#REALLY ANYTHING HYBRID FOR CHIP JUST MAKES SO MUCH SENSE AND IS SO FUN

[justa-moth]

JRWI EXCHANGE TIME !!!!

HAPPY @jrwi-art-exchange TO @starsinoursystem !!!!! FOX CHIP FESTIVITIES FOR THE FOX CHIP GUY !!!!

[peachyteez]

mint chocolate chip ice cream ≫ DAY TWO, CARROTS.

this abandoned, shy bunny hybrid loves hanging around the open field area of the recovery facility. one day, with the help of jungkook, another bunny hybrid, jiyu meets mingi. after days of mingi being too shy and running away from her, a bag of carrots and mint chocolate ice chip cream was all it took to seal the deal.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: fun fact, i almost accidentally deleted this whole thing when i meant to edit it 😭

✧ WARNING: small mention of abuse

back。| next。

“since when did you like carrots that much?” yeonjun asked as he eyed the huge ziploc bag of carrots that jiyu took out.

“they’re not for me,” she wryly chuckled. “you were right yesterday, there was a stray out in the field. a bunny one,” she explained. “he seemed pretty frazzled and scared, so i thought carrots could help.”

yeonjun gave a small nod. “what are you planning on doing if he warms up to you?”

jiyu bit her lip in thought. “i actually haven’t figured that part out yet...” she sheepishly admitted. “but yunho told me about a friend of his whose also bunny hybrid. he had red hair and this bunny hybrid also has red hair, so i was going to ask him if he knew yunho.”

“and if he doesn’t?”

“...then i’ll just ask if he has a place to go home to. which there’s a high chance he doesn’t, he’s a stray after all...”

yeonjun twirled his pen in between his fingers. “well, one of the hybrids under my care is going to be transferred to the adoption center soon. if you want and if he doesn’t have a place then he can take that spot,” he offered.

with a small hum, she got up with the bag of baby carrots. “that sounds great. thanks, jun!” she chirped before leaving to go outside. she hoped to see the tall, red-haired bunny hybrid again.

and she was in luck. stepping out to the spot from the previous day, she found the bunny sunbathing in the sun. his arms were crossed under his head as pillows and his eyes were closed. he seemed so at peace that jiyu felt it was a crime to have him run away if she were to startle him.

feeling someone’s presence behind him, the bunny hybrid’s ears perked up in alert and he instantly shot up into a sitting position. turning around, his eyes widened seeing jiyu there. with a gasp, he frantically curled into a defensive huddle as he trembled from fear.

jiyu frowned before sitting down a distance away from the stray hybrid. “i won’t hurt you, big guy,” she gently reassured, a soft smile on her face for extra reassurance. “you could run me over with how tall you are,” she chuckled.

peeking his head up from his curled up position, he warily observed jiyu. his eyes stopped at her nametag. hwang, jiyu. hybrid caretaker.

hybrid caretaker? where am i? he thought as his eyes flitted through his surroundings. this isn’t a park?

“um...” jiyy hesitantly called out to him. she brought the bag of carrots out from behind her. “i brought carrots as a sign of peace...?” she sheepishly said.

he felt his mouth start to water at the food in front of him. it’s been a while since he had a decent meal; he had previously been digging through various trash bins from restaurants for food, as well as occassionally raiding a few vegetable gardens here and there. he glanced up at jiyu, then back to the bag. it went on for a while before jiyu gently pushed the bag closer.

seeing that jiyu was just sitting there, he slowly crept to the bag and snatched it before scurrying back a few feet farther away from her. she didn’t do anything. instead, she sat there with a warm smile as she watched him open the bag and start munching on the carrots.

“so cute...” she mumbled under her breath as she watched the giant bunny devour the contents of the bag. a small frown took over her smile. “he’s eating like that’s his last meal...” she realized as she watched him more.

once he finished, he slowly moved closer to her and slid the now-empty bag towards her before scooting back a safe distance again. instead of curling up into a ball, he sat with his knees against his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. he curiously stared at her, waiting anxiously for her next move.

“you were pretty hungry, huh,” she said as she took the bag and put it in her pocket. “are you a stray?” she gently asked.

he lightly nodded, an action so small that it could’ve gone unnoticed to an unobservant eye. jiyu’s eyes wandered to his bare neck. “hm...just like him.”

who’s him? he cocked his head to the side at her mumble. his ears swayed with his head, making jiyu smile.

he’s too cute, oh my lord. she internally squealed. but the more she observed the hybrid in front of her, the more she was convinced he was yunho’s friend. they both had red hair, and they were strays. it adds up, but what if she was wrong?

“hey bub,” she quietly called out to the bunny as to not scare him. “can you tell me your name?” she saw him tense at her question. she deflated a little. i guess it’s still going to take some getting used to.

“hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” she followed up after seeing his hesitance. “i know you’re probably still wary, so i won’t force anything.”

before he could react, jiyu stood up and stretched her arms above her head. “i’ve said this countless amount of times to hybrids i work with, but the humans here, myself included, won’t harm you. just remember that, yeah?” she smiled before turning around to walk back into the building since she had to start making her morning rounds. “i’ll come back out again at twelve-thirty,” she called back to him.

he stared at her retreating figure in wonder. she’s weird... however, despite his earlier doubts, he spotted the familiar woman coming towards him later that day. in her hands were bags of what he assumed to be food.

she sat a safe distance away from him again and pushed another bag of carrots towards him. “i would get you something else, but i’m not quite sure what else you like besides carrots,” she explained with a meek smile.

like earlier, he slowly took the bag and scurried back a good distance away before munching on the orange vegetable. there was so much he wanted to tell her, but he was scared. memories of his old home flashed through his brain. how he was punished when he spoke up about his own feelings, thoughts, opinions...basically anything that went against what his owners wanted. it scarred him; since running away, he never gave his opinion on anything for others. he just went with the flow. while it did benefit him, there were times it got him into hostile situations.

he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a small gasp from the woman in front of him. stealing a glance at her, he found her entranced with a butterfly that had landed on a flower next to her. with the way her eyes sparkled in fascination, she resembled a child that was getting to know the world for the first time. it almost made him laugh. almost. seeing her pout when the butterfly flew away was the cherry on top and a tiny giggle passed his lips. he slapped a hand over his mouth. luckily, since they were a distance away, she didn’t hear him.

“aw man, it was really pretty, too,” she pouted as she watched it fly away. turning her phone on, she realized her forty-five minutes were up. she cleaned up her trash and stood up. “it’s time for me to go,” she announced the bunny.

mingi just stared at her before looking down at the bag of carrots in his hands. he had only munched on half of them, and he was quite sad that he had to give up his food. sensing his distress, jiyu chuckled. “you can keep the rest of the carrots. i gave them to you after all.”

his eyes slightly widened. jiyu smiled before waving. “see you around, bub.” she discreetly smiled at her lunch bag that she had left behind.

watching her walk off, mingi continued munching on the baby carrots. as he reached in for another, he realized he had eaten them all. frowning at his lack of control to save them, his eyes landed on the bag that jiyu left behind. scurrying over, he was about to go after jiyu before he saw a note taped to the paper bag.

i had a feeling you’d eat all the carrots so there’s two more bags in here! eat them to your heart’s content! also, let me know somehow of there’s anything else you want to eat :)

a foreign feeling bloomed in his chest. it was like warm fireworks, a feeling that made a genuine smile appear on his face. opening the bag, he found two ziploc bags of carrots and a water bottle. she’s weird...but nice.

“be glad i went home and sacrificed my carrots for you,” yeonjun flicked her forehead when she came back to her desk. “now i gotta stop the market for more before soobin whines...”

“sorry, jun,” she sheepishly said. “hongjoong told me we ran out so i thought you’d have some because of binnie.”

“you owe me one,” he ruffled her hair, but his smile said otherwise. “so how’s the stray bunny?”

“he’s adorable, but still guarded. he was too hesitant to even tell me his name.”

“give him some more time. knowing you, you’d probably find a way to help him open up like you did with seonghwa and hongjoong. just follow your instincts and gut.”

remembering the way the bunny hybrid had munched on the carrots, the way his eyes would sparkle in curiousity, the way his ears swayed with his head, jiyu chuckled. “you’re right,” she replied, unaware of how she had made the bunny’s day.

[atiny-ahgase]

A  Promise And A Stray Pup (Part 1 of 2?)

Title: A Promise And A Stray Pup

Chapter 1: Pinky Promise 

Author’s Note: Hi hi, it’s Gabby here. Hope that you all are doing well. I thought about the idea for this fic for a really long time so I hope that my planning and attention to detail shines through. 

Disclaimer: This fic starts off with a flashback to when Y/n was really young, nothing weird or bad happens but I just wanted to put this out there in case it makes anyone uncomfortable. It’s just a simple fic about a kid and a stray dog.

Summary: Y/n returns home in search of a hybrid friend that she had left oh so long ago. Will she be able to help him? Did their friendship withstand the hands of time or did it crumble from the pressure? 

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Pairing: Hybrid Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 6.4 k (Or something like that...)

Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff

Contains: Hybrid Yunho, Gender Neutral Reader, Fluff, Slight Angst, Suggestive, Mentions a dead relative

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Tagging: @sangie-baby​

Props to @yungidreamer​ for helping me out with proof reading and reviewing. Thank you for making sense out of my nonsense lol.

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“Mom I don’t wanna go to big kid school,” you whined as you walked alongside your mother, your rubber boots splashing in the puddles beneath you. It had been pouring rain but your mother was determined to get you to school as it was your first day. You on the other hand were less than thrilled to be there. You wanted nothing more than to sleep in, wake up late and play with your toys every day. But apparently “big kids” had to go to school and learn things. Holding onto her hand helped you keep up with her fast pace until you arrived at the school that you would be attending. You didn’t know what jail looked like but if you had to imagine it in your 6-year-old brain, this would be it. You squeezed your mother’s hand even tighter. She couldn’t just leave you here, could she? Your question was later answered when an adult who you assumed to be your teacher swept you away from your mother’s grasp. You hated it here.

You had been homeschooled till now and by homeschooled you meant that you stayed at home and learned your Alphabet with your dad. But after your dad had passed there was no one to supervise you at home since your mom had to work extremely long hours just to make ends meet, hence how you ended up here. You were grumpy for the entire day, ensuring that your teacher knew that you didn’t want to be there. Even at 6 years old you were a force to be reckoned with, you were stubborn and not afraid to show it. 

Thankfully the day flew by and before you knew it, it was time to head home. Finally, you’d be able to leave this hell and retreat into the four walls of your comfortable home. Your mother had contacted the school beforehand informing them that she’d be running a little late. You knew that you could walk home on your own; you were incredibly independent for your age. There was this one time where you had walked home from the park after being separated from your parents. You still remembered the look on their faces when they found you seated on the wooden rocking chair in the front porch, your little legs not even touching the ground as you waited for them. Even after all of that she still said that you couldn't walk home on your own; something about bad men stealing children or something like that. So you had to stay in school until your mother came to pick you up. Until then you just walked along the inside of your school fence, hand brushing against the cold metal. 

Your fingers bumped over the wires as you walked, aimlessly running your hand over the chain-link fence. You followed the fence bordering the school which eventually lead you to the back of the school yard. There was a dark and dismal alley behind the school, it seemed to be the place where the neighbourhood gathered their garbage to be later collected by the garbage trucks. Raising your head you saw a pile of clothes pressed up against the cold concrete wall. Not paying it any mind to it you continued walking until you noticed the pile slightly moving. Looking closer you realized that what had originally appeared to be a lump of discarded clothing was actually a boy, he didn’t seem to be that much older than you but a hood concealed most of his face. You stared at him for quite some time, trying to understand what was going on, did he not have school? Mom said that all big kids had to go to school. Why wasn’t he in school? 

Your hands grasped onto the metal wiring of the fence as you peered at him, your mother had always said that it was rude to stare but you couldn’t help it, he was so fascinating. Without warning his head shot up, eyes immediately finding yours. You jumped back in shock, your heart racing in your chest as you fell unto the floor, your hands grazing upon the heated asphalt. He seemed to be just as surprised as you were, his eyes blown out in surprise as he looked at you. There you stayed staring at him from your spot on the floor, his head slightly tilted as he crawled a little closer to the fence, seemingly examining you. Now that he was no longer masked by the shadow of the alley wall you could see his face more clearly. He had bright yellow eyes along with a warm brown puff of hair on his head. Under his hood, you could clearly see the indent of two ears protruding through. He was a hybrid. Your mother had told you about hybrids before, she said that they were scary individuals that didn’t deserve to be treated as humans, she said that they were bad and dangerous and you should stay away from them.

But he didn’t look dangerous nor scary at all, he looked...startled. You stood up from the floor taking a tentative step towards him. With every step that you took, he stepped backwards, eyes never once leaving yours. “Ahchoo”, you heard him sneeze in front of you. “Bless you,” you laughed before smiling brightly at him. There was no response, he just looked at you with the same shocked expression that he had before. “Maybe he was just shy,” you thought. “Do you like chocolate?” you asked excitedly while bouncing in place. Surely he did, everyone did. You placed your lunch kit on the floor before rummaging through it to find your chocolate chip cookies. Finding the bag you attempted to push it through the holes of the fence only to realize that the bag was too big. You frowned slightly, saddened by the fact that you couldn’t share your cookies with him. You stood for a moment pondering about what to do before a light bulb came up in your head.

Grasping the pack you opened the top before taking a cookie in your tiny hands and sliding them through the fence, offering the snack to the boy. He looked at it for a moment before grabbing it from your hand and consuming it in one bite. “He must be really hungry,” you deduced. You took another cookie from the bag giving it to him and watching him eat cookie after cookie. “I’m sorry, it’s all finished. I’ll be sure to bring more tomorrow okay?” you said to him; expecting a reply you looked at him but he just ran off. You looked into the alley as he sped away, blending into the darkness. “He seems fun,” you thought as you smiled widely.

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“Mom may I please have an extra bag of cookies today?” you asked your mother as you ate your breakfast.

“You know that you can’t eat too much sweet hun,” she stated while packing your lunch kit.

“It’s not for me. I made a new friend so I wanted to give one to him,” you replied while smiling brightly at her.

“Oh well that’s great sweetie,” she stated while finding another bag of cookies to place into your kit “, What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure; he’s really shy,” you replied, a hint of sadness clearly in your voice as you looked down at your plate of scrambled eggs.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m sure that he’ll love the cookies,” she smiled at you before patting your head. 

Your mother dropped you off at the school, waving you goodbye as you walked into the building. The day was a little more manageable but maybe that was because you were so excited for school to be over so you could see your new friend again. Well, at least the person that you wanted to be your new friend...if he wanted you to be. The bell rang through the hallways of the school and you found yourself running to the spot where you had first seen the little hybrid boy. Stopping at where you felt was the same spot, you looked into the shadows of the alley; your face sinking when you didn’t see him. You dropped your bags on the warm asphalt and stooped down; waiting for him. “Maybe he was late,” you thought while aimlessly playing with your nails. You felt like you were there for hours but in reality, it was probably only a few minutes.

“H-hi,” you heard a voice speak from in front of you, you didn’t jump or even flinch at all; it didn’t seem the least bit threatening. Looking up from your spot on the floor you notice the hybrid boy from yesterday. You smiled brightly at him before going into your bag to retrieve the bag of cookies. You both stayed silent as he ate. You thought that maybe he’d open up a little today but you were wrong, he didn’t even tell you his name.

This cookie exchange carried on for the duration of the school term and you still didn’t know anything about him. But that didn’t deter you one bit. Even though he had never really said anything with his words you felt as though you told you so much with his eyes. They weren’t the typical brown, blue, grey or any of the usual colours that you noticed the other students in the school had. His eyes were a bright yellow, they shone like the sun, radiating warmth straight into your little heart. And they spoke straight to your soul, thanking you for being with him, for staying with him. Thanking you for being there.

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You wiped your tired eyes as you trudged through the bleak school halls, heading to your classroom. Your body felt drained from all of the tears you had shed the previous day . After arriving home from school, your mother had informed you that she had just gotten a new job which meant that you had to move away. She said that it was really far and that you’d have to change schools.

If you had gotten this information at the beginning of the term your little heart would have been elated; overjoyed that you’d be leaving the confines of these bleak school walls, but that wasn’t the case. What would happen to the little hybrid boy that you had befriended? How would you both eat cookies together if you left? The very thought of leaving him left an aching feeling in your chest, it felt as though your soul was being ripped out of your body.

The immense feeling of sorrow which washed over you brought with it a flood of tears which you could not control. The salty liquid filled your eyes before cascading off of your cheeks and dampening the plush rug beneath your feet. It was as though the floodgates had opened as water rushed through without any indication of stopping until the river was drained of every last drop of water, your body releasing every last tear that it could muster up. Every comforting word that your mother had attempted to provide being drowned out by your wails of sadness. The next morning you woke up to the bright morning sun shining through your window, casting a golden glow across everything that it touched. Your mother had tucked you in, wrapping your body in your woolen blanket after finding you asleep on the couch.

Walking into class you took your seat and waited for your teacher to begin their lesson, their voice drifting further and further away until you couldn’t hear it at all, your own thoughts drowning out the world around you. Your mind was filled with so many other things, so many different emotions. You didn’t have space to even think about what was going on around you, all you could think about was him.

Opening your sketchbook you began to aimlessly doodle, in an attempt to distract yourself from the aching feeling that had never left your chest. Everything that you saw, everything that you did, reminded you of him. The sunflowers that you had mindlessly scribbled were his eyes, the faded black of the chalkboard; his washed-out jeans, even the deafening silence of during naptime reminding you of the comfortable silence that you both had shared so many times before. You wished that you had started attending public school a little earlier, then maybe you could have held onto him a little longer, make him smile a little brighter.

Your teacher had decided for the entire class to do a craft that day, sort of like a going-away present. So, all of the students made 2 friendship bracelets, one for themselves and one for their friend. You spent the entirety of your evening constructing 2 little bracelets each of different colours. Crafts have always been one of your favourite things, what could be more fulfilling than having an idea and bringing it to life? Of course, this activity would serve as a great distraction from the aching feeling which inhabited your heart.

After completing your bracelets you gently placed them on the table in front of you; the silver pendants glistening in the afternoon sun. “Oh these are lovely Y/n,” your teacher commented from beside you “, Are those your favourite colours?” Looking down you admired the bright blue and yellow bands of the individual bracelets. “Umm no,” you replied in an almost puzzled tone. You didn’t really have a reason for choosing those colours, they just sort of came to you. “Well maybe they remind you of something that makes you happy,” she smiled before slightly ruffling your hair. Your teacher had expected you to give your bracelet to someone from your class but you never did. You held on to that bright yellow bracelet for the rest of the day.

When the class had finally ended you walked over to your usual spot for the last time, your feet dragging on the asphalt as you slowly made your way to the back of the school. He was already there, leaned up against the wall; his grey oversized hoodie and black pants hanging off of his slightly smaller frame. You had never seen him in anything else and at first, you would often question it but now it gave you some sort of comfort; it was your constant in this ever-changing world. He smiled as he saw you approaching, his bright eyes lighting up as his tail wagged energetically. You loved how even when he said nothing you could still see his true emotions, they shone through like sunbeams through a glass window. He didn’t have to say anything to you, you knew that he was happy to see you. 

“That’s okay,” he said; your head shooting up at the sound of his voice, that was the most words that he had ever said to you. “We can eat them next time right Y/n”, he continued. Maybe he knew that something bad had happened and this was his way of trying to cheer you up. You knew that he meant well when he said “next time” but in your book, there was no next time because you were moving soon. “Momma said that we’re moving away so we can’t eat cookies together anymore,” said as your voice trembled. You tried your best to hold in your tears but you were really going to miss him, there was just something about him that you really loved, you loved spending time with him. 

