my wheelhouse, just in general, so if that’s the barometer you’re going by, then like.....idk whatever a barometer says or does when it gets the readings its supposed to, look its late, that’s the metaphor I’m going with, just pretend it was solid.

Those are just some of the authors where I’m familiar with more than one of their works off the top of my head and tend to like their focus and narrative/character choices across the board. I don’t know the full extent of work of every author linked on my Bookmarks page, like a lot of people write a lot of fic in a lot of fandom and I see a long list of fandoms and fics all organized by date posted so its more like one DC fic per page, and my ADHD self is like hahaha what if it was naptime tho zzzz.

But yeah, that’s not nearly enough to sate my greed and want for Good Dick Grayson Takes but it should get you started. There’s some good stuff out there, that’s never been in question, its just that like you said, it can be exhausting trying to wade through fics that you can’t tell at a glance if they’d be to your liking or not because the tags are all complimentary of Dick but two chapters in you’re like wait is this the other kids’ brother or is this their nanny, I feel like I’m reading about what if Fran Drescher wore tights and fought crime with flippity-flips. Which I mean, that’s a Premise right there, alright, its just not remotely the premise I look for out of fic where I have the weird expectation that Dick should be treated and regarded more like equal family to his siblings than like, okay what if he was actually just an au pair that was mostly hired to be eye candy.