With everything that had happened yesterday you had forgotten to bring him cookies, hopefully, he wouldn’t be mad. You hurried to meet him, your little feet scurrying to the fence. You were now facing him, your head tilted up slightly to look him in the eye. They reminded you of a Sunflower field, bold, bright and beautiful; you could get lost in them for hours, you were going to miss that. His head tilted slightly as he pushed his hand through one of the holes in the fence and patting your head; probably sensing your melancholy mood. Clearing your throat you opened your mouth to speak.

“I forgot the cookies today. Sorry,” you stated before looking down at your feet; you couldn’t bear to see sadness form in his eyes. You both couldn’t even eat cookies together for the last time and that was your fault, too. Today was the last day that you were going to be seeing him and you couldn’t even share that together. Your stomach churned at the feeling of disappointment that welled up inside of you. The tears in your eyes already prepared to break through your calm exterior.

“We’ll see each other again though right?” he inquired, his ears sitting flat against his head, his cheerful voice in direct contrast to his saddened appearance; you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms and give him a big hug. But you were separated by the fence, this physical barrier blocking out the emotions that you both had felt. “Yeah...I’ll come back, I promise,” you said while wiping away the tears which had managed to escape from your eyes. “I don’t know when I’ll be back but I will come back okay, um,” you began but he still hadn’t told you his name. “Yunho,” he said, his yellow eyes searching yours for any sigh of deceit. “I’ll wait for you forever okay Y/n, pinky promise,” he said as he held out his pinky finger to you. You couldn’t help but smile at the act, this was the most sacred of promises, but you knew that you’d keep it with all of your heart. You crossed your significantly smaller pinky with his own, promising to return to him someday.

“Oh. I made you something,” you chimed in; just remembering about your friendship bracelets. Pulling away you dig into your bag in search of the yellow sunflower friendship bracelet you had made in class. Finally finding it you pulled it out of your bag and showed it to him. “It’s yellow just like your eyes,” you said with a big smile plastered across your face. His expression changed from one of confusion to pure joy, as his face broke into a bright smile to match yours. Placing your hands through the fence you secured the bracelet to his wrist before placing your blue iris bracelet. “These are a sign of our friendship okay? So no matter how far away we are from each other we will always be bonded by these bracelets,” you explained while looking into his big bright yellow eyes.

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“Is this the last box?” your mom asked as you loaded the moving truck. “Yeah that’s the last of it,” you replied while drying your sweaty palms off on your jeans. She had never understood why you wanted to return to your old home for university. It wasn’t like you had that many memories there anyway, you moved away when you were six. This was your new home, filled with the friends that you had acquired for the past 12 years. And of course, you would miss them but you had all of their numbers and you could drive now, the city is only a few hours away so you knew that you’d see them again. You had to go back, you had made a promise and you were determined to keep it. You wanted to keep it, you wanted to see him again, your first-ever real friend.

A lot has changed in the past 12 years. Hybrids have become more accepted by the overall community, of course, there are people who still hold a negative prejudice towards them but those people are few in numbers and far apart. Even your mother had changed her outlook on hybrids which you were so incredibly grateful for. “I’ll come to visit you when I can okay mom; so try not to get too lonely,” you smiled at her before pulling her into a hug. “The house is gonna be quiet without you Luv,” she replied while hugging you tightly. You said your final goodbyes to your friends before hopping into your car. One of your friend’s parents actually owned the moving company so his brother volunteered to drive the van and help you move-in some of the heavier boxes. You were grateful that he did because the only form of exercise that you partook in was jumping to conclusions; that didn’t grant you with the muscle mass that was required for this job. 

The drive back home, well to your previous home that is, was pretty peaceful. You broke the silence by listening to some of your favourite songs until you arrived.  With the distraction of music, the drive went by incredibly fast. You were now placing all of your boxes into your apartment. There were a lot of boxes; who knew that you had so much stuff, but thankfully you had some help so it didn’t take you too long.

“Thanks for all of the help,” you said, “I don’t think that I could have done all of this without you”.

“It’s cool and good luck at university,” he replied. “Don’t forget to make good choices,” he continued while pointing a joking finger at you. You laughed along with him before waving him goodbye. 

“Now I just have all of these boxes to sort out and I’ll be done,” you thought. Easier said than done. You practically spent the entire day organizing your stuff but at least now you could sleep in tomorrow. School didn’t start for another week, but you had moved in early to make sure that everything was sorted out. At least that was the excuse that you used, in reality, you just wanted some extra time to search for Yunho.

However, that task was easier said than done. You had not even the slightest idea of where to look; you didn’t know his last name, address, phone number, nothing. How on earth were you supposed to find him? Where were you even supposed to start looking? You opted to go to the local university with the hope that maybe he would be a student there but that possibility was highly unlikely. You didn't realize back then but as you grew older you finally understood why Yunho was always in that alleyway, he was abandoned. You were so nieve to the struggles that hybrids had to face on a daily basis. It was extremely difficult to parent hybrids, they had to go to separate schools than others; almost all of the schools were private schools, so if you couldn't afford it your child just wouldn't be educated. This law has since been revoked due to its unfair nature, it made education unreachable for most hybrids who could rarely afford such luxuries. You were just sorry that those changes did not happen earlier, maybe things would have been different.

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Although you had planned to sleep in, your stomach had other plans. Dragging yourself out of bed you went to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal while mentally reminding yourself to go shopping later that day. Most of your morning was occupied by organizing school stuff on your laptop to ensure that everything was finalized. It was now around lunchtime and your stomach once again reminded you that you had not bought any groceries yet. Releasing a loud sigh you grabbed your wallet and keys before heading out the front door. You hopped into your car searching for a grocery store of any kind. The place looked so different from the way that you remembered it, new buildings had replaced the old ones and so many of the places which you had enjoyed going to as a child had been closed down. “I wonder where else has been closed down?” you wondered as you took a left on a rather familiar road.

Looking through your car window you try to spot your old school, remembering the pale green walls and rusty fence which bordered it. Your facial expression sinking as you soon realized that it had gotten closed down. In its wake was a large grocery store and parking lot. You couldn't hide the disappointment on your face as you swung into the parking lot. Although you hadn’t spent very long there it held some of your sweetest memories, your memories with Yunho. Walking into the store you were immediately hit with the savoury smell of freshly baked bread. Grabbing a shopping cart you walked through the aisles collecting everything that you needed which was literally everything because this morning you had dry cereal since you hadn’t even bought milk yet.

You were almost finished with your grocery trip, only needing a few more items. Walking down the last aisle you realized that you didn't have any paper towels. Looking through the aisle you released a loud sigh as you noticed the paper towels on the top shelf. So what, do short people not use paper towels in this town? Standing on the tip of your toes you tried your best to reach them but it was to no avail, your fingertips couldn't even touch the plastic packaging. You tried again jumping slightly in an attempt to at least knock it down but still nothing.

“Do you need some help,” you heard a voice giggle from behind you.

“I don't think that it's good customer service to laugh at your customers,” you chuckled before turning around.

You were immediately greeted by two bright yellow orbs; he was a hybrid. Before you could say anything further he stretched above you, effortlessly retrieving the paper towels for you. You retreated slightly, back hitting the edge of the shelf, you felt shy due to your close proximity. You noticed a sunflower pendant hanging around his neck, the sight of which tugging at some distant memory in your mind.

“One pack of paper towels for the lovely customer,” he spoke, his voice as sweet as honey, warmth dripping off of every word that he said.

“Thank you,” you replied, blushing slightly at his compliment. Taking them from his grasp your fingertips lightly brushing against his ownYour eyes flicked to his chest, expecting to find a name tag, but to your surprise, you found nothing there.

“Yunho,” he said, his words catching you off guard.

“Yunho? It couldn’t possibly be that easy,” you thought, a shocked look covering your face as you stood frozen, staring.

“Did you need anything else Luv?” he inquired, his head tilted to the side as his ears twitched in an inquisitive nature.

How could he stand at what? 6 feet and still look like an absolute baby; a puppy. You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of your initial shock. You smiled brightly at him, your cheeks slightly pained due to the intensity of your smile, you couldn't help it; you had honestly missed him so much. 

“And here I thought that I needed to bring you cookies for you to tell me your name,” you joked, a slight smirk on your face. Now it was time for him to be shocked. You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips, his facial expression was hilarious. Was that what you looked like a few moments ago?

You opened your mouth to speak again but this action became futile as you felt the air burst from your lungs as Yunho engulfed you into a hug. His back slightly hunched as he rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against your neck. “Twelve years later and you're still a puppy huh?” you stated while tangling your hands in his hazel brown hair.

“You came back,” you heard him state; his voice sounding slightly broken as his muffled sound reached your ears. “I told you I would,” you replied before pulling away from him, your eyes immediately meeting his. They had somehow seemed to brighten throughout the years, the yellow hue seemed almost blinding.

“People lie. I thought that you were another one,” he confessed, his eyes shooting to the floor, “No one had ever really come back for me.” You couldn’t stop the shattering feeling from flooding your heart, your tightening as you looked at his golden eyes; so bright despite everything that he’d been through.

He didn't deserve that, no one deserved that; being discarded because of something that you couldn't even control. Being deceived as they waited hopefully. What kind of person would allow such a sweet individual to endure so much?  “I came back every day because I didn't know when you'd show up and I didn’t want to keep you waiting. I tried to stay as close as I could but sometimes it was really hard. But then when the grocery franchise bought the school I couldn't really show up anymore; the construction workers kept on chasing me out,” he said while scratching the back of his neck, his tail waving frantically behind him.

“I eventually got this job with the hope that I’d be able to see you again but to tell you the truth I didn't expect you to really come back for me,” he continued.

“I missed you,” he said before smiling slightly. How could someone ever leave someone as precious as him? You'd only reunited for what 5 minutes? And you couldn't even think about leaving his side.

“How could I not come back for you? You’re such a good boy,” you said while reaching up to pet his head; heat flooded your face. What were you thinking? What if he didn't like his head being patted? He was a dog hybrid but that didn’t mean that he was a dog. You quickly pulled your hand away before attempting to apologize, but your words stuck in your throat as he gently grasped your hand. Bending slightly and placing it back on his head before looking at you hopefully. He's adorable. He's absolutely precious and you knew that he wasn't a pet but that didn't stop your brain from thinking about how badly you wanted to keep him.

“Yunho I need you to help me stack the shelves on Aisle 9 please,” you heard a voice speak from a few steps away. Looking over you noticed a short black-haired man carrying a box; he was a cat hybrid, the shape of his eyes mimicking that of a cat’s as his tail hung effortlessly behind him. I thought that cats and dogs didn't get along. “I’ll be right there Young-ah,” Yunho replied.

“Okay just hurry up, I’m not missing my lunch break because you decided to flirt with the customers,” he replied; a mischievous smirk on his face. “It’s not like that,” Yunho began as the male began to walk away; from your spot near the shelf you had the perfect view of the blush that ever so slightly crept upon his face, “they’re an old friend”.

“When do you get off work,” you asked.

“Oh..um around 6 I think,” Yunho replied, his voice laced with light uncertainty as he glanced at you. 

“Okay well then I’ll pick you up at 6,” you chimed, “oh and don't have too many snacks. I'll make dinner.”

“How many cookies am I allowed to eat?” he playfully inquired while slowly exiting the aisle. “None! I'm the only one allowed to give you cookies,” you playfully replied while stomping your feet on the ground and crossing your arms. Yunho had said something back but he was too far for you to hear it properly. It was so strange; he was the same boy that you remembered from 12 years ago while simultaneously being someone completely new. You knew one thing for sure; you love that you had for him so many years ago still remained.

-------------------

“This tastes amazing Y/n!” Yunho basically yelled from across the table. You were never really one for extravagance nor were you in the habit of keeping up appearances. You had prepared burgers for dinner and by the glistening smile that plastered Yunho’s face that he enjoyed it. “Don't talk with your mouth full Yun, you'll choke,” you scolded him before reaching over to the table to whip the sauce off of the corner of his lip. He may be a dog hybrid but he eats like a pig. “Sorry,” he replied. “What did I just tell you?” you jokily asked. After you both ate Yunho insisted on helping you with the dishes before you both sat on the couch talking about nothing at all really.

“So what has Y/n been up to these days?” Yunho enquired from his spot on the couch; which was basically your lap because that was where he rested his head while you gently ran your fingers through his hair. You responded to his question; telling him about your friends back home, the major you were going to be studying in university and all of the little things you like to do in your free time. 

“My brother goes to that school,” he stated rather consistently. Brother? He has a brother? 

“Oh, I didn't know you had a brother,” you replied to his rather shocking statement.

“Well, he isn't my real brother but that doesn't really matter much. A few years after you left I got caught by the Hybrid Division of Animal Control, that was where his dad found me. They aren't hybrids but you're really great people, he's a few years older than I am so he treats me like a little brother,” he stated, “it’s nice. You should meet him some time”. You hummed at his statement as your hand continued to aimlessly play in his hair. 

You had no idea when you had fallen asleep but you were awakened by the sun shining through your bedroom windows. Releasing a loud groan you mentally punched yourself in the face for forgetting to put up curtains. Rolling out of bed you trudged your way into the living room; only for your eyes to fall on the figure of a rather comfortable sleeping hybrid. It was in moments like these that you could really see his 6-year-old self, he was rolled in a ball, mouth slightly open as he faintly snored. You tried your best to enter the kitchen as quietly as you could but he and his dumb dog hearing still heard you.

“Morning little Iris,” he sleepily said as he rubbed his tired eyes. You couldn't help but smile at his statement; 12 years and he still remembered the flower on your friendship bracelets.

“Good Morning you giant sunflower,” you replied while grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge. 

“Yeah,” he replied while aimlessly playing with the sunflower pendant around his neck; it looked like it was the same one from the bracelet you had made.

“My bracelet fell apart a few years ago. Seonghwa said it was because I never took it off,” he chuckled before continuing, “I was going to make another one but it just never felt the same. Oh umm...Seonghwa is my brother by the way,” he quickly added.

You couldn't help but smile at his words; he had kept it on all this time. Where did this incredible sense of loyalty come from? “Hey Yunho, have you ever gotten tested to find out what type of hybrid you are?” you inquired.

“I’m a dog hybrid...duh,” he stated before laughing at your question.

“I mean what breed of dog Mr Know it All,” you replied while pointing a teasing finger at him.

His face looked slightly confused at your out of the blue question but he replied none the less. “No. My dad said that we didn't need to because he already had a pretty good idea. But he never told me so…” he replied before shrugging and plopping himself back down on the couch.

“Yeah, I can see that happening,” you chimed in while walking towards him to play with the tip of his ears. He welcomed the interaction; pulling you to sit on the couch with him.

“What does that even mean?” he groaned playfully while placing his head on your shoulder. His body basically engulfed your but you didn't mind it at all, you felt safe in his arms.

“Isn't it obvious?” you questioned, but when Yunho simply shook his head against your neck you realized that he was completely oblivious to his breed.

“You're a Golden retriever you dummy,” you continued before giggling slightly as his hot breath fanned your neck.

You stayed like this for a while before you decided that it was about time that you had breakfast; Yunho, however, seemed to have another plan. As you tried to get up he just gripped you tighter, sandwiching you between his body and the arm of your couch. “Yunho I need to eat,” you informed him.

“You can eat later,” he whined into your ear causing goosebumps to awaken across your body. 

“Yunho,” you whimpered as he pulled you even closer to him, your body fully pressed against his own. Your arms subconsciously gripped onto the back of his t-shirt, nails slightly digging into his back. You had only just become aware of how increasingly hot you felt. Was it always that hot in your apartment or was it Yunho? Were hybrids supposed to be that warm? You weren't sure and you would have tried to ask Yunho but he was either not hearing you or completely ignoring you. You tried slightly tugging at his ears but even that seemed useless.

Since playing with his ears haven't worked you opted to target his tail next. What was the harm in that right? Using the limited mobility that you had left you placed your hand at the base of Yunho’s tail before gently tugging at it. Yunho released a muffled moan before an airy whimper, his ears slumped down against his head as he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck. You could feel his plush lips press against your pulse. “Yunho?” you calling to him one more time, your voice quivering slightly. You placed a tentative hand on his head before gently tugging at his hair. That seemed to have done it; Yunho all but flew out of your grasp. His face was flushed, breathing laboured and his pupils dilated; looking into them you could only spot the slightest hint of his yellow eyes. “Are you ok-” you began to ask before he interrupted you. “I forgot that I have an early shift today. But I’ll stop by sometime during the week okay,” he sped through his words before he practically sprinted out of your apartment.

What the hell just happened?

[tuffin-tuffmuffin]

Having a blast with XCOM Chimera Squad. flash fic to get me back into the XCOM writing groove, especially with this new world to play with.

------

Chimera Squad: Hell on Earth

words: 1082

------

  The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

  But how could Whisper have known the first step would be a well-intentioned joke?

  The day Whisper would later realize he had doomed himself, the Mission Control Officer went to bed with a smile on his face. The moment occurred just a few hours before, as Chimera Squad relocated yet again to what would hopefully be their permanent HQ. 

  Whisper was loading in a smaller, fragile case, when Cherub stepped up to the ramp, holding a box so wide it could barely squeeze through the semi truck’s doors. For a moment or two, he was trapped before Cherub realized standing sideways was an option, yet the hybrid apologized like has confessing to murder.

  Whisper simply laughed it off, joking, “It’s alright, Cherub. Just feeling a bit boxed in. Heh.”

  “But you are free to go? And why are you laughing?”

  “It’s... it’s a pun, Cherub. A play on words.”

  “What is a ‘pun?’”

  So, Whisper took five, sat Cherub down, and went over the concept of homonyms, expectations and subversions, and everything that would thoroughly explain the inherent humor of a good pun. To his then-joy, Cherub proved an eager convert, smiling and laughing and attempting his own in just a few minutes. 

  “I see what you mean, with my Hybrid-eyes? Ah? Get it? Huh?” 

  He looked so damn ecstatic, Whisper laughed along, vowing to teach the young soldier the nuances of timing and context later.

  And so, Whisper’s embarked on his unintentional descent into hell. It started slowly, a pun here, another pun there. Cherub would pretend not to hear him approaching, so he could pretend to be surprised and say “he moves like a Whisper!” He would make an ‘X’ from masking tape and leave his radio on top of it, telling the beleaguered support staff that “It’s X-Comm!” When Cherub chided an unimpressed Director Kelly for shamelessly “mugging” him when she offered a coffee, Whisper started to realize something might be wrong, yet failed to act.

  When she arrived though, Whisper’s descent became a free-fall.

  He never quite knew why Torque hated him so much. He knew Viper actually held most people in contempt, but it wasn’t personal and she usually pretended to tolerate them. Not him, though, and he could only guess why. Sure, he was the Training Center’s comms operator where Torque helped train XCOM rookies, but even then, Director Kelly was her direct superior and they got along fine. Whisper thought he explained gently and sufficiently why Torque needed her cranial control chip removed, how it was deadweight and the process had been refined months ago and wouldn’t change her personality, yet she always insisted this messenger was personally ‘lobotomizing her’ and demanded payback. In his mind, Whisper decided that Torque needed someone to pin her frustrations on for picking the losing side, and unfortunately she chose him.

  And Director Kelly personally chose both of them, stuck them in a cramped warehouse, and demanded they either like it or shut up.

  Between Whisper and Torque, it was Cherub who suffered the Viper’s attitude the most. He never, ever stopped trying to be everyone’s friend, but Torque was the only agent who actively resisted him. No matter the respect he showed, the gifts he offered on his limited salary, the legitimately funny puns he tried on her, she always put a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes.

  Yet, the dismissiveness only made the plucky hybrid try even harder. More free meals. More jokes. 

  God, so many puns.

  But he couldn’t break the little Cherub’s heart. 

  So Whisper grit his teeth, grinned and bore it. Unfortunately, Torque noticed.

  He realized the nightmare only months after they settled in, on Earth Day. What was once a minor holiday about ecological preservation, post-Liberation society retooled it into a celebration of everything Earth, second only in observance to Liberation Day. A bit of every holiday into one, and aliens were explicitly invited to better integrate themselves, and Torque explicitly uninvited herself from previous years’ parties.

  Yet, here the Viper was, at the Headquarters’ modest celebration, approaching Whisper with a wrapped gift in her four-fingered hands. 

  Whisper didn’t like the way she smiled. He was lucky enough to see a genuine Viper smile from the first Viper to join XCOM, back before the war even ended. He never forgot that sight, and Torque’s smile looked nothing like it, barely concealing the sassy venom just behind her lips.

  “Torque...” He greeted, putting aside his reservations for a moment. “Didn’t expect to see you here. And with a gift, too. If I recall correctly, you didn’t get me anything last year. Or... the last two years before that.”

  “I know, right?” Torque responded cheerfully. “Hope you’re ready for round four!”

  Whisper sighed. Bearing a gift to a party and simply refusing to give it to anyone would be a perfectly Torque maneuver, in his mind. Unfortunately, he underestimated her.

  “This isn’t for you, ya dingus!” She giggled. “Hey, Cherub!”

“Yes, Torque?”

  The Viper waved him over, much to Whisper’s confusion, and she bobbed with such excitement that Cherub failed to notice was as fake as the Elders’ divinity. Torque bluntly asked, “Cherub, remember when I said I hated your puns and that you should shut up forever?”

  He tapped his chin in thought. “Yeah, you did tell me that. Many, many times, too.”

  “Changed my mind. I love them now. So much...”

  Torque turned, locking her eyes with Whispers with an intense, seething disdain. A sense of dread fell over him, as she continued to address Cherub, “... so much that I found this, especially for you!”

  “Really? That’s so nice! What is it?”

  She never took her eyes off Whisper as Cherub took the package, tore through the wrapping paper, and gasped in excitement. “The Ultimate Dad’s Pun Book: Over 10,000 Laugh Out Loud Jokes, 2014 Edition! Torque, this is amazing! Thank you!”

  Whisper whispered, “Oh no.”  

  Cherub shot forward to hug her, and unlike every other attempt before, the Viper simply accepted it with a grin. She ignored the cheerful Cherub, A perverse joy lurked behind her eyes as she watched the happiness drain from Whisper’s face, misery quick to fill the void. That grin of hers, that devilish grin, covered the entirety of her face. 

  The Viper didn’t utter a sound, but her eyes said See you in Hell, you bastard. 

  And she did, because Hell just came to Earth.

------

Gosh, having so much fun. Cherub is so precious, and Torque is just so damn sassy, I love them.

I also wanted to reassure everyone I’ve still got XCOM, gonna give it to ya when it’s ready. There’s a lot of new lore and canon to take in, so I need to digest it a bit more as I plan my previous work’s continuation. by the power of snek, I will continue.

[redbeanboi]

same anon for mista and i love your hcs! 💖 is it ok if i ask again but this time with him pining after you for so long and just wants to be out with it and sweep you off your feet and call you his if thats alright?

AHHH!!! I love pining. And I think Mista would be such a sweet sweet doofus in love so I have fun imagining these kinds of things for him. I’m going to do a hybrid between a fanfic and an hc post, so expect like… a story, but in bullet form??? hopefully that makes sense (and hopefully this is ok!!). Here’s some Mista pining for the longest time ever… FT. the members of the Bucci gang (and Trish), who collectively decide to meddle a bit so you can just start going out already.

absolutel y LOVIng the enthusiasm for our italian marksman,,,, so if you like this ask for more Mista because writing him is actually really fun for me

also i purposely made my grammar and spelling and my voice and such very silly for this thing so please excuse that. i’m having some fun too

**mostly written from Mista’s POV**

wordcount: 3.0k

sO

it’s been a few years now that Giorno’s been the boss

and you joined the gang a couple years ago

haven’t really climbed up the ranks, but!! Bucciarati took notice of your good work and so did Giorno

so you were assigned to work with Bucci’s team

and you’ve been there for the past year and a half

and for the past year or so, mista has had the fattest crush on you

narancia and trish took an immediate liking to you when bruno introduced you

so they introduced you to mista

anyway it’s just

so easy to fall in love with you

you’ve got the heartiest and dorkiest laugh he’s ever heard and he loves it

face of an angel 

loves how you know when to crack a joke and when to get serious

beautiful lips!!! pretty and soft looking and he just wants to kiss you!!

ahem–

right

beautiful eyes!! he has no idea how many times he’s gotten lost in them, but he’s stared at them pretty often

very very intelligent, always seen with a book when the team has downtime

mista reads a lot too, but he’s been picking up more books now that he’s seen you read

that way he can do something together with you

sometimes you’ll recommend books to him

he THOUGHT he would hate the philosophy book you recommended to him

he hates philosophy and hates overthinking anything

but it turns out, the course of love was right up his alley like you suggested

and now mista is more convinced than ever that you’re his soulmate

he’s like

dead sure

100%

you’re perfect to him

sweet, funny, caring–the entire package

unfortunately guido’s convinced that you’re wayy out of his league

usually he’ll ask someone out regardless

the possibility of being shot down never scared him before

“ya win some ya lose some”

thaT used to be his mindset

but with you?!! no

he’s definitely not risking that

he’s already got something pretty good going on with you

doesn’t want to wreck the current relationship you have with each other

you’re friends and you have fun with each other

it’s basically perfect!!

except

mista obviously wants a little more than that

kisses and cuddles and maybe some other stuff too if you’re up to it

but what if you don’t want that??

and if he asks you out or tells you how he really feels

what happens???

if you say no, what’ll happen to your friendship after that??

god now he’s overthinking everything again!!

anyway it’s valentine’s day

and the entire team celebrates together because none of you have any plans

and you’re all just hanging around giorno’s big fancy house in the posillipo district of napoli

everyone’s just lounging around one of the sitting rooms when mista gets up and excuses himself to get a drink from the kitchen

Trish notices he’s been in the kitchen for way too long tho (and isolating yourself from the rest of the company is NOT party behavior)

so she goes there, sees Mista feeding the Sex Pistols a bunch of snacks and decides to take action

“Mista”

“mhm” Mista feeds number 5 another chip, looks up at trish and then goes back to feeding his babies again

final straw for trish

“oh look it’s y/n” trish points over his shoulder and mista immediaTELY scrambles around the counter and starts to stutter “I was just joking, calm down”

at least he’s snapped out of it

“don’t make jokes like that!!” mista huffs and smooths his sweater down before like, triple checking to make sure you’re not actually within earshot

“what’s the matter with you? you always get so jumpy when someone mentions y/n” she starts wagging her finger at him. “is it because you think y/n’s cute?? or is it because you have a crush on--”

“i don’t–i don’T have a crush on y/n!!” he starts digging around giorno’s fridge for a drink and just settles on cracking open a peroni

yes, mista

drink some beer

that will totally solve your problems

anyway he does like you

the thing is

he’s not sure if you like him back

and usually he’s ok with people knowing if he has a crush on someone

but now that it’s you he wants to keep it to himself

he’s always considered bucciarati, abbacchio, narancia, fugo, giorno and trish like family, but he’s not about to admit he has a crush on you

because he knows 100% that they’ll all tease him, 

((ok maybe not giorno so much, but guido definitely wouldn’t put it past the other five))

he’s just not about that lifestyle

especially because narancia and trish would definitely end up letting it slip to you

and he can’t have that

no sir

when someone even slightly suggests that what mista feels for you is more than just plain old friendship he just goes pffFFfffTT me? no. no crush. i don’t do dating. or crushing. too busy for that crap

but like

cmon

everYONE knows

it’s pretty damn obvious he has a crush on you

always being the first to volunteer to get paired up with you on missions

always the first to shoo away any creep who tries to flirt with you

also he definitely throws longing glances at you whenever you’re not looking

has stared at your lips

and bruno’s caught him doing that MORE than once

((seven times now, if you must know. bruno’s been counting))

“are you going to talk to y/n tonight?” trish asks, nudging him. “neither of you have said a word to each other” 

mista’s cheeks flare up immediately

now everyone knows you’re single

even mista

it’s the only reason why he’s letting himself daydream about you

but just the thought of asking you out makes him want to piss himself

he’s part of a gang, yes

he’s also part of bucciarati’s team

he’s been through life or death scenarios

he’s been at death’s doorstep more times than you can probably count

he has a place among these hardened criminals

but you just make him SO so nervous

he can’t look at you straight in the eye for more than three seconds before he starts blushing and looking away

and either you’re too dumb to notice or he’s just so so out of your radar that you ignore all his obvious feelings

“was wondering where you guys went” narancia came to get a drink too, cracks open a beer too and sits on the counter. “what’re we talking about”

“we’re talking about how much mista loves y/n”

“oh i love talking about that–wait” narancia coughs on his beer.

mista knows EXACTLY where this is going. “don’t–”

“you and–” narancia claps a hand over his mouth and starts laughing “i KNEW IT”

and soon enough everybody else (minus you) has joined them in the kitchen

everyone’s teasing mista about you (minus giorno, who’s just shaking his head), narancia’s making kissy noises

abbacchio keeps making these “just ask her out already, you idiot”

Bruno is saying “you’ll never know what happens if you don’t say anything, and we all know you want to say something–”

fugo is telling him “if you don’t take your shot now, you might not get your chance”

mista wants to SCREECH

“shut up! what if y/n hears you idiots”

and fugo goes “has anyone else noticed that thing that mista does, where he feeds y/n a bite of his food ALL the time, but he never does it with us unless we ask”

“or the one time mista took a bullet for y/n”

“or that one time he broke y/n’s umbrella so they’d HAVE to share his umbrella”

“it was broken, idiots! that’s why I shared mine”

“mmmmhm sure it was”

and fugo nudges mista a little too hard and mista spills beer on himself

“fuck you guys” and mista grumbles and shoves past them to go to the bathroom upstairs

everyone exchanges glances

giorno just jams his thumb into his temple and sighs. “how have they not gotten together yet?”

literally everyone in that room has actively tried to push you two together

none of it has worked, obviously

 you aren’t making a move

neither has mista

you two are adults but you’re acting like teenagers

except most teenagers prob would’ve acted on their feelings now

and just two minutes after, you stroll into the kitchen super grumpy

“why did everyone ditch me in the sitting room?”

“oh we were just talking about you” bruno hums and pops a biscotto into his mouth

“yeah? what about?”

“talking about how wimpy you and mist–MmmP” Abbacchio claps a hand over Narancia’s mouth before he finishes

“want anything to drink?” fugo asks. his eyes are darting around like crazy and you think its  s u s p i c i o u s !!!

“it’s alright I’ll get something later”

giorno wants to conduct a little experiment

mista doesn’t want to talk about his feelings for you

and you haven’t said anything really, but he has a feeling you’re not going to deny any of this 

“oh, there you are mista”

and immediately you just duck under the counter behind giorno and start fixing yourself–hair, shirt, EVERYTHING

giorno just stares at you

so do the others

god its official–you and mista were made for each other

“god help me,” abbacchio gives you a hand. “what’s up with you? slip on a wet patch or something?”

you glare at all of them. “Why the hell did you do that?” 

giorno smiles. you’re all pretty familiar with each other so cussing and acting a little friendly isn’t an issue.

but now bruno wants to go upstairs and dunk mista’s head into some water and tell him to just ask you out already

it’s so infuriating for them

everyone knows how much you like each other

everyone

everyone except you and mista anyway

and you’ve liked mista for almost the same amount of time he’s liked you

it’s not your fault!!!

Mista is beautiful

the most beautiful face in the world!!! and the body of a greek god

sculpted like some fancy statue

he’s sweet, can be very polite

does his job so well

smart

best, dreamiest smile you’ve ever seen

great taste in food

the best person to talk to–never too serious, but you always know he’s listening

always super super protective and considerate towards civilians and is TOTALLY against getting normal people wrapped up into their fights and work

and he’s so perfect

also not to be a pig, but you can definitely appreciate what a great ass he has

“you like mista, don’t you?” trish asks

you shrugged. “so what if I do? lots of people like mista”

“but you LIKE like him”

you’re not going to flat out deny it

otherwise giorno might take it as “oh y/n doesn’t want to be paired up with mista anymore for missions, so blah blah blah”

and nope, can’t have that

you can at least tell your new friends about your feelings

not that you’ll act out on them of course

and you’re shy about it still so you’re not going to even tHINK about telling mista

it’s fine you can just read books next to him forever

and then just watch when he finally finds someone he likes and goes out with them instead

ouch

speaking of mista

where is he

“so,… where’s mista?”

“he’s in the bathroom, but he’ll be coming down soon” fugo just points to the staircase

giorno just adds “i was thinking of taking us all out for dinner too”

so half an hour later you’re at libeccio

which is great, service and food are sublime

except you’re seated across the table from mista

and he’s not looking at you

so you just decide to talk to abbacchio and bruno since mista’s ignoring you

and mista gets a little nervous and sees how you’re talking away with abbacchio

and fair enough, abbacchio’s a great guy to talk to once he’s warmed up to you

and he’s smart and good looking

and mista’s convinced that maybe you’re just into older guys!! and bad boys!!

abbacchio’s got that aesthetic nailed down

mista starts wondering if he can pull it off

and he looks at abbacchio’s get up and gets pretty depressed

yeah, that’s not happening

you’d definitely make fun of him if you caught him dressing up like abbacchio

and he kinda stares into the bottle of mineral water on the table and spaces out

fuck this he’ll just pretend he’s on a date with you and zone everyone else out

and all of a sudden giorno looks at his watch and gets up from his seat

“I’m sorry, it looks like I’m going to have to leave early–I forgot about an appointment I was supposed to have”

mista looks confused

so do you

everyone else though is like “yeah that makes total sense giorno”

and you’re looking at them all like ??? “It’s night time”

and Bruno, the underboss gets up too

“I should probably go with you actually,”

and then Abbacchio quirks a brow…. and then a couple of seconds later sighs and adds “actually I think I have to go home and water some plants”

and you’re getting annoyed at this point “I thought you guys wanted to celebrate valentine’s day together!! I could’ve stayed home and watched movies or something tonight, jerks”

and then fugo leaves because he’s suddenly got some errands to do

and narancia and trish leave when they realize they’ve “suddenly got mani-pedi appointments” even though…. all the salons are closed at this hour

and you’re PISSED

mista stays behind though, and you’re actually really really happy about that

“thank god, at least I have you, right?”

and mista just laughs nervously

“yeah,,, I’m here for you”

and he WANTS TO SCREECH

but thankfully you just smile and clap your hands excitedly and lean over and share a menu with him

“ok !! let’s order some really expensive food and have them send the bill to the almighty ‘Don Giorno,’ huh???” and mista’s heart melts because

that is such a a brilliant idea

god you’re perfect

“yeah let’s do that,” and he just kinda basks in the proximity and lets himself get comfortable

and you both order some really tasty stuff!!!

affetati misti and burrata affumicata for appetizer (the pistols love it), risotto al pescatore and spaghetti alla carbonara for the first course, gamberoni alla griglia and filetto alla brace for the second course

and then you guys leave libeccio and find some gelateria

and you’re not really up for getting your own gelato because you’re so stuffed

but mista’s still a little hungry

and after that he offers to walk you home

the weather’s pretty nice anyway so you’re like “!! yes that sounds perfect”

and then halfway thru you ask if you can try some of his gelato and he’s like

“yeah,,, totally fine haha”

and he’s NOT screaming when you start helping yourself to his hazelnut gelato

and he kinda gestures at your mouth when some of it gets plastered to the corner of your lip

and you’re about to wipe it off yourself when he swipes his thumb around your lip

and he just kinda looks away and mutters “yeah, all good now”

the rest of the walk is super silent

so silent

not that either of you mind really

and then suddenly you’re at your apartment

and you’re about to say bye to mista

and it’s just you two and no one’s around and it’s Valentine’s Day so

why not give him a hug

so you lean in to give him a hug and mista’s like thinking ok this is happening and i am actually very fine with this

and he just kinda meets you halfway and hugs you

except he trips and all his weight kinda pushes you up against the door to you apartment

and it takes you a good minute to realize that

you’re kissing him

mista’s lips

your lips

and you wanted it to happen, yes but 

oh no now everything’s RUINED

and mista just scrambles away when he realizes what he’s done and bows his head

and all of a sudden he’s babbling a bunch of nonsense and he’s so nervous

oh god it’s ruined

everything’s ruined

and he’s just moving his hands around and talking way too fast

and he’s so so full of remorse

and he tries to like lay a hand on your shoulder or like hold your hand or something but you’re staring at him like he’s grown five EXTRA heads

and maybe they’re all very attractive heads because he swears you’re blinking and babbling and looking away bashfully

and it’s so cute but he fucked up

he fucked up real bad

this is all his fault

“oh god, i’m so sorry” and he’s speaking so quickly. “please don’t leave. or you can i guess, i messed up–”

and you’re really confused because??? you thought he like flinched away because he DIDN’T like you

“i don’t understand what you’re saying mista–”

“it’s fine ! don’t worry about me, just–” he’s like shaking his head because he already messed up by kissing you, he doesn’t want to say something stupid “please just tell me what you want me to do? I know I fucked up”

and you’re just staring at him and he wants to be swallowed up by the ground right about now

“do you want me to leave you alone? i can ask giorno to transfer you to another team or something, please just–”

“I didn’t mind it”

mista just stops talking and looks at you … what

“I… actually liked it”

and he’s blinking

this can’t be real

you’re way way wayy out of his league

does this mean

“this is probably the worst time to say it, but I like you”

mista’s silent now

and then you have to swat him in the shoulder

“I said that i like you, you idiot”

and mista just gets this cheesey smile on his face and starts repeating it “you like me?? really???”

“i said it twice now, mista” and you’re just standing in front of him, hands on your hips. “at least say something back or-or SOMETHING”

and he does

he says everything

he just lets it all out

he’s liked you ever since he met you

he thought you were pretty cool already at first

and then he just got the biggest crush on you the more he got to know you

and basically

“do you…. want to keep doing this?? dinner and stuff”

and you nod so much your head might fall of your shoulders

and yes

it’s official

guido mista is now your boyfriend

unreal

and 

when you guys come to work the next day and are chatting up a storm and mista just leans on you and has this big goofy grin on his face

everyone’s watching and noticing

and bruno just smiles and shakes his head 

and you’re just glowing!! and smiling ear to ear

abbacchio just goes

“took you guys long enough”

ok but

im so sorry this was long--

but i love mista he’s my son and i want him to be in LOVE!!!!

best boy in the world, point blank.

fr though guys, if you want more fic/hc hybrids like this

let me know…. this was actually really fun and like

super stress free,,,, no pressure at all,,,, just all fun and laughs!!!

sidenote: that book i linked, “the course of love” is actually a very good book…. and if you’re a total romantic or just love the idea of love… then I highly recommend that you read it. i know mista would love it.

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Better Living Through Surgery: Life with Less Cancer!

[Originally posted August 13, 2020]

Hello from Penn Hospital!

Not to worry - I haven't been here the entire time since my last post, although I did end up spending an entire week in the hospital. Right now I'm sitting in the outdoor section of the cafeteria, which might be a mistake given that I'm not allowed to eat anything until after my CT scans at 1pm. The CT scans are part of my preparing to resume treatment for the rest of the cancer that's still in my body. The last time I had chemo was June 23rd and I've now hit the sweet spot of being a month past my mastectomy (so, mostly recovered) and out of other treatment long enough that I'm not suffering side effects any longer. It feels...almost like I don't have cancer at all.

Two Surgeries for the Price of...Two!

Let me back up a bit to the surgery though. I'd like to report that everything went totally smoothly...and it sort of did! Except that I had to have two surgeries because it also sort of didn't. As usual, what happened to me was super rare (less than 1% of cases!) and I would like to submit a formal retraction of any wishes I had to be exceptional. I've read "The Monkey's Paw." I know to be careful what I wish for. (Although, actually, I'm lying because I still plan to be the exception to the median life expectancy of those with my particular type and stage of cancer. If I have to be in the 1% of cancer cases it ought to be a good thing at least once.)

I had two surgeons for the two parts of my first surgery: one for the mastectomy (removing that incredibly stubborn initial tumor) and one for a "flap reconstruction," which used my own tissue (from my stomach - free tummy tuck!) to build a replacement. When they do that second part, they also take a blood supply so that a substantial part of it is vascular surgery. The reason that the reconstruction ever fails is if something goes wrong with the blood supply. If that happens, it's nearly always (99% of the time!) within 24 hours. What happened in my case was that everything went well with the surgery, even though it took about 7 hours, and I was recovering well and quickly. I was set to go home after my third night in the hospital (so, on Thursday).

Overnight on Wednesday, however, something went wrong with the blood supply. The new tissue was filling but not draining. What they later learned, once they rushed me back into the OR, was that the vein in it had a blood clot. They were able to fix it by taking a vein from my ankle to replace it. So basically that reset the clock on my recovery so that I ended up having to stay an additional three nights, going home on Sunday. (My initial surgery had been on a Monday.) It's actually extremely lucky that I was still in the hospital, despite how sad I was at having to stay. If I had been at home, far away from experts and surgeons, the tissue probably would have died and the reconstruction would have failed. It was a close thing since I was set to go home.

Anyone who has ever been in a hospital doesn't need a reminder of how, despite everyone's best intentions it is pretty terrible. I hadn't spent a night in the hospital since I was a newborn, despite all my various treatments, so I didn't know. Now I do and I never want to go back. The hardest part is that they have to wake you up almost constantly for vitals and to assess how the blood supply is doing (listening for arterial and venus sounds). For the first day after each surgery this was every 30 MINUTES, then every HOUR, then finally (on my final night) every 2 hours. And I'm the kind of person who's AWAKE as soon as I wake up. So I essentially didn't sleep more than an hour at a time until the bitter end when a nice nurse got a nice doctor to give me some kind of sedative so that I was able to sleep through the checks. I don't have a kid, so let me just say that this level of sleep deprivation was like nothing I had ever experienced. I see why the CIA used it as a form of torture. I'm a veteran of being tired and of many different kinds of fatigue but never have I been unable to get into REM sleep for so long. I am eager to avoid it at all costs again.

I had been more worried about the boredom than the lack of rest (because, at least on paper, the hospital seems like a place where you would mostly be resting/recovering) and it was indeed very boring. I was SO tired that I wasn't able to really do anything like read a novel, knit, or even really watch TV. I did binge a few podcasts, return to some more "Buffy," and attempt to chat to my parents when they could be there. The COVID visitor policy made it even more isolating and lonely than it would usually be. I was only allowed one "designated visitor" per day so my mom and dad switched off on who that was. Visitors could only be in the room and, once you left, you were gone for the day. So, for example, it's not like my mom could say hi in the morning, pop out and get us lunch, and then come back. All visiting was consolidated for the day. That meant that I tried valiantly to be good company for a few hours, but I imagine mostly I was too exhausted to accomplish that.

I took laps around the hallway (in my mask), which was actually a big achievement especially given the four surgical drains that I had (and left the hospital with). It's amazing how quickly you can lose conditioning in your muscles...and also how exhausting it is for your body to have been, essentially, assaulted and be dealing with wounds. That said, I've been super impressed by my body's healing capacity. I got the drains out within a week for one set and 10 days for another. After that, it was much easier to feel like I was healing and returning to normal. I'll have to rebuild my abdominal muscles, since that part of the surgery involved cutting them (and a new hip-to-hip "smile" scar), and for now I still can't bend all the way over, stand up totally straight (did I ever?), or lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk (because of the reconstruction). I'll probably need some physical therapy, but the ability my body has shown to heal is incredible.

Also incredible is the difference it has made to my mood and anxiety. In the hospital, they kept asking me for my pain number (which is kind of a useless exercise anyway, in my opinion) and I kept sort of shrugging and saying "2? 3?" to their disbelief. After all, I had open wounds! I had two major surgeries! But the pain of the tumor itself (and especially of the fluid-filled cyst on top of it) had been constant, increasing, and worrying. The pain of the tumor had meant my treatment was failing me and that my cancer was getting worse. The pain of the surgery meant I was healing so I embraced it. I still get tired more easily than I expect and am sure that the recovery period for this is going to turn out to be longer than I anticipate. But it is a huge relief.

That Bastard Tumor

Now, sadly, they don't actually save your cancerous tumor for you to look at after the surgery. (Honestly sad about this. I wanted to look it in the eye!) But they did send it off to a pathologist. The results made me feel very vindicated in my persistent sense that something about this bastard of a tumor was just DIFFERENT (and worse). They found that it had areas in it that were metaplastic, meaning (essentially) that the cells are hybrid, aggressive, and chemo-resistant. Here's what Johns Hopkins has to say about it:

"Metaplastic breast cancer is a rare form of breast cancer, accounting for fewer than 1% of all breast cancers.  It differs from the more common kinds of breast cancer in both its makeup and in the way it behaves.

Like invasive ductal cancer, metaplastic breast cancer begins in the milk duct of the breast before spreading to the tissue around the duct.  What makes a metaplastic tumor different is the kinds of cells that make up the tumor.

When the cells of an invasive ductal tumor are examined under a microscope, they appear abnormal, but still look like ductal cells.  Metaplastic tumors may contain some of these breast cells, too, but they also contain cells that look like the soft tissue and connective tissue in the breast.  It is thought that the ductal cells have undergone a change in form (metaplasia) to become completely different cells, though it is not known exactly how or why this occurs.

Metaplastic breast cancers can also behave more aggressively than other kinds of breast cancers.

Metaplastic tumors are often, though not always, “triple-negative”, which means that they test negative for estrogen and progesterone receptors, as well as for the HER2/neu protein.

Metaplastic tumor cells are often found to be high grade, which means that they look very different from normal cells and are dividing rapidly.  

Metaplastic tumors are, on average, larger at diagnosis.

More often than in other kinds of breast cancer, women with metaplastic breast cancer can have metastasis (when the cancer has spread beyond the breast) and may be more likely to recur (come back later in another part of the body)."

Sounds familiar, right? I can tell you, it feels good to get that out of my body! I want to be clear, though, that it was only **some** of the tumor that was this nasty metaplastic cancer. It was, as I described it to the amusement of my surgeon, "like chocolate chips in ice cream." (Way less fun than chocolate chips, obviously.)

That is actually good news too, because it means that there's a pretty high chance that the metastatic sites are NOT this nasty form of cancer. It wasn't noted in the original biopsy back in January 2019, nor in the spinal tumor biopsy in Feburary 2019, nor in my biopsy from July 2019. Metaplastic cells are fairly distinctive so they would have been noted if they were there. At some point, metaplastic regions appeared in the bastard tumor, probably a reason that it stopped responding to treatments that worked elsewhere (including PARP inhibitors and the chemo/immuno combo that I'm currently on). If those treatments, or others, can work on the remaining sites that are NOT metaplastic it becomes much more possible to imagine living with this as a chronic disease. We won't be able to tell until I get today's scans and we see how the next 8ish weeks of treatment go. But still, I think cautious optimism is warranted.

Resting and Recovering

My parents were able to stay with me for another 10 days after I went home and it was so wonderful to have them taking care of me. It made me realize that, actually, I have done the bulk of this cancer treatment without that particular kind of support. I mean, I knew that intellectually, but the difference between having someone looking after me and not was something I almost couldn't fathom on an emotional level. They lived with me for the first 3 months after my diagnosis in 2019 but--thanks to how long was spent getting various tests and seeing doctors--that only included a few weeks of chemo. They would obviously have stayed longer--would be glad to drop everything and rush out whenever I want!--but it's been my choice to continue as much as I can with my "regular" adult life. Being forced not to try was actually quite a favor to me. I'm left with a lot of thoughts about how I ask for help, offer it, accept it (or don't), and how I feel about it. I'll save those for another time, though, and just thank both my parents and my wonderful and tireless group of friends for giving me their support in whatever ways they can.

It's almost time for me to go drink some delicious barium and get a CT (bringing me a couple steps closer to lunch), so I'll just conclude by saying that I felt so good post-surgery that I forgot, for a while, that I still had cancer at all. After all, it was that tumor that I could actually see and feel and that was causing me daily pain and anxiety. Taking it away felt like taking away all the cancer. But, of course, it's still there: in my lungs, my lymph nodes, my bones, and my liver. It's a systemic and chronic disease, but I do at least feel more like I've been given a fighting chance again.

Hope you're all doing as well as can be right now. Be well and be kind.

Love, Bex

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (11/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,434

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, mentions of sterilization

masterlist

a/n: This is kind of a filler chapter, setting up phase two of the series and all that.  Let me know what y’all think!

“I think we should have a family dinner.”

The silence that overcame the kitchen was heavy, each of you stopping in your tracks to stare at the man who’d dared to break the quiet morning reverie.  Rhodey was standing at the counter, having passed Wanda milk for her cereal.  You were sipping at your coffee, tucked into the corner created by the counter and the fridge.

“What?” Pepper looked intrigued, though not fully on board.  She already had several papers spread out in front of her.  Despite having caught up on most things needed to bring Stark Industries back, there were little things that slipped through the cracks that needed to be taken care of, especially since she was now the owner.

Rhodey cleared his throat as he took in the various stares.  “We spent years apart.  I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t ever want to go through that bullshit—”

“Hey!” Bucky said, scowling at him as he covered up Morgan’s ears.  She was curled up in his lap, happily munching on chocolate chip pancakes.  “Little ones are present.”

“Fine!  Crap, okay?” The man seemed a little irritated by the interruption, but at the same time, he knew the other man was right.  They couldn’t just cuss freely anymore, even though the little girl had definitely picked up a few words from her father.  Rhodey took in a deep breath, his hands gripping the counter.  “I don’t want us to be a group of people who happen to save the world together.  I want us to be a real family.”

Your heart constricted at his words, warmth spreading through your veins.  Even though you were close with most of the team, he was right.  There had been little cliques within the Avengers even before the Accords had officially ripped you all apart.  “I agree,” you said, drawing the rest of the group’s attention.

“Okay,” Sam said.  He was still sweaty from his morning workout.  “Family dinner.  When?”

“Once a week.  We pick a specific night that we keep clear so we can all eat together,” Rhodey said, seeming a little lighter than he had been.  As though he’d been afraid you all would tell him no.

As if you ever could.

“No takeout.  Please.”  She raised her eyebrows at the incredulous stares she was getting, her face lifted in a soft smile.  “I love you all very much, but I think I’d rather starve than eat Chinese takeout one more time.”

Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he said, “What about Friday nights?”

Seeing the scientist as a strange hybrid of both himself and the Hulk was a little strange still.  He hadn’t come out of his private lab much since all of you got to the new compound, choosing instead to throw himself into his work.

Losing Natasha had been hard on him, too.

And you knew that you could help each other, if either of you would just bring it up. You’d seen how much they cared about each other before he’d disappeared after everything with Ultron happened.

You bit your lip as you walked down the hall, toweling your freshly washed hair.

“—the Red Room, where I was trained…  where I was raised, um…  They have a graduation ceremony.  They sterilize you.”

You froze in place, hearing Natasha’s voice drifting from the room her and Bruce were sharing.  It was right next the one you and Steve were occupying for your stay at Casa Barton.  She rarely talked about the Red Room, and only with you, because you knew.  You’d lived through it.

Even the graduation ceremony.

Hell, you’d gone through it just about a week and a half before the redhead had rescued you.  A little earlier than other girls, but there’d been whispers of HYDRA taking you off the Red Rooms hands.

Just knowing that Natasha was talking about the Red Room with Bruce said a lot about how she felt about him.  She’d been dodging your questions for months now, insisting there was nothing between them.

“It’s efficient.  One less thing to worry about.  The one thing that might matter more than a mission.”  You could see the pain etched into Natasha’s face in your mind. You’d seen the way her pretty features twisted up in a grimace anytime either of you brought it up.  “It makes everything easier.  Even killing,” she said, before pausing.  “You still think you’re the only monster on the team?”

And as much as you hated to agree with her sentiment, you agreed.  And for a few months after she rescued you, you thought that maybe you’d grow to not hate yourself so much for it.  But, now, a year later, you still saw yourself as a horrible creature.  A killing machine.  Hell, Nat was the strongest woman in the world, and she loathed herself for what they did to her—who were you to think any better of yourself?

You hadn’t even told Steve.  Granted, you’d only been together for about two months or so, but still.  It was because you were ashamed.  Because he was raised in the time when all any man wanted as a wife and two and a half kids.

“What?  So we disappear?” Bruce asked, and your heart caught in your throat.

Was Natasha planning on leaving the Avengers?

“Not unless we can bring Y/N,” she said, and you let a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.  You could hear her shifting, the floorboards creaking under her weight.  “I couldn’t leave her.”

It sounded like their conversation was ending, and you needed to get out of there before they caught you eavesdropping.  You tiptoed past the cracked door and down the stairs, only relaxing once you made it to the kitchen without a sound.

Your head was still turned up towards the second floor when Laura scared you.

She came around the corner with a basket of laundry on her hip, setting it on the kitchen table.  “Hey, Y/N.  Anything you need thrown in the wash?”

You shook your head as you grabbed the basket from her. “No, but let me help.”  When she tried to take it back from you, you pulled it out of her reach.  “Really, Laura,” you said, heading towards the laundry room at the end of the hallway with her.  “I haven’t gotten to thank you for letting us stay here.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted as you started to put the clothing into the washer.  Truth be told, she was rather grateful that she had a moment to rest.  Being pregnant and taking care of two kids was no easy feat for a normal woman, and she had to worry about her superhero husband getting himself killed every other second.  “You’re his team.  You have his back and I can’t thank you all enough for that.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, malen’kaya?” Bucky asked that Friday night from where he was sitting on your bed.  His hands were nervously rubbing against his jeans as he watched you move around the room.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, warmth blooming in your belly from hearing the term of endearment.  He’d taken to calling you the sweet name more often than not, since he knew you remembered him.

Even though you never talked about it.

He raised his eyebrows as he watched you run your fingers through your hair, double checking your appearance in the mirror.  The yellow sundress you had on was the one you’d worn to your first trip to the city with him.  “You know why.”

And yeah, you did know.  The reason that would be arriving in about twenty minutes or so.  The reason that drove a stupid minivan that Sam had gotten into the habit of making fun of him about.

But it was a family dinner.  Nothing too scary, right?

“James, I’ll be fine,” you said as you met his eyes in the mirror.  His worry presented itself in the furrow of his brow, his gorgeous eyes tracking your every movement.  Taking pity on him, you moved to stand between his legs.  Your hands rested on his shoulders, toying with the strands of hair that brushed against your fingertips.  “I said it would be okay to invite them.  I want them here.”

He relaxed into your touch, practically keening. “I’m still mad at Sam for suggesting it.”

“I know you are.”  You smiled faintly as he brought his arms up around you, his head face burrowing into your stomach.  “But I’m not.”

“Why?”  The sound was muffled, coming out like one loud groan, but you understood.

“Because I’ve forgiven Steve,” you said, which you knew would shock him.  It’d shocked you when you’d realized it just a few nights before.

He pulled back, just as confused as you expected him to be.  “Why? I wouldn’t have.”

“Because I don’t like being so angry with him,” you admitted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap.  You curled up against him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “He was a major part of my life for almost ten years, eight of which we were together.”  You couldn’t help but sigh.  It was really upsetting that your and Steve’s relationship had ended in flames rather than a fairytale ending, but you were finding that you weren’t as upset by it anymore.  “And what he did was shitty.  There’s no excuses for it, even though he explained his reasons,” you said.  Your fingers absentmindedly picked at the soft material of his black t-shirt.  “Even though he’s an asshole, I still want him in my life.  So even though nothing he said was going to magically make what he did better, I decided to forgive him.”  Your nose scrunched up.  “If that makes sense?”

Bucky’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter as he nodded, dropping a lingering kiss to your hair.  “It does.”

“Really?” You asked, disbelief clear in your eyes. You could barely make sense of it yourself.  You couldn’t imagine that the rambling that had just come from your mouth made any sense whatsoever.

“Yes,��� he insisted, “and I’m proud of you.  Not a lot of people would forgive him for what he’s done.”

The two of you sat there for who knows how long, just relishing in the peace that came from being near each other.  The gentle rise and fall of Bucky’s chest that was lulling you into a sleepy daze, your hot breath fanning over his neck.

Over the past week, you’d been holding onto each other even more often than normal, if that was possible.  You sought out his comfort, and he sought yours.  The mission that had turned out to be a trap weighed heavily in everyone’s minds, even though you refused to acknowledge it.

You just wanted to go back to your little bubble where everyone was still happy after the Snap being reversed.

“We should head downstairs,” Bucky said, breaking the quiet reverie that had surrounded the two of you.

You just hummed in response, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

You could feel his smile as he kissed your hair yet again.  “Come on, malen’kaya.”

When you got to the kitchen, Peter and Aunt May were already there, having driven the hour out from the city.  As soon as the teenager’s eyes landed on you, he was power walking across the room and pulling you into a hug.

Laughing, you hugged the boy back, ruffling his messy curls.  “Have you gotten taller since I saw you?”

He swatted at your hands as a bashful blush crept up his neck.  “Y/N, it’s only been a month.”

“And?” You propped your hands on your hips.  “What’s your point?  You’re a growing boy, you know.”

“I’m technically twenty—”

“And James is technically over a hundred,” you retorted, knowing that you effectively ended the argument by the way he stuck out his tongue before heading back for the island.

Wanda had taken over cooking for the night, since she was the one insistent on not having takeout.  She was currently taking pirozhki out of the oven, the delicious smell filling the entire kitchen.

“What is that?” Morgan asked, peering over at the pan that the redhead had pulled out.  Her hair had been pulled into a braid and, to your amusement, her red dress already had a stain from where she’d spilled her chocolate milk.

“That’s pirozhki,” you said, picking her up and setting her on your hip.  “It’s pastry filled with potatoes, meat, or cheese.”

“Like a pizza pocket?”

The people around you burst into laughter while Morgan just pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Kind of, baby girl,” you said, kissing her cheek. “I promise you’ll like it.”  It was a little dangerous promising a little girl that she’d like something, but it was a bet you were willing to take.  You’d loved pirozhkis growing up in the Red Room. There was nothing better after a long day of training than sinking your teeth into the warm goodiness.

It wasn’t long before the elevators opened, and the Rogers stepped through.

Though everyone other than you, Sam, and Bucky was still wary of them, Peggy’s face lit up with her usual dazzling smile.  “Y/N!” She said, making a beeline for you.

Hugging Peggy was one of the best feelings in the world.  She was such a tough woman and kept most of the world at an arm’s distance, that it meant the world when she was so openly affectionate.  “Hey, Peg,” you said, relishing in her embrace.  “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, just fine, love,” she said before pulling away to greet Bucky and the others.

You were a little surprised to find that it didn’t hurt as much anymore when Steve saw you, his eyes glittering.  The way he said your name as he greeted you didn’t send your heart fluttering.

It was refreshing.

All of you sat down around the dining table, feeling a little strange.  You all had casually eaten together in the living room, chowing down on whatever takeout had been ordered that night, but this was different.  This was purposeful. You were all choosing to sit down together and spend your evening with each other.

Like a real family.

Your heart sank a little when you saw the two empty chairs, though you willed yourself to not let yourself be sad.  You knew that Tony and Natasha would love that all of you were gathering together.  Natasha had been the glue of the Avengers for so long, even though she hadn’t noticed it, and she would’ve been proud to know that you were still a family even after she was gone.

“Mommy, can we get a dog?”

Pepper almost choked on her food as she avoided her daughter’s eyes.  From the look on her face, you could tell that she was praying to whatever God she believed in that Morgan would drop it, would forget all about it.

But if the tiny brunette was anything, it was her father’s daughter.

“Mommy?”  The redhead finally turned her head, almost wincing when she saw the puppy eyes already in full affect.  “Can we pretty please get a dog?”

“Uh…”  The widow was having a bit of trouble finding an answer.  On one hand, having a dog could be good for her.  They were shone to help those dealing with loss, and Lord knows everyone in the room fit that description.  It wasn’t like they didn’t have the space or the lawn for it.

On the other hand, a dog?!

“It’s not the worst idea,” Sam said, and they could see him flip into therapist mode before their very eyes.

Pepper bit her lip as she glanced around the table. “If Morgan gets a dog, we have to talk about that mission.”

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

You knew that she was frustrated.  When you’d all gotten back, no one had wanted to talk about it.  All she’d been told was that it was a trap.

“What mission?” Steve asked from where he was sitting between Sam and Peggy.

Bucky shifted in his seat, and before he even said anything, you knew it was going to be something you didn’t like.  “It was a trap.  HYDRA lured us into an abandoned factory so they could try to kidnap Y/N.”

Pepper looked like she was ready to rip someone’s head off.  Her cheeks went red and Morgan was staring at her mother in confusion.  “What?!” She spit out.

Teeth grinding against each other, your hands rested firmly on your legs.  “It wasn’t as bad as he’s making it out to be.”

“Like hell it wasn’t!”  Bucky was half-turned in his seat so he could face you.  “They specifically said to grab you!”

“Because I was an easier target than you!”

“Bullshit!”

No one bothered to call him on his language, knowing that they’d probably get a fork shoved into their neck if they did.

“No, really.  If I had the option of choosing between kidnapping a two-hundred pound super soldier with a metal arm and me, I’d choose me,” you said.  You knew you were laying the sarcasm on thicker than what was necessary, but you didn’t really care.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t want to be their target!” You snapped. Everyone went quiet, the silence hanging heavy in the air.  “I don’t want to have to think about whether or not HYDRA is trying to kidnap me!”

And yeah, they were more than likely right that you were the demon organization’s target on that mission, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.  It was too much.  It was too much to face right now and you might breakdown if you had to.

Your throat felt tight as tears pricked your eyes. No matter how hard you willed it, they weren’t going away.  “I just want us to go back to not having to worry about HYDRA.  I want the world to stay safe for a little longer,” you said, your voice cracking.

“Malen’kaya,” Bucky whispered, pulling you into him. Your tears were wet against his shirt, but he didn’t mind.  “I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.” He closed his eyes as he rubbed your back soothingly.  “I’m not going to let them take you, you hear me?  They won’t get you.”

And even though you didn’t want to cry in front of your family, it wouldn’t be the first time.  You just didn’t want them to think of you as the weak link, despite how unlikely it was that they would.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” He asked. When you shook your head after a long moment, he brushed away your tears with gently fingers.  “Let’s just worry about dinner right now, okay?”

After dinner, you sat on the living room couch. A half drank bottle of wine was resting on the table in front of you, an almost empty glass in your hand.  The others had retreated to their rooms or left for their homes about thirty minutes beforehand.

“Want some company?”

You didn’t even need to look to know that it was Bucky.  Shrugging, you motioned towards all the empty space beside you.  “Be my guest.”

The super soldier settled in right beside you, his hands nervously wringing together.  “I’m sorry for pushing you,” he said.  His voice was low and smooth like molasses.

It was easily the sweetest sound you’d ever heard.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupted, his blue eyes shimmering as you finally met his gaze.  “I knew you didn’t want to talk about the mission, but I still pushed you. It wasn’t right of me.”

“But we needed to talk about it.”  You finished off your glass before reaching to pour yourself another.  “We still do, really.  We have to figure out why they specifically tried to grab me and what we’re going to do to prevent that.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to nestle your head on his shoulder.  “Whatever happens, I’m going to protect you,” he said softly, even though he knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.  There was a feeling in his gut that told him that it was going to be a little harder than what he thought, that he was getting into something dangerous.  But then again, it always was and you were worth it.  “I’m going to keep you safe.”

[kumeko]

duplication

Characters/Pairings: Keith, Pidge

A/N: Written for the @kidgezine! It was a lot of fun writing these two and having them bump off one another. This is a bit of an in-between seasons piece, a missing scene.

Summary: Take me near the asteroid, Pidge had said. We’ll be safe, she had said. Keith wasn’t sure why he still listened to her sometimes. Hopefully they could fix their spaceship and get out.

…

…

…

…

“Almost done?” Keith crouched down next to the command panel, his hands hanging loosely off his knees. It was a little strange doing this now, for various reasons—he was a little taller, for one. For two, it had been two years since he’d last done this.

  “Almost!” A pair of sneakers wiggled happily from underneath a buzzing machine. At least, he hoped it was happy and not a panicked response to the heavy metal object squishing his friend. After hearing a few clunks and a soft curse, the feet slowly pulled out, revealing a very grimy and dusty Pidge. “We really need to dust under there.”

“Probably.” Keith grimaced, reaching onto the command panel to grab the towel. At least this explained why she had him search the small ship for one. “Will it run?”

  “Thanks!” Taking off her glasses, she rubbed them clean as she considered his question. “Soon—I reconnected a few things and—” There was a soft splutter, the lights flickered briefly, and Pidge’s smile dropped a notch. “Ok, scratch that. I might have to go under a few more times.”

  “That’s what you said an hour ago.” Keith shook his head and stood up. Looking out the main window, he sighed at the empty expanse of space ahead of them. Somehow, that was always the case. Whether he was trapped on an asteroid for two years, lost in his lion, losing the others and their lions—the ridiculously big and complicated space full of beings to protect was somehow always empty when he needed them to give a hand back.

  Probably for the best anyways. Last time someone had tried to help them, they had also tried to sell them to the empire. Not an experience he was looking forward to repeating. “Once we get this fixed, we should just head back.”

  “Huh?” Pidge stood up, gripping her towel tightly. “I thought we were going to the edge of the Quantum Abyss.”

  “You do know I spent two years there, right?” Keith pointed out dryly. It was a little funny how much shorter she was; he had always been taller but now he felt like a giant. “And I was lucky it was only two years.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s why we’re going there.” Pidge pouted, crossing her arms. Any anger or even power in her stance was lost by the fact that only her glasses were clean and the rest of her face was a black, sooty mess. With popcorn on it.

  Yeah, they definitely needed to clean down there. Allura’s pet mice were fun, but Keith wasn’t too keen to discover just what other rodents existed in the universe. “We’re going only close enough for you to get the data, no more than that.”

  “Good enough!” Pidge grinned, raising the towel once more to wipe her face. Before he could stop her, she smeared it even worse, until she looked almost like a modern art exhibit. Hanging it on her shoulder, she sat down. “Break time! Did you find any snacks?”

  He stared at her moment, debating whether or not to tell her about her face. Well, she’d be going back under anyways soon enough and she couldn’t really get much worse than that. Probably. Grabbing a black bag off his seat, he settled down on the floor next to her. “Just a few—we need to ration our goods until we can move again.”

  Pidge’s hand was already halfway into the bag. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She pulled out a purple bag with a strange green giraffe-cow hybrid on it. Without hesitation, she popped it open and munched on neon-green striped things that he hoped were chips. “Ahhh, that hits the spot.”

  Did it? Even after all their time out here, he was just as surprised by the food as he was when they first came out here. Gingerly, he pulled out a blinding yellow bag, full of Cheetos. Cheetos with brown spots. They didn’t taste anything at all like cheese and he wondered for a moment if they were actually made out of some space-cheetah. “Better than nothing.”

  “Don’t be like that!” Pidge head-butted his arm before stealing one of his Cheetos. “Ohh, that’s an interesting flavour.”

  “Hey!” Frowning, he tried to grab one of hers in retaliation, but she kept yanking the bag out of reach.

  “You don’t even like them!” She batted his hands away, more fluid and accurate than he’d expected. Keith had remembered her clumsier, only graceful with a screen and a toolbelt. “Your arms are so much longer now!”

  “But not long enough.” Giving up, he returned to his now heavily guarded bag.

  “Really? Is it because you’re half Galra? Will you grow even more?” Pidge poked at his arm now, her food discarded to the side. She’d done this before, when he’d first returned, but somehow the topic never tired her. Her hands slowly inched along his arm, pressing and prodding each muscle. “You’re going to need new clothes.”

  “I already need new clothes.” Keith rolled his eyes, remembering just how little of his wardrobe fit when he returned. Even his favourite jacket didn’t, leading to an awkward tear that left Lance in hysterical laughter.

  “I wonder how long you’ll live—I mean, I thought Lotor and his family were immortal because of the quintessence, but his nanny’s still alive too.” Pidge sighed, resting her cheek on his arm. “And you’re half-human too; I need to study biology.”

  “Really? Do you mean literally immortal or just very—” Keith paused, processing what Pidge had just said. He whipped his face to hers, incredulous eyes wide. “His nanny?”

  “His nanny,” she confirmed, a solemn nod. “She who raised him in the ways of the Galara.”

  “His nanny,” Keith repeated, the word still funny and strange to hear. The Galara had nannies? Lotor had a nanny? It was weird to think of him as a child, listening obediently or even getting punished. “What’s she like?”

  “Strict?” Pidge shrugged, tossing her hands up uncertainly. “You should ask Hunk, she taught him.”

  He wasn’t sure if that was even more of a surprise than finding out he was effectually immortal and Lotor still had his babysitter. “Hunk? Really?”

  “He really liked it.” Pidge bit her lip, before retracting her words. “He sorta liked it and he’s never going back.”

  “I don’t think that’s called liking it.” Keith snorted and after a moment, Pidge joined in, hunching over as she laughed.

  “You should have seen his face, though.” She wiped her eyes, her fingers blurring the tear streaks and oil into a single wet mess.

  Keith resisted the urge to tell her to look at hers—he’d take a discrete photo later. It almost seemed like her face got worse with every second and he wanted the maximum impact. “Next time.”

  She shook her chip bag over her mouth, dropping the last of the crumbs before discarding the bag. Within seconds, she was back onto her creeper seat.  Stretching her arms in front of her, she announced, “Break time is over.”

  Keith nodded, taking another bite of his Cheeto. When she scrunched her brow, nodding at his bag, he shrugged. “I’m not really doing anything.”

  “…” Pidge opened her mouth and then closed it. He could almost see the argument running through her mind, her hand raising and dropping as she tried out different ideas before finally giving up with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” As he smiled, she pouted, staring at him with narrowed eyes and puffed up cheeks. “For now.”

  Again, her threat would have been more convincing if she didn’t now have cheeto streaks added into her Picasso face. More than getting the best shot, he really, really wanted to clean her face. Before he could say anything, she dived back under the console panel. “For now!”

   Her feet were the only indication of progress and he watched them as he ate. Tapping fast meant she was searching for something or doing routine work, while slow tapping indicated something difficult had come up. It was comforting, almost, reminding him of his time at the castle, his time as a paladin. Time had worn the hectic memories into fond ones.  He had half forgotten his disastrous leadership until Lance had kindly reminded him of just how bad it was.

  Somehow, they even had it on video and he wasn’t sure if the black lion had betrayed him or Hunk and Pidge just hacked into every camera they could find and then some.

  “Wrench,” Pidge ordered, holding her hand out from other the panel.

  Digging through her toolbox, he grabbed the first wrench he saw. “This one?”

  She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the head, before dropping it with a clang. “Bigger one.”

  “Bigger…” he dug through the tool box, nails and sockets before finding another wrench. “3/4?”

  “Yep.” Her hand disappeared immediately, and he heard a soft clanging, a swear, and then a sharp click. “Try the command panel.”

  “…the command panel?” He stared at her feet accusingly, as though the guilt could travel up her spine. “You broke the command panel?”

  “Technically, you didn’t even know about it till now, so it was never broken,” Pidge retorted, her foot tapping impatiently. “Did you check?”

  “You know that doesn’t make sense.” Keith went over to the control panel, tapping out various instructions. Life support, check. Docking, check. Flight—well, technically the engines were still down but the instructions worked. “It seems fine so far. Though the engines are still not working.”

  “That’s expected.” She slid out once more and stood up, dusting her hands on her pants. “I can do some calibrations here.”

  Keith eyed her dirty fingers with a grimace and handed her yet another towel. He was almost terrified to look into her workshop, to see just what state she left it. Her black fingerprints were already dotting her pants, the edges of the table, the bag of chips she’d discarded. “Not with those hands.”

  Pidge’s brow rose even as she accepted the towel. “Didn’t know you were such a clean freak.”

  “Only compared to you,” he replied dryly, watching as she ineffectually cleaned her hands. It had gone from funny to—no, it was still funny. It would probably never stop being funny, but they had to get a move on. “Let me do it.”

  “Yes, mom.” Pidge blinked as he took the towel. “Is this because you spent two years with your mom?”

  “What?” Keith shot her a glare, rubbing her fingers a little harder than he needed to. “No.”

  “Oh, come on, you were together for two years, you sure you didn’t pick this up from her?” Pidge tried to suppress her giggles as he rubbed her fingers; she had always been a little ticklish there. “Did—ha—she do this to—ha—you?”

  “She’s not that type of mom.” When Pidge gave him an expectant look, he sighed. “We…talked a lot. About dad. Home. What she did. Myself.” He paused between his points, releasing a newly cleaned finger with each one until finally he let go of her hands. “There, all done.”

  “Ohhh, nice.” She wiggled them in front of her before turning to the control panel. Her fingers danced on the keyboard as she punched code after code. “Did you really just talk for two years?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck—even if they’d done nothing else, the talking would have been more than worth it. Mom was more than a word now; an image, a feeling was attached to it, similar but not quite what he thought of with Dad. “We trained a lot—after we fought off the wolves, we had to make a shelter and find food but then—”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Pidge stopped typing, squinting at him. “Did you just say wolves?”

  “Huh?” Keith frowned, trying to remember the exact species name. “They weren’t earth wolves, they were…uh…”

  Pidge took a step toward him, her eyes sparkling. “A pack of them?”

  “Yeah?” Keith backed up, unnerved by how long she had been staring at him without blinking. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Holy cow, that is amazing!” Pidge rocked back and forth on her feet, pumping her fists excitedly. “You’re like a real-life ranger.”

  “Ranger?” Keith bit his lip. “Like a park ranger?”

  “Oh please, nothing that normal. It’s a class in Monsters and Mana and you basically lived it.” Pidge lightly bounced up and down as she returned to her keyboard, her hands flying as fast as her mouth did. “You found food and fought off monsters and basically survived in the woods—your stats would be so high if you made a character sheet with this.”

  It was like she was speaking Greek, her mind travelling from one idea to the next quicker than he could keep up. He held up his hand. “Wait, Monsters and Mana”

  “It’s a game. Corran played it with us—oh right, you weren’t there.” Pidge hummed and he could see the gears in her head churning. “It’s like an rpg, but we make everything up.”

  “I somehow feel that is no different than usual,” he snorted and she joined in after glowering at him for a moment.

  “Yeah, I mean, sure—especially when we can’t read the text because it’s an old game and there’s like a gazillion different languages in space, but it’s a bit different.” Pidge chuckled again. “We make up our characters and play a story that Corran’s created. It’s a lot of fun.”

  “Really?” He leaned against the wall, watching her face light up as she explained.

  By now fixing the engines were automatic to her and she barely paid attention to what she typed. “Yeah, like Lance was this not-so-silent assassin and he kept setting off traps, Allura kept injuring herself because she picked an elf and they’re…kinda weak. And Shiro.” Pidge doubled over laughing, her hand hitting the keyboard before he could stop her.

  Keith quickly inspected the keyboard before sighing with relief. They’d just fixed it. If it broke again, they might as well just wait for rescue. Distracted, he asked, “What did he do?”

  “You can pick any character, any class, anything in this game. Literally anything and he picks a paladin. He picks himself.” Pidge stopped to take a breath, her cheeks creased from all the laughter. “Not once, but thrice.”

  “Thrice?” Even if he’d never played the game before, that didn’t sound right.

  “He died because of Allura’s mice and then an attack. So we let him pick a new character. Any character. Shiro just pretended to be his twin brother, Jiro.”

  Keith winced. “I thought he had more imagination than that. And Jiro? Really?”

  “I don’t think he even changed his backstory—he was supposed to be the only survivor! Then again, it’s Shiro,” Pidge guffawed, as though it explained everything. And in a way, it did. Suddenly, she fell silent, staring out the main window into deep space. Her fingers stilled, her feet stopped moving, and Pidge was quiet in a way he rarely saw her. “He wasn’t Shiro, though.”

  Two blades clashed in the chambers of his memory, a mockery of Shiro’s face twisting with insults and lies. That was not Shiro. That was never Shiro. Keith firmly shook his head. “No, he wasn’t.”

  “He just…he just felt like him. Can you even clone that?” Pidge rubbed her arm, looking small and uncomfortable. The rug had been pulled from under all their feet and they were still trying to land. “A person’s goodness? Their personality?”

  “I don’t think so.” Keith looked at his hands, at the human skin hiding Galra blood. Just what did his DNA say? What was encoded in it? His mother’s impatience? His father’s solitude? Were they things he’d inherited or things he learned, things his own clones would have or not? “That’s…that’s not how it works, right?”

  “I don’t know.” Pidge stared at the floor, as though the answers were in the endlessly repeated whorls. Her fingers curled around the table. “Maybe? I…I really should have taken more biology.”

  They were different, he wanted to say, but he remembered the clone’s smile, the way he laughed with all of his body as though it was exploding out of him whenever Lance did something stupid. His hand, firm and gentle, as it rested on Keith’s shoulder, telling him to make a choice.

  They weren’t the same, he wanted to say, but the words were caught in his throat, unlike the clone’s, who always had a strategy ready, who was patient enough to read the battle and find the changing tide. Or maybe it had just felt that way, that he had seen what he wanted to in the clone.

  Even in the end, just before he died, Keith couldn’t be certain if the clone had spared him. If some part of Shiro had woken up beyond the Galra’s control and did the right thing, even if it was for the last time.

  “The Black Lion liked him,” Keith finally said, because it was the only truth they knew. The lions always picked their master and the Black Lion had picked the clone.

  “Yeah, he did.” Pidge pressed her forehead against the cool control panel, taking a deep breath. In, out, Keith matched his own to her rhythm. “That counts for something.”

  “Yeah.” Keith gripped her shoulder, smiling at her when she looked up.

  “Another thing your mom taught you?” Pidge asked, squeezing his hand before straightening up. “You’re usually more awkward than that.”

  “It has been two years,” Keith countered, letting go.

  “Yeah but, you were all alone on that rock.” Pidge went back to typing, a sly grin on her face. “And you’re Keith.”

  “And you’re Pidge and I don’t think even five years will help with your height.”

  “Low blow!” Pidge gave a triumphant final tap and crossed her arm. “Engines are working!”

  “Finally!” Keith manned his station, setting the coordinates for the auto-pilot. “Hopefully we get back before Hunk sends a search party.”

  “It might be too late for that.” Pidge pulled up more screens, double checking their logs. “You know, I kinda missed this.” She gave him an awkward smile. “Talking to you like this, I mean. And everything else.”

  Keith rubbed his neck. It was strange, but one thing his solo missions had taught him was that while he did like being alone, he had also surprisingly enjoyed teamwork. Lance’s inane chatter on the line, Hunk and Pidge geeking out over the latest tech, Allura warring between caution and aggression. “Me too.”

  “And since we have so much to catch up on, what if we go to the—”

  “Pidge, not even for you.” Keith shot down the suggestion.

  “It was worth a try.”

[fiery-assassin-arc]

𝒥𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝐸𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎: 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓉𝑜𝓃

Triggering content under the cut: emotional abuse, physical abuse.

Remington Asher.

Age: 19 (MKX), 23 (death)

Hair: Curly and Black.

Eyes: Hazel (Outworlder), Red eyes (when angered).

Height: 6'4 approximately.

Weight: 145lbs.

Abilities: Shadow manipulation, Darkness manipulation and shadow generation.

Species: Outworld-demon hybrid.

He is cunning, charming and cold, lying his way into nobility. A Lord with his family consisting of his sister and mother. From the moment he drew breath, he knew what he was capable of. With a devilish smile. His father, a demon from the Netherrealm, “died” two years after his birth. He was raised by his mother, a Outworlder countess. Sweet and warm, she wanted him to be raised without succumbing to the influence of his father who whispered in his ear that he was destined to take what he wanted.

POWERS

As most Outworlders often have supernatural ability, his mother did not have any to pass over. His father, however, did. Powers to manipulate the darkness and shadows around others. As a child, he was able to blend in the darkness, appearing to scare his mother at times. It didn't scare him when he was able to hide in the shadows, he found absolute comfort in the fact. In a way, he believed he was closer  to his father.  His mother did say to him, “Your father always liked the darkness so much, so much that fire was something he despised.”  

His powers over manipulating shadows occurred at the age of 14, when he had gotten into a fight with his little sister.  They got into an argument. She insulted him for being born of a demon, while she is fully-blooded Outworlder, and Remington, angered by the fact, crafted a knife made out of pure shadow and stabbed her in the shoulder, darkness slipping inside her body. It made her ill and tired for days.  When he kills others or senses a kill, he can feel their soul leave this realm and pass to the Netherrealm.

PERSONALITY + LIFE

,Remington's title was able to get him into the deeper part of royal politics to get close to the Kahn as part of the royal court,. So he was there for it all. Mileena's rise to the throne , and Kotal's coup to usurp the throne.  He once aided Mileena, but then chose to be with the Osh-Tekk.

He has always been one for getting what he wanted, and that's not just because of his title.  If it had anything to do with power, appearance, anything,  he uses his charms and silver tongue to have things work in his favor. He has a need for control, to have things go his way.  Clothes ironed where there is not a single wrinkle in the fabric, hair combed to the right to accent his face,  everything to standard. If it is not up to his idea, he will ensure that it is perfected.  

ROLE IN IRIS'S LIFE

While Remington was aware that he may not live forever, he knew that there some secrets from other realms. Such as Sorai when it was merged, known for inhabiting dragons.  Hybrids together can make someone practically immortal. But Remington wanted to know the secrets to their longevity, not just for himself but for Kotal's  soldiers during the rise of the civil war created by Mileena, the former Kahnum.  So, upon finding out the young princess was looking for a betrothal, he sought out the opportunity, even if she was at the bottom of the royal food chain.  

“She is, by far, the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Fair skin decorated with freckles the color of cinnamon, wavy hair red as the flames I know she inherits. A voice as melodic as a symphony. And her eyes, so bright, it's if you are staring  into hell itself. And her personality, too. It's too . . . wild. Innocent. Ah, she's perfect. Perhaps she's the one who knows.” - Remington seeing Iris for the first time

At first, Remington only “liked” Iris for the assumption she knows something about Soraian lifespan, putting up the act that he is genuinely interested, going through the typical stages of courting, flowers, compliments, taking her to events. But then he noticed things about her, her beauty, her attitude, the crown. The Crown. Sure, being  a part of Kotal's Kourt is well fun and all, but nothing compared to having the secrets of a long forgotten race, have this kingdom of the last of the Soraians, dragons.

He realized that he could shape her to his image of the perfect bride. She's young, so her mind could be easily warped to fit his design. She'll agree to him, listen and love him. If she showed her defiance, responses would be anger lacing his tone, or fierce grabbing by the arms or face, leaving thumbprint-shaped bruises on her skin to get his point across, sometimes using his powers to amplify the pain.  And during their courtship, to public eye their relationship looked like the perfect power couple, but alone with Iris, he scolded,  mocked her. Chose her outfits, limited her interactions with friends, dismissed her choice of clothing and opinion, made her choose when to be quiet.  Chipped the pieces away that made her the strong and confident type, into someone  who had low views of herself.

As things were getting serious, with Iris losing parts of what made her who she was prior to meeting him, he planned how to have the kingdom all to himself.  But first, he needed what he came here for: the secrets. Believing Iris was lying to him, he hired Kano to beat the information out of her when he finishes planning his attack on the palace.  If, by some miracle, she'd survive, he'd make her his bride with her now conquered kingdom. Then her friend Mia stumbled on his meeting coming to an end with the assassins, and eliminated her from the picture to keep her quiet. Her death drove Iris closer to him, where he further continued to make her into his design.  When the palace was attacked and she was supposedly 'dead,' Remington began to obsess over her, thinking of how a beautiful queen she would have been, and how she will belong to her always.

So, months later upon hearing of Iris's return, he grew enraged. He expected her death to happen should she not have anything to say, but he did picture alive for months. Remington decided, after arranging a meeting with her in the throne room, to reveal what he had done, saying it was for his own interest. She was easy prey; and he didn't expect to like her, much less love her to a point she infects his waking thought.

“Marry me. Marry me, and your family will be free. You'll be safe.” He whispers ever so sweetly that it tastes like venom. “No one will hurt you. You will be my Queen. If not, you'll be executed for abandoning your kingdom.” - Remington.

After throwing her into the dungeon for her kicking him in the chin, he attempted to convince her to marry him or she would die at the first sign of dawn. Her family, her life would be spared if only she just agreed, and it should have been so easy. But Iris refused, no matter what he said, even when he choked her, nearly cutting off her air with his thumb at her windpipe. As she rejected him once again, he arranged for her death, until she tried to escape the very next morning.  Since she wanted to run, she'll die doing just that: running for her life. He sent her to the coldest region, not caring where, and two assassins to torment and kill her.

If he couldn't have her, no one will.

HER RETURN & HIS DEATH

“Son of a bitch.. How can she be alive? It's if I have to do it myself. However . . .  I am admiring the look. Muscle accents her arms, her face has lost the baby fat. The bangs on her forehead are swept to the side, exposing the scar I gave her. Her eyes are more beautiful since I've dreamed of them late in the night, and there's something about them. Vibrant red hair is turned into a braid, resting on her shoulder. She is so beautiful.” -Remington

When Remington saw her again after three years, he was completely enamored with her, and surprised by her saying she would marry him within a month's time.  That she had said she loved him, would be his wife, even mentioning her fallen family. Which weren't really fallen, much to his chagrin. When he was waiting for the assassins to come back, his mother and sister had apparently freed her family from their prison and had them in Outworld. He didn't bother to go after them, since he managed to get some information on Soraian blood, how powerful it could be.

For the past 31 days, Remington was very pleased with the new Iris. She was more docile, calm,  demure, sweet. At dinners, breakfasts, lunches, she always gave him a smile, or occasionally  graze her shoulder against his. In public, she gave him kisses on the cheek. She was so agreeing to everything, while they planned the wedding. Finally, he had her in the shape he wanted her. This perfect bride, perfect wife. Until the day of their wedding, that is. Before they even said I do, there was a knife in his shoulder, ensuing a fight.

He was infuriated being fooled by her, not holding back with his shadows to attack her, using shadow monsters to hold her back while he attacked. He certainly didn't expect her to be trained in the arts of kombat, knowing how to evade and use her fire to slice through his creations. To even the playing field, he sent them to the Nether, in a dark area of the realm, where the shadows obey him. He had the advantage, not giving Iris a chance to get a strike in before he had her on the ground.

“Doesn't this bring me back... Oh, that's right. That's the face your little friend made before she met the fatal blade. Guess you two were like sisters, after all. A shame, my Rainbow. You would have been an amazing queen.”

He leaned down, pressing a b l o o d y kiss against her lips, inhaling as he formed a knife out of pure darkness. But before he could do that, Iris slammed her skull against his, and retaliated with wave of fire coming towards him, knocking him flat on his ass. When she dug her hands into his chest, he screamed out, trying to stop her, screaming that she will regret it. The last thing he saw was her clutching his still beating heart in her hands with a sadistic smile.

Even though he had died, Remington's words and actions upon her still impacts her on a daily basis. Giving her  insecurities about herself, confidence doesn't seem to be strong. Occasionally, she will rub a scar above her right eyebrow, where he hit her with his shadows. It is the only place on her body that feels cold. He made her extremely cautious to expose her heart to others she feels a romantic connection to, fearing they would use it against her. Nightmares will plague her in the night, of him coming back to life, choking her, finishing the fight she started. After his death, she feared her own shadow, thinking he could hide in them.  

[ask-rogertaylor]

((Here’s another fic. This time the story of when Roger first realised he had feelings for Brian and also had his first gay crisis—and then that one time they kissed and roger freaked the fuck out. This started as a ficlet but I’m sappy and can’t write my thoughts in a concise way .. so have pining sad roger ,, the ending is kinda sad ,, but just keep in mind that Rog and Bri end up together eventually!! Featuring @ask-brian-may and @ask-rogerina! It also has John, Jo, Freddie, Jamie and Melina very briefly!!))

Roger feels light.

It’s the buzz of the alcohol. It’s why he likes the stuff so much. Roger feels heavy most of the time. He doesn’t talk about it, and nobody really knows about it, so he relieves himself of that burden as often as he can. Because feeling light is a relief.

His head is also pretty light. Nothing really seems to be in focus right now. He doesn’t even think he’s moving himself, it’s mostly Brian dragging and guiding him along up the pathway leading into his and Rogerina’s place. The hand Brian has supporting Roger’s waist is very warm, but also cooling in a weird sense Roger can’t explain.

“M’sorry,” Roger slurs, he’s embarrassed, a little. Brian shouldn’t have to be dealing with the consequences of his shitty coping mechanism.

Brian smiles softly, “For what, Rog?

“This. I reek, I’m a mess, and you should be at home right now,” Roger explains, taking in the sweet scent of Brian’s cologne. He really is a stark contrast in comparison to Brian in this moment.

“Rog. I like being with you. Besides, you were right, I did need an excuse to show off my new clogs tonight,” Brian chuckles lightheartedly, but the smile he gives him is genuine and true. Roger can’t help but smile back. He probably looks goofy in his woozy state, but he can’t help himself.

“I had a fun night, Rog. Don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda funny to see you like this. More blackmail material for me. I would ask you if you had one too, but I can tell you did,” Brian jokes.

Roger let’s out a hybrid of a giggle and a chortle, far too pleased for his own good. Brian makes him feel like he’s on a constant high. He likes being around Brian. He just knows with Brian. He knows this is a companion he’s made for life. And he’s happy to have him in his life.

He looks up at Brian, in this astounding stolen moment. He can see his profile, beautifully framed and lit by the soft moonlight above them. His eyes are warm. His skin is soft. Then he looks over at Roger with the kindest smile and his eyes twinkle with this softness and watchfulness. Roger thanks the universe, and he knows he’s on borrowed time, and yet the universe gave him this one spectacular moment, and he praises it.

And everything else seems to fade and all Roger can see is Brian.

His vision hazes into this rose colour. Flowers are blooming. His heart starts to race. He feels chilled but also very warm. There’s a ringing in his ears. He feels increasingly light. He feels like he’s falling.

Brian knocks gently on the door, and Rogerina opens up within a minute.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Rogi, but your idiot brother here forgot his keys and uh..is slightly..very intoxicated,” Brian explains sheepishly.

She smiles amusedly at her own brother, “That’s alright, darling. I wasn’t asleep anyway. C’mon in, I would help you, but he’s gross.”

Roger flips her off—at least tries to, he’s far too drowsy to actually recognise if he has or not.

Brian dumps him onto the seat by the window, a chuckle escaping him as Roger flopped down like some rag doll. He shook his head and tutted fondly.

“..Well..I mustn’t stay too long. It is late. ..so uh..just—“

“—aspirin and a glass of water by his bed. Make sure he falls asleep on his side. A bucket too. Which is super gross to think about,” Rogerina grimaces.

“You’re a dear, Rogi. You really are. Well..goodbye, see you soon,” Brian announces, but looks over at Roger and comes closer to him, so they are at eye level. He rests a hand on his shoulder, and it’s warm. It also tingles. Roger smiles sloppily at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Rog. Sleep well,” Brian says sweetly, his eyes warm and inviting. It makes Roger feel at home.

Roger watches him as he leaves, and he shifts over to watch the window, his eyes following him as he fades away into the night. When he walks it’s like he leaves a trail of stardust behind him. He’s absolutely magical and Roger can’t keep his eyes off of him. He takes his breath away.

He doesn’t even notice the stupid smile on his face.

“Jesus, you’re like in love with him,” Rogerina jokes casually, as she picks up the coat he’s dropped on the ground and hangs it up on the rack.

Roger’s heart drops and his chest is cold. He feels so heavy and his ears are ringing. The pulsating in his heart gets louder and louder and his hands are clammy and he feels absolutely empty. He doesn’t even remember where he is anymore.

Fuck, he’s in love with Brian.

It’s a sinking feeling that pulls him down to the ground. It takes him over almost completely.

Roger’s scarily light. He pushes himself to his feet, and he stumbles, the world is collapsing in on him and he can’t breathe.

As he ravages up the stairs like he struggling through some sort of rainforest, he feels his heart rate begin to pick up as his head pounds and the lights start to flicker and the ringing of his ears gets too much, he’s so light, so light, until he’s so heavy and he’s falling against his bed and he’s sobbing. He’s crying so hard and he can’t even contain himself, he’s completely lost control, the image of himself he has carefully created for the world to see crumbles into dust. Just like that.

He cries and he cries because he is not meant to feel like this. This wasn’t allowed. His father would be so angry if he found out he had fallen in love with a man. He cries because he knows he cannot possibly have Brian. It hurts so much and it feels like he’s on fire and he doesn’t know how to put it out.

He tries to quiet himself down, stifle the sounds into the fabric of his pillow, for the sake of his sister. Even now he doesn’t want to bother her, not when this is a struggle he should be going through alone.

But his sister would follow him anywhere, and he hears his door creak open. He tries his absolute hardest to silence him.

“..Rog..” Rogerina coos at him gently.

He makes a folly attempt to appear asleep, but a pathetic sniffle ruins his endeavor.

She sighs and hops onto his bed, and lays next to him, and pulls him close for a hug, and it’s just that push for the dam to break.

“I.. love him,” Roger sobs violently into her chest, shrinking into her hold on him to try and make himself as small as he feels. He grabs on to her like a lifeline, shaking ferociously, in fear that if he lets go he’ll never stop falling.

Rogerina offers him a sad smile, “I know. And it’s okay. It’s okay, Rog, it’s okay to feel like this.”

“But it’s not,” He whimpers.

“It is, it absolutely is, Rog — it’s just love. It’s just love.”

Roger doesn’t say anything at that, and merely moves in closer, “I’m scared.”

“I know. And I’m here. I understand,” She whispers quietly.

She doesn’t leave him for a second that night.

Months later, maybe, and Roger is still falling.

It still feels sickeningly light to the stomach at times, and sometimes it makes his heart throb, but he’s learned to numb it and push it to the back of his mind where everything else is. He’s learned to control himself, and he’s painstakingly build up these walls around himself to keep himself from hurting too bad.

But there are still these moments where Brian makes it so difficult. Where he unknowingly swings a hammer and chips down at the walls he’s built for himself.

Moments like today.

Brian looks at the skies above and watches the stars shine.

Roger looks at his own star. But he’s on the ground with him.

They’re both buzzing. They’ve both had one too many. They’re piss drunk. It’s cold outside but they’re both still too warm.

He takes a long drag of the cigarette he’s smoking, and he’s surprisingly silent. He’s not like this. He’s loud and talkative but with Brian he just wants to soak everything in. When it’s all he can get.

“Look, I can see the corvus constellation..” Brian says softly, and when he speaks his eyes are so full of light and there’s that dumb smile of his and Roger can’t help his own smile.

He looks at him longingly. God how he wants him. Roger shifts uncomfortably, knowing full well that he’s just torturing himself, but how addictive the pain was.

But theres something that draws him to Brian. The whole universe is telling him to do this, like his destiny calls for it. And he knows it’s impossible. It’s not possible, they are too different on a molecular level. This is not how the story goes.

But when Brian turns over to look at him his eyes are so warm and those lips look so inviting, Roger collides with him and suddenly a star is born.

A whole new plane of existence opens up, and Roger feels like he’s exploring a whole new galaxy, everything is so exciting and so beautiful and he watches as planets collide and leave spacedust in its wake. Brian’s lips against his feel like they were always meant to be there, and he feels limitless.

But when he pulls away he is crushed by the gravity of what has happened, and it breaks his soul once he’s realises what he’s done. He has made a horrible landing back to reality and once he’s experienced the magic he just has everything is so much worse now.

Roger can’t breathe, “Bri.. I’m sorry, I—“

He can’t read Brian at all.

“I.. I need to go,” Roger says hurriedly, pushing himself off of his feet.

“Wait, Rog—“ Brian tries, only now returning to reality.

But Roger’s too far gone; and he runs like he’s never ran before. He doesn’t know where he’s going but at this stage he doesn’t care, he just can’t face him anymore, and in his drunken stupor he’s completely aimless.

All he can feel is the adrenaline pumping through his system and then suddenly he’s stuck.

And he just cries.

Until he hears a familiar voice.

“..Roger..?”

Jamie examines him, “..What are you.. doing.. in my rose bush?”

“I kissed Brian,” Roger slurs, still sobbing incoherently.

“Oh, sweetheart..” She coos softly.

“Who the hell is that in our rose bush?” Melina asks.

“A dumbass,” Roger sobs.

The two women help him release himself from the tangles of the bush, and once that’s done they drag him into their house, where they promptly drop him onto their couch.

“I’m sorry,” He cries pathetically.

Jamie smiles sympathetically, taking a seat next to him, “It’s okay.. darling.. just.. try and rest, okay?”

And the two of them talk to him for hours until he passes out.

Roger can’t face reality anymore. Everything’s too broken. Everything’s in ruins.

He tells Freddie over text that he’s caught the flu, and that he would just be complaining about Roger’s constant display of symptoms, and that he really doesn’t want to hear Freddie’s yapping. He tells John over the phone to not come visit him, because he doesn’t want his favourite bass player catching this too. And when Johanna tries and visits, he puts on a smile and tells her that he’s fine, that he just needs to get some sleep and he’ll be better soon.

But he doesn’t talk to Brian at all.

He doesn’t talk to him for three days.

He ignores all of his texts. There are hundreds of them at this stage and he doesn’t open one. And all of his calls. He ignores every single one. He ignores his worried knocking at the door, and the stones being thrown at his window. He locks the door when Rogerina lets Brian into the house. He just can’t face him. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.

He can’t even get out of bed.

And eventually he does attempt conversation with Brian again. But it’s empty and almost robotic. It’s rehearsed and emotionless. It’s like they’re complete strangers. Everything is worse now and Roger wishes it could return to how it used to be but he’s ruined it all. It’s just not the same.

He can’t face the music.

*** “God, Roggie — you’re in that jumper,” Rogerina sighs deeply.

Roger raises and eyebrow unamusedly, he’s wearing his glasses for once, gesturing towards a clearly well worn grey The Who jumper, which is also miles too large for him, “This? And? Your problem?”

Rogerina looks exasperated, “You always wear that when you’re sad and recluse. Last time you had that thing on you didn’t leave the house for a week! And last time you didn’t have friends.”

Roger is clearly unamused at that.

“Oh, come on, I’m being honest! Take it off and put on some jeans, get out of the house! And eat something, please! Talk to Brian! Fuck, talk to anyone! Just.. get out of here, okay?”

Roger is clearly unaffected by her pleads and merely sits himself on the kitchen table, looking completely null and void.

She softens, sighing and sitting herself next to him. He looks completely miserable. There’s no light in his usually sparkling eyes, he’s a ghostly pale, and he’s clearly been crying, and his hair is a mess. He’s such a stark contrast to the bubbly and energetic Roger that she’s grown to know.

She takes his hands in hers, wrapping her fingers around his, firmly, but in a way that shows that she isn’t letting him go. She strokes his hands gently. Her gaze is just as firm, and watchful, her focus is all on him. He struggles to look at her.

“..Roger..  please, love.. I know you’re hurting. And it breaks my heart, and if you really can’t have Brian.. would you really rather not have him in your life at all..? Is this worth completely losing him, dear? Because I don’t think it is. Do you remember who you were before you met him?”

Roger blinks, and slowly removes his glasses as he feels tears well up in his eyes. He bites harshly on his lips to prevent the cascading of them, and thinks about it. He doesn’t like the man he was before Brian. In fact, he’s a distant memory, a memory he doesn’t quite want to return to.

Roger thinks about it. And when he tries to place himself in his own head from those years ago, he only remembers loneliness. And fear. And so much rage. So much hatred. He tries to pinpoint the moment those feelings had begun to fade away, and all he can hear in his fucking head is Brian talking about constellations.

He doesn’t even understand them. But the emptiness is replaced by a sense of wholesomeness. He spent his teenage nights with a fucking radio as his best friend, longing and wishing to all the deities out there to give him a best friend, someone who he knew he could tell anything to, someone he could just feel safe with. And he has it now. And Roger feels so dumb for not appreciating that enough. He’s come so far he’s forgotten where he’s come from.

God, he can’t lose Brian because a life without him is so empty. It’s so dark. And it’s cold. And Roger hates the winter.

He feels so selfish and so ashamed of himself in this moment, because how did he let himself become so greedy? Why was he wanting more, when Brian was more than he ever deserved to begin with, how did he let himself get so entitled? He’s forgotten his place, but  fuck does it still hurt so, so much.

God, he wants him so bad. And he knows he can’t. But he can’t lose all of this over his own selfishness. He has to be better than that.

That’s enough, Roger. That’s enough now.

And is face crumples and he bursts into tears, unable to contain the pathetic noises he’s making, he tries to angle his face away from his sister, crying into his hands because dammit he’s still got his pride.

But she’s his darling sister and she sees past his bullshit and pulls him into her own touch, and holds him close, kissing him on the temples as he sobs his heart out.

“It’s alright, Rog.. it’s alright,” she tries to assure him as he cries into her chest.

“Fuck.. then why does it feel like nothing will be alright ever again?” He whimpers weakly. It feels like every star in the sky has been put out. It feels like someone has dismantled the sun and packed it away. He desperately wishes to return to a few days ago before he’s royally fucked up, but nothing is the same now. The walls have already caved in and he’s surrounded by its ruins. He can attempt and build over it but the damage has been done. History cannot be erased.

He wishes he could have tamed his heart. Told it to not yearn for what it can’t have. He doesn’t remember where he lost his way and thought that he could even have something this good. What was he expecting? He was not one of these people who got good things like this. He was born in filth. And he was to live in it. That good life was not made for him, and having had a taste of it has made the void hurt so much more because now he knows what he could have but cannot.

God dammit, Brian May, did you have to be an angel?

He exhales shakily. He’s terrified. But he’s not giving up on his band. They will not fail because he was too reckless with his own heart. The band will not suffer because Roger was too stupid to control himself. He couldn’t live with that. His hand lingers over the door knob, and he kicks himself once and lets himself through the door.

Roger can feel the air in the room shift once he   enters through the door, all eyes are on him. He inhales shakily, a chilling, buzzing sensation spreading across his chest. He turns over to see his band mates, and in particular, Brian, who’s mouth is agape.

Roger pushes aside all thoughts in his head, and tries to relax, and he puts on a show, he puts on a mischievous grin, “..Jesus, Bri, shut your fucking piehole before a fly comes and chokes you.”

And while he still feels like every wall has caved in, trying to replicate his old self brings him a sense of familiarity that does put him at ease. He knows he’s performing, but it’s all he’s ever known, and it feels like home.

Roger watches the wave of relief wash over Brian’s eyes, and he likes to think the walls are rebuilding themselves.

And Brian smiles that beautiful smile of his where it’s like the sun has decided to shine just for him, and Brian’s glowing and Roger can’t help but bask in that warmth.

Yes, Roger’s heart is aching but Brian is too good to loose.

It was but a silly fantasy to ever believe that Brian could ever be his, god, no way, not him, Roger is not meant to live in a pretty palace amongst royalty. He belongs to the stables and he is grateful he is even able to serve such royalty. His story just isn’t written that way.

Having Brian in his life at all is enough. It has to be enough.

Roger is still plagued by the sickly bittersweet fairytale of love and the idea of having Brian’s hand to hold, and the thought crushes him, and fuck Roger is hurting.

But he’d rather hurt every day of his life than not have him at all. A life without him is so empty and that life would absolutely shatter him. There is a magnetic connection, a molecular bond that draws and pulls him to Brian May, and he knows it’s going to hurt him, but he’s okay with it. He needs him in his life or the balance of the universe will tip against him. He needs him.

He’ll have to settle. And he thinks he’s okay with that.

He’ll make do. He always does.

[heroquills-a]

@crimsonxblur​ continued from  — 🌀 

      As it turned out, Elliott the statistician wasn’t all that bad for company after all. He was an odd little man, for sure, and way too bubbly for a government worker. He had no family, but made friends easily. He was transferred from station every few months, or so he said. It was his way of seeing as much of the world as he could, he said. He had many stories. Not the most original or entertaining ones, but his own innocent interest for them breathed them into life in a way very few seasoned story-tellers could manage.

     Shadow had warmed up to him when he’d unexpectedly spoken up in his favor and helped him be granted his prolonged Christmas vacation. It became apparent in the next few times the hybrid caught a glimpse of him that the guy just didn’t hold grudges or take offense to, well, anything. He was nice for the sake of being nice. So Shadow let him talk his ear out when they shared break time, because Elliott didn’t expect him to talk back, and he grew accustomed to the background noise.

     The statistician was reciting another instance of a time he’d caught the person training him making a mistake with their own private software - one among many others - when Shadow’s attention was completely hogged by the texts he received right then, effectively zoning out of his fellow agent’s story for an instant.

     What an oddly spontaneous offer. Granted, his last encounter with his rival might have left him hoping they could find some time and excuses to meet up before long, ideally without other people involved, this seemed… strangely specific. And it was pretty late, right ? Shadow had lost all sense of timekeeping with his irregular schedule over the past weeks, but he was pretty sure this could be classified as a very late-night text. Nonetheless…

     “Do you think I could get Thursday off ?” he asked Elliott, interrupting his story. True to himself, the man wasn’t bothered. In fact, he smiled knowingly.

     “You want Thursday off ?” He sounded surprised, in an amused sort of way. Shadow just shrugged.

     “Yeah, why ?”

     “You didn’t strike me as that… kind of person.” Shadow squinted at him with a mix of hostility and confusion, immediately prompting the other to just answer the question. “I don’t know. I expect a lot of people will have asked for the night off. That might work in your favor, though. If they’re running on minimum staff, they might just want you on standby, at most.”

     Shadow nodded slowly, mulling over those words, and shortly settled on an answer.

     [text]: can you come here ?      [text]: thursday i mean

     If he was to be on standby for the day, it meant he could expect to have most of it free, though the safest course of action also involved staying close enough to the station. It seemed like a good plan, it that much could work out. He waited for the little confirmation that his message was delivered, then looked back up at Elliott who still had that knowing smile plastered on his face. “Why would people ask for the day off on Thursday ?” Shadow asked offhandedly, sinking back into his seat, ready to revert to listening with half an ear.

     Except, his companion laughed. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

     “…Oh.”

     Right. He never took part in that, so it’d slipped his mind entirely. And he must not have been very good at hiding the sudden realization of what he’d probably, accidentally implied with the invitation he’d just sent, because Elliott laughed again. “Didn’t you know ?”

     “I…” Chaos, it felt like his ears were on fire. “It didn’t… occur to me.”

     “Did someone just trick you into a romantic dinner or what ?”

     Shadow wanted to hiss at him. “No. No, it’s fine, I just, need to-” He stood up and suddenly made his way out of the lounge, his mind running a little too fast for him to stay still. This guy trying to pry into his mishap certainly didn’t help, either. “…think of something.”

“Hookay...”

Okay okay okay.

Sonic pauses for the fifth time in the middle of pacing about the den, turning to face his phone which sat idly on one of the couch cushions.

Okay. He can do this. He’d already made up his mind- totally not because of a certain pink hedgehog’s insistent reminder- and he was just gonna be very casual about it. Shadow probably won’t even know what’s going on that day anyway, so it wouldn’t matter. They could just hang out, maybe watch a movie or something, or grab a bite- it would be totally harmless! Right?

Well, the speedster reaches for his phone and lets his thumbs fly away at the screen before he can chicken out again. Once he’s done, he tosses the device back onto the cushions and nyooms right into the kitchen. For some reason, just being in the same room as that thing after the texts are sent is enough to drive his nerves up the wall. As if they weren’t already going a little crazy just from the thought of proposing such an outing on a very specific date, anyway.

Sonic busies himself with throwing together a quick impromptu dinner for himself- fast bake fish sticks and chips. He didn’t think he could handle anything heavy right now if he wanted to.

He doesn’t bother returning to check his phone until after he’s finished eating. Maybe even taking his time (by Sonic’s standards) in a result of procrastination. Honestly, Sonic couldn’t figure out why he felt so nervous. Maybe it was just the idea that he was totally proposing a hang-out of some sort under the guise of it being casual and platonic when he knew fully well that Valentines Day was dominated by the romance scene and couldn’t know for sure if the person he intended to spend that day with would be aware of that factor too. 

Either way, there was no going back now. That fact was anchored in once he finally returns to the living room to see that name waiting for him on the phone’s lock screen. Inhaling and exhaling a few times, the blue blur checks the messages, immediately hit with a bunch of feelings so quickly he couldn’t quite discern what was most prominent. The implication that Shadow was interested in hanging out by itself set off a cloud of butterflies in the speedster’s stomach- prompting him to hide the tiny victorious smile that crept onto his face with the back of his hand.

Hanging out in White Acropolis was even better, too. It meant he wouldn’t be here that day and in turn wouldn’t be getting any gruff for not doing anything on Valentines Day from the others- especially from Amy. It was a win-win.

But with that notion came the sudden realization- he was really gonna do this then. For the first time, Sonic was actually gonna initiate plans on Valentines Day on his own accord, fully intending to spend it with someone he was very aware by now he had romantic feelings for. And had those feelings reciprocated back too, nonetheless.

It was the nerve-wracking understatement of the year, yet somehow he couldn’t deny the spark of excitement he felt. However obnoxious he found that specific holiday to be, it’d be his excuse to go out with Shadow again. That alone had the speedster nearly bouncing on his toes while he mulled over what to say back.

Man am I in deep...

[text]: Ssure! THats cool with me :) [text]: I’m not sure what all there is to do up there but yeah i was thinking we could do something fun haha [text]: Like a movie or something [text]: Maybe not an outd oor one this time tho? idk lol 😜  [text]: We could rent one maybe [text]: But yeah haha just throwing ideas out there if you think of anything lemme know

[epicmeetsfail]

Unknown Pleasures: The most august https://ift.tt/2NbjYb9

A friend from the midlands once lamented that she’d always lived there. How absurd it was to live on an island, but directly in the middle of it. I can now say, having lived in two coastal cities, that living on the edge of it is very much the same, except that there are much better chip shops and the rain is more … oceany.

It is currently hacking it down out there and I don’t want to go home in it. Join me once more than, readers, for our regular round up of the best new games on Steam that you’ll never see on a billboard. It’s Unknown Pleasures.

Gazing wistfully into the deep this week: algorithmic therapy, Scandinavian body horror, and the ol’ rotate and thrust.

Apsulov: End of Gods £15.49 / €16.79 / $20

First person horror games are usually terrible, and in all the same ways. This is great news for me because I hate them anyway so it makes very little difference, but someone’s only gone and made one I like. Apsulov is gruesome. Its very first scene is horrible, with you (an Alice, it turns out, which explains the latent magic powers) operated on by some robotic apparatus at the whim of an unseen, intensely threatening entity that’s very quick to anger. Something’s wrong with your throat, so you’re all gurgly and choking and it’s horrible, but for once it doesn’t feel sadistic (obviously the villain is sadistic, but the game doesn’t feel so. It’s meant to be horrible, not pornographic).

You escape, of course, and flee a facility, dodging muttering, screaming shamblemen, pursued by your tormentor’s evil beast, and piecing together where and who you are. Scientists have opened a sinister gate or screaming obsidian hellcube or some other thing that only a colossal fool would open, and apparently the Norse gods are involved somehow. Creeping, rapidly growing tentacles are poking through, gigantic valkyrie shields line one lab, and since your captor drilled something into your head, you have the power to see magical sigils. You’re important somehow, but how it all ties together is a mystery. This is all excellently done, and I’m genuinely intrigued to find out more. Even the occasional jump scares didn’t feel cheap, nor the pillar of the horror – that’s the dread and revulsion, and secondary to that, the wider horror of what this event means for earth in general.

I’m impressed. Oh, but the bloody keypads are a joke. You have to ‘use’ them and then take your hand off the mouse and use the arrow keys to type the numbers in. Deus Ex let us use the number pad nineteen years ago, damn it. Come on.

Exception £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

This wasn’t the game that sparked it, but I’ve had a right moan about “the 80s aesthetic” in games this week. Did you know it’s possible to style your game after something that isn’t synthwave and neon? It’s true, I saw a game do it once.

Exception is enthralling, though, and its presentation is a large part of that. It’s a simple action platformer, with a plot about emptying a woman’s computer from a load of viruses that I skipped entirely thanks to built-in options that I respect mightily. You’re a wee robot who dashes about obstacle courses, wall jumping, slashing up hostile robots, and generally dashing to the exit. Several times each level, you’ll touch a waypoint that reorients the whole level, zooming out and rotating and setting you back along the same course but upside down or along a different axis. It’s very cool and the movement flows freely and comfortably, including your attacks.

The vast majority of enemies are easily done in without altering your path, and you’re periodically given new attacks and powers that I didn’t bother with at all (frankly they seemed more trouble than they were worth). Occasional bosses take half a dozen hits and attack in simple enough patterns that they don’t disrupt things too much either. Everything’s bright and fast and spectacular, and even now, at synthwave saturation point, the soundtrack is a perfect accompaniment that drives you on when the wrong beats would undermine the action.

Phantom Rose £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

It’s another one. It’s another bloody deckbuilding roguelike. You’re doing it on purpose aren’t you?

Phantom Rose does things a little bit differently to the many others in its class. Typically in a deckbuilder you’ll draw a handful of cards and choose which to play. Here, there’s some kind of initiative system going on behind the scenes too. In each round of a fight, you and your opponent will line up cards (5 altogether, giving an advantage to one or the other of you). Yours are randomly chosen from your hand, but you can replace some or all of them from another hand drawn at the bottom of the screen. When you’re satisfied, you start the turn and cards play out from left to right.

There’s a big focus on status effects and buffs like Vampiric Whatever, which gives a chance of restoring health when you attack, or focus, which helps you break through defences. It may get complicated later but was easy to grasp for at least the first two floors. Your path goes along a grid from top left to top right, always (until you reach a map edge) offering two options. I didn’t get the sense that these make a drastic difference in terms of risk or reward, with the exception of occasional “maid” rooms, where you fight a powerful monster to free an amine maid (fairly mild on the tacky anime bullshit meter) who’ll reward you with a special item.

I like that one of the attacks lets you hit a monster with their own attack rating instead of yours. That’s a fun trick. It moves at a brisk pace too, and I even appreciate the artwork. All that red and white and black makes for a bold style.

It feels a bit too easy to run out of good attacking cards. But that might come down to practicing more.

Rashlander £2.89 / €3.29 / $4

Rashlander is a modern form of one of those old 2D rotate and thrust gravity games, whose names, aside from Thrust and Gravity Power, escape me. You pilot a wee ship about a sometimes absurdly hazardous area, aiming to land it on a warp pad to move on to the next level. Gravity and inertia are important tools and potential threats, as there’s a basic Newtonian physics system, making navigation tricky and rewarding. Your default ship (more are unlockable, although they’re balanced so that each presents its own challenge) is fragile and lives are limited. In case that wasn’t cruel enough for you, fuel is also highly limited, and when you run out you explode.

It’s bloody hard. I’m a bit rubbish at it. Each warp pad also offers an upgrade, although some have a downside (one increases fuel capacity but scrambles in-game text, an inventive and somewhat maddening invention), and some are a mixed blessing as they change the way the ship handles, which means re-learning on the fly, potentially under dangerous circumstances. While it’s not a cruel game, it’s somewhat antagonistic, although more for comic effect than anything. Levels have hidden collectables and bonus landing pads if you fancy a challenge, but it’ll likely be a while before you’re good enough to risk those as a matter of course.

Eliza £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

The cult of the algorithm is one of the biggest and most insidious disasters of our already disaster-laden era. Eliza is an exploration of this, and of the mental health crisis, and of tech startup ‘culture’, and of counselling. It’s a visual novel in which you play as Evelyn, a new recruit for the eponymous business, which is a counselling service in which all the counselling is done by an AI. The humans like Evelyn are just there to put a face on it, to the extent that they’re not allowed to say anything but whatever script the algorithms produce, based on a vast bank of heuristic data and the patient’s verbal analysis, biological data like heart rate, perspiration and so on. They can’t even interpret.

I did a bit of basic counselling training a long time ago. It’s something I’ve long been interested in, and have experienced and contemplated from many angles. I was all set to loathe Eliza simply for suggesting the idea, fearing the HIGNFY effect, that some absolute piece will get wind of it and not realise what a godawful idea this is.

And yet.

Within the very first session I was haughtily telling the system off for being an atrocious counsellor – outright lying to a patient, for one – but then the next chapter (they’re comfortably short) kicked in. Evelyn meets with an old, estranged friend for lunch, and their shared past is hinted at. She goes to a conference in which a key speaker is a former colleague, who announces that he wants to go further than Eliza, and roll out technology that will directly interface with a patient’s brain. It’s a hybrid of electroconvulsive therapy, VR therapy, and everything else Eliza already does. He also openly criticises the incredible and shameful ignorance the tech people have of psychological research that isn’t jazzed up with some faddy nerd bullshit (I paraphrased). And I’m hooked.

Much as I see the obvious downsides of this system (and not even addressing the issue of putting this in the hands of a private business, let alone a heap of silicon valley jebs)… is it actually worse than what we have now? If not this, then what are we gonna do, magically summon the hundred thousand competent and willing and experienced counsellors and doctors and therapists we need to deal with the absolutely appalling state of mental health treatment in, let’s face it, most countries?

Eliza is obviously the pick of the week.

I tangent. Eliza touched on all of the issues in under an hour. The personal story of Evelyn, the problems she had in her hold job, her own mental health, the troubles faced by her patients, their concerns with the system, its sinister dystopian possibilities, and, despite my distaste, its potential benefits. That’s not just a good idea, that’s a good idea someone really cares about and understands, and has the talent to write.

August 16, 2019 at 12:29PM

[ascendingdevillived456-blog]

Am I pessimistic or just real?

Most of the time I feel like I'm accidentally surviving my own life. Not to sound like I'm bitching, but I don't have any idea why I'm alive. I've been trying to keep my life simple, but found out that is a very complicated and arduous task. I, physically, am 30some years old, and deeply know my spirit or soul or life force or whatever you want to label it as is old as fuck. I'm a little odd, I've been told, but when you realize early in life that nobody anywhere knows what in the bluest bowels of Hell they are doing, you start making decisions that TRULY matter on a high, VERY HIGH, level of deep understanding. Not to sound like a preachy zealous god-freak, but preeeeetty fucking sure we live in and on the garden of eden as mentioned in that book written 2000ish years ago. You know the one, oh... it has that bearded guy in the middle east who was the Christian God's son, but was a Jewish king, a rabbi, a carpenter, and who led a gang of misfit trouble making hooligans that wanted to make life better for everyone and ended up dead and martyred for it and is currently the nearly-nude mascot for countless kitchens and bedrooms in thousands of American homes. Jesus, what is that guy's name.... anyways... that book. I'm not great with names, nor hiding sarcastic remarks or, OR blatant disregard for that which really does not matter.... uh, uh, uh, oh well. Back on topic now. Ready? On this "bestowed paradise" of Ours, there are a few shitty things that I just WILL NOT turn a blind eye to. I got this list, you see, that has the WORST possible inventions on it that the world could have done without. Number 1 is people... People are needy, greedy, dumb, panicky, self-centered, talking alien-ape hybrids that ruin and destroy almost every thing they put their grubby little peter-beaters on. We kill for thrill and pleasure alone or in packs and have this problem understanding what compassion and sharing equally are. I did two years of kindergarten, consecutively I will add, I know you are supposed to share and be nice or something like, oh I don't know, your behavior is checked, and you learn to play with others. And now number 2 (insert low-brow sophomoric butt-mud poop-shit-fart he he he coment here. I did, but think up your own.) my list. Borders. "We look different in skin color or you talk funny, uh oh, I no longer have trust other human being, stay away from my personal comfort zone. We'll be fair though and draw a line in the dirt in case you get the same vibe from me. Ok?" "Ok, good idea. Me and my family will kill you otherwise maybe, yeah, no, yeah. Stay away. Good job." Are you shitting literally me out of your dumb asses? Where is the logic and practicality in that. We let famine happen daily because, what? Noone knows what to do? Help your fucking human brothers and sisters, and the little ones if your heart has room, you apathy ridden bag of severed dicks. This is everyone's home right now, teach people who have no knowledge. There is no such thing as unteachable. Read between the lines here guys and dolls. Break time. Let me tell you that I'm not being a rude loud obnoxious Internet troll here, some of my rants and tangent ramblings have a twisted sense of humor and are meant to make you take a minute and chuckle at its finest absurdities. Oh my, but we can also be multitasking manimals and take some inventory of ourselves and the other manimals in our lives and have conversations with each other like we're meant to. Anyone over 27 will remember a time before everyone had a fucking idiot screen in their face at all times. (Heh, jokes to come.) What separated us from beasts is our ability to develope and utilize language. To any younger folks reading this: we used to sit at the same parties you all do now, and used our minds and speaking abilities to have a blast. I'm talking some wicked-awesome fucking ideas and fun times were had before the wedding of man and technology. Put the phone down, and step away from the screens. Please. Number thwee, sorry had, food in my...nevermind. money is next on my little list of things I see as wrong. If a person has a lot of money, they generally have a lot of stuff to make sure they're happy beyond worry. On the other end of the spectrum you have... anybody? Class! goddamn kids pay a-fucking-tention! You have a person with little to no money. I will spell this out for you and you know who: that person can't be happy beyond worry because, huh? Some people have been going ape shit on their own happy. Hmmm. Opposite of happy? Right, thanks Julien, smart guy you are, UNhappy. I hope I just made a Julien's mind blow apart. Lol. Now, monetary wealth is referred to as worth. If you gots like soooooo much worth like it's bananas and stuff, then your like totally worthwhile or worthy. Julien, let someone else try now, get your tongue out of my ass you brown-noser. If you ever want to be heart broken ask the poor kid at an elementary school how he feels after the first recess after Christmas break. I bet the word worthless crosses both your minds and you purse your lips and them real big empathy tears well up in your eyes. That kid is programed to think money and worth are the same thing, and will do what he or she can to make sure they ALWAYS HAVE money when they grow up otherwise everyone else will know they are worthless. Made myself cry a little bit there. Guns guns guns are 4 on this list which may make you laugh or at best pissed. In case you missed I'd be remissed if I didn't say you need to come up with your own rhymes and eloquence. Guns though are made for one thing; ending lives. Plain and simple, keep reading you left wingers and right wingers both. The eagle that is the U.S. of A needs you both to work together in order to soar. I have really upset myself with saying that, but it's out there now, ain't it? I feel everyone should have gun training and own a minimum of three guns open carry on a daily basis (we've already got them and they've seemed to dug their heels in so we might as well adapt with the fucking things.) A semi-auto rifle for hunting food, a shotgun for food/eminent defenses, and a pistol for protection of family and home. Common knowledge for everyone should be stated from an early age: IF YOU DRAW A FIREARM ON A FELLOW HUMAN BEING, BE SURE THAT YOU CAN MAKE THE CONCESSION THAT YOUR LIFE HOLDS MORE VALUE THAN THEIR'S THEIR POSSIBLE DEPENDENTS. DO NOT SHOOT TO MAIM. IF YOU DRAW, SHOOT, AND SHOOT TO KILL. REMEMBER THAT THEY ARE AWARE OF THIS TOO, AND IF YOU KILL THEM. YOU MUST LIVE WITH THE MEMORY OF YOU NEEDLESSLY TAKING A HUMAN LIFE BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT YOUR LIFE IS MORE IMPORTANT THEN THEIR'S. guns huh? 5. Prescription drugs. Pharmaceutical companies are not your friends. Especially in the world of psychological medication and pain management. I take aspirin on occasion, in my younger days I was always told I "needed something to help me." Help me do what? From the age of 11 until I was into my mid twenties I've been on damn near everything besides Haledol and Geodon. Thanks for being good dealers...I mean doctors and pharmacists. If you want to ask my diagnosis I will share, but let me say that I haven't taken nor would I recommend any person to give a child DRUGS. They are not safe because they are prescribed. Ritalin is molecularly identical to cocaine. No bullshit. They are training kids to be druggies later in life and parents and insurance companies pay for it. Act now and for $799.00 a month you won't k ow who you are, have bleeding of the teeth, lazy finger syndrome, backward stools, brain bleeding episodes, coma and death, but wait there's more. If that pill doesn't work simply tell us and we will give you some other stuff that will make sure your little boy grows tits like a woman and may have a compulsive gambling and or masturbatory addiction with possible suicidal ideation. At least he'll do better on his homework. Fast forward to early adulthood... "oh mummsy? Daddykins? Whatever do you mean I'm no longer on your insurance plans? I simply must have all these pills to be completely the best I can be." "Gee you can just acquisition the local the scumbags who clandestinely make and distribute the bad version of the same drug you've been on for your whole life, my golden child." And don't forget the ssri's. Google this shit kids: ssri's long-term effects on the mind and body. And finally number 6. Social networking. I've never had a Facebook, MySpace, twitter, or anything else. This site I found accidentally while bored and this is my first time posting anything anywhere. The negatively charged part of social media is shit like; omg I 8 a waffle cone with chokl8 chip cookie dough ice cream scoops. Kill yourself you fat cow. Oh boo hoo sad face.... So long cruelty of this place, I have been wearing my life inappropriately I've been informed. Good bye 14 years. Wrapping up at this point as I've said enough for now. I'll be that eccentric and hilariously unfiltered buddy of you get my styles here. Just need to vent sometimes. Help me with Tumblr if you're interested in that... I guess. Looking forward to seeing responses. It should be noted that I have the utmost respect for any religion but abhor the use of faith as a means to control and not gain a better relationship with divinity. I'm not a doctor or political ass hat. I'm a song writing free-spirited music loving real deal motherfucker. "And I didn't even graduate FROM fucking highschool." I.Q. is up a bit above above average. No, that is not a typo.

[eriebittle]

thanks @epickegster /jacinta for tagging me!! (also here are her answers in case u haven’t already read them and wish to i d k)

1. Who are you named after?

i was named after my mother’s college roommate, carolyn (and, scary part, get this, my mother’s name is catherine and her roommate’s name was carolyn?? well my name is carolyn and my college roommate’s name is katherine so um,)

2. Last time you cried?

i almost/basically cried during my modern class on friday?? like i was just, frustrated during class because i wasn’t really feeling inspired and my movement just didn’t flow or make sense and everyone else was like “this class is really doing wonders for my creativity and movement quality!!” and i had just, had the sudden realization that i didn’t belong anywhere?? i’m a double major, involved in both psych/neuroscience and dance. so when i’m in my science classes, i feel too artsy to be taken seriously, but i never feel creative enough in my choreo/dance classes (like, i’m overanalyzing things too much or something idk). so all that hit me like a ton of bricks because i felt like i didn’t belong in either of my majors and that i might be stretching myself too thin and haha which one are you going to stick with after you graduate carolyn!!!! you have to pick!!! now!!! because otherwise fellow dancers will never accept you and neither will your fellow researchers hahahahaaaa!!!

TL;DR: sad double major almost cried during dance class, was asked if she was okay by multiple friends after class, vehemently denied any accusations of being sad

3. Do you like your handwriting?

it’s o k a y but nothing special?? sort of like a sad, print-cursive hybrid, but legible

4. What is your favorite lunch meat?

deli meat chicken because, like, every day from age 6 to the day i graduated high school i ate 2 thin slices of deli meat chicken on whole grain bread (which i then flattened) for lunch every single day. no condiments or lettuce or anything- just me and a squished chicken sandwich

5. Do you have kids?

lol nah

6. Do you use sarcasm?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. Do you still have your tonsils?

ya

8. Would you bungee jump?

ya

9. What is your favorite kind of cereal?

multi grain cheerios no milk

10. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

hell no i don’t have time for that

11. Do you think you’re strong?

i have danced ballet for ~16 years and i’ve been en pointe for nearly 9 of those years so maybe?? sort of physically strong??  but i have zero upper body strength. sad! (not mentally tough tho dude i cry whenever anyone confronts me about anything)

12. What is your favorite ice cream?

mint chocolate chip!!! (but the ice cream has to be like, bright ass green for maximum mint flavor)

13. What is the first thing you notice about someone?

umm?? i’m not sure, but probably eyes/facial expression??

14. Football or baseball?

dude no i love both, equally, so much,

15. Your favorite sorting metrics?

that is, a good question, but i’m afraid that’s all we have time for folks,

16. What color pants are you wearing?

blue nike shorts

17. Favorite smell?

bedsheets str8 out of the dryer!! everything is so fresh and so clean, clean

18. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

my mother

19. Favorite sport to watch on tv?

football!! i love football. especially college football?? amazing. incredible. nebraska football, especially. even better. the best. 

(but live tho definitely baseball, it’s one of my favorite activities, driving out to kauffman stadium on a warm summer evening, hot dogs and peanuts and canned pepsi is all $1 each on certain nights and you just, sit and enjoy. you’re always with a few friends and family; the action on the field is just slow enough to enjoy while catching up but fast enough to really be invested in the sport itself. since baseball teams play over 100 games each season, losing one game typically doesn’t mean too much, so a loss from your favorite team isn’t too stressful; everyone’s having a good time, gracious in defeat but fuckin pumped after a win. on fridays after the game, there are always fireworks and just, the whole experience is gr8 from start to finish)  

20. Hair color?

light brown!! during the summer it gets some fun ~almost blonde~ highlights from the sun but generally light brown

21. Eye color?

blue

22. Favorite food to eat?

kansas city barbecue!! especially pulled pork sandwiches with a lot of tangy and spicy sauces, my absolute favorite

23. Scary or funny movies?

funny, because, i don’t enjoy being scared, not into that,

24. Last movie you watched?

oooh last night i watched friends with benefits?? bc my roommates and i had just gotten home from a late night run to arby’s for jamocha shakes (and please, folks, if u do nothing else have this shake sometime in ur life thank u) and we turned on the tv and long after my roommates fell asleep i just, kept watching because of justin timberlake and it was an average movie

25. What color shirt are you wearing?

grey

26. Favorite holiday?

i really like halloween; not all the scary parts, but the fun costumes!! and candy!! and socks. i have so many halloween socks. and i just like all the, fun, spooky things?? a good time

27. Wine or beer?

canadian ice wine ( @epickegster dude u had the same answer, and u get me, my dude, my homie, my bro)

but yeah ummm i don’t really have anyone to ~tag~ but if u wanna go for it then go for it!! i love getting to know people

[samanthasroberts]

5 Awesome Game Sequels That Were Screwed Over & Canned

Death, taxes, and AAA video game sequels: the only inevitable things in this world. If we didn’t get a new Call Of Duty or Assassin’s Creed this year, we would take it as an omen of Ragnarok — which is why it’s all the more tragic that some of the best potential sequels ever envisioned will never come to pass. Like …

#5. Fallout Online Got Lost In A Legal Quagmire

Long before Fallout 4 brought the mighty porn industry to its knees, pun remorselessly intended, the Fallout games put a lot more emphasis on the role-playing side of things, giving you a birds-eye view of a game that looks like it could be run with the processing power of an unusually large potato.

Not even an Idaho one — more like a Wisconsin-grown potato.

The early Fallout games were considered some of the finest RPGs ever made. But in 2007, Interplay, its creator, sold the franchise to Bethesda Softworks, the company of 10,000 artists and three voice actors. Part of the deal was that Interplay got to keep the rights to develop an MMO based on Fallout — think World Of Warcraft, but with super mutants instead of orcs.

A huge improvement on the sexiness scale.

This wasn’t just a pipe dream — large chunks of the map had been developed, the guts of the gameplay were functional, scenarios had been written, players had the ability to create and run their own towns, and Interplay had developed a “game-worldwide meta-puzzle,” where the entire player base would have to come together to solve an elaborate mystery that spanned the apocalypse. Basically, you know how all your friends won’t shut up about their Fallout 4 adventures? Fallout Online would have allowed you to have those adventures together, although it also would have vastly increased the likelihood of employers across the country seeing through your fake illness when you inadvertently grouped up with them.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

That deal we mentioned? It came with the condition that Interplay had to start getting serious about working on Fallout Online by 2009. All those words we just said up there implied that they had, but Bethesda disagreed and took Interplay to court. Long and complicated story short, Bethesda lost more decisions than the Washington Generals, but eventually managed to settle out of court, giving Interplay 2 million bucks and permission to continue developing their game — as long as they stripped every mention of “Fallout” from it.

Their knock-off Nuka-Cola would have been nothing but raw sewage and carbonated Brahmin blood … So, Pepsi.

Definitely Not Fallout Online was then handed over to another developer who ran a crowdfunding campaign to rustle up even more money, after which they, uh, vanished from the face of the Earth, taking every hope of a Fallout MMO with them (and also the money of all those loyal fans).

Dickheads? Dickheads never change.

#4. A Completed Star Fox 2 Was Canned Because Of The Console Wars

Star Fox, the game that birthed a generation of furries, and Star Fox 64, the game that birthed a generation of frog-hating barrel roll enthusiasts, are both universally regarded as classic Nintendo games that look like the aftermath of a drunken polygon party by today’s standards. But another game was supposed to have come out in-between them, appropriately titled Star Fox 2. And it looked pretty damn good …

Instead of just being a linear series of ship battles, Star Fox 2 would have had you flying around the solar system to contain an invasion force. You had to pick your battles, defend your home planet from missiles, and retreat from fights to dive into others that needed you more, adding strategy and exploration to a game whose only weak point was its on-rails nature. There was also a multiplayer duel option, and the Star Fox team would have expanded to include a tomboy lynx and a fashionable poodle girl. And we think everyone can agree that the male-dominated Star Fox team needed some ladies to balance out the space combat gender gap and help guide some animal-loving players through a very special time in their lives.

Someone’s about to make a Slippy in their pants.

Once you tear your eyes away, you may start wondering why basically everything is known about a game that got the ax. Well, the game was all finished and set to be released in the summer of 1995 until it was abruptly cancelled, which is like watching your mom pull a fresh batch of chocolate-chip cookies out of the oven, only to dump them in the garbage bin and cover them with cat vomit.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Star Fox 2 was all set to be a hit, partially because Nintendo in the ’90s could have slapped their name on a box of venomous centipedes and still sold a million copies. But, the Nintendo 64 was about to come out, and Nintendo wanted a clean break between the Super Nintendo’s two dimensions and the N64’s bold new future of one more than that.

A strategy that never, ever bit them in the ass. Ever.

Also, the Sega Saturn and Sony PlayStation had just come out, and Nintendo was worried that their newfangled 3D games would make Star Fox 2 look shitty and old-fashioned by comparison, regardless of how fun it was. And so they pulled the plug, losing money and scuttling a couple years of hard work because graphics were more important than gameplay, even in an era when every 3D game you played made you feel like you had cyber-glaucoma.

Rats, in this case, being Nintendo’s accountants.

#3. Fez 2 Became The Casualty Of A Twitter Spat

Indie game Fez, whose tumultuous five-year development earned its own Wikipedia page, was primarily powered by designer Phil Fish, who was quite outspoken about how game design may not always be kitten snuggles and rainbows. But, Fez overcame long odds to sell more than a million copies and become highly regarded as an ingenious platforming puzzle game. A sequel seemed inevitable, and, sure enough, along came a teaser video with suitably epic music …

… and then Fish canned the game a month after announcing it, to the complete shock of everyone who wasn’t named Phil Fish.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

When Fish refused to comment on Microsoft’s new Xbox One indie game development policies, obscure gaming journalist Marcus Beer decided that this was an egregious affront against humanity. Beer said Fish was “bitching and moaning” about having to answer media questions. He also called Fish a “fucking asshole,” a “fucking hipster,” and a “tosspot,” which we’re pretty sure is British for something along the lines of “not a great dude.” Fish responded on Twitter in the most mature and responsible way that platform allows: by telling Beer to go kill himself.

Yet another stupid fight started with Beer consumption.

When the dust settled, Fish declared, “I fucking hate this industry,” cancelled the game, announced his exit from game development, and took his ball home.

Leaving disappointed fans to tell him where he could put it.

Fish later clarified that the cancellation of Fez 2 wasn’t “due to any one thing,” implying that Beer’s comments were simply the straw that broke the fish’s back.

… said the boorish fuck.

But, regardless of other contributing factors, it was a stupid Twitter spat that ultimately killed the game. Seriously, social media, is there anything you don’t ruin?

#2. A Mario Volleyball Game Was Cancelled For Violating A Vague Honor Code

Mario is one of the greatest athletes to ever fictionally exist. From golf, tennis, and go-karting to baseball, basketball, and more, he has mastered countless sports, despite looking like his favorite is amateur hot dog eating. So, when Next Level Gamers started working on a Mario volleyball game with the premise of “Hey, Mario hasn’t played volleyball yet,” they must have felt pretty good about their odds of success — especially since they had already made their mark with two Super Mario Strikers games that were praised for combining the tedium of soccer with the physics of Space Jam.

At least it gives Waluigi something to do in between bouts of never doing anything.

Then, they threw in elements of professional wrestling and game shows to make the weirdest hybrid this side of a stoner’s kitchen. Nintendo’s beloved characters were going to spike balls into faces and pile-drive each other into the floors of electrified rings in the insane genre mash-up you never knew you wanted. At best, it would have been a glorious, surreal combination of ideas that monopolized your weekends like so many go-kart races and tennis matches before it. And, at worst, it would have provided fleeting amusement before your inevitable demise, which is all we can really ask of a video game.

It honestly makes about as much sense as actual wrestling, so why not?

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Nintendo felt that “certain aspects of [the game’s] premise clashed with the company’s code of honor,” because Nintendo apparently operates under the same principles as the French Foreign Legion. Just what Nintendo meant is vague, but we do know that they were uncomfortable with the level of violence in the game and considered it “dishonorable” to be able to hit characters that were already down. Behold the incredible, stomach-churning combat that Nintendo found unsettling:

What happened to wholesome entertainment, like ripping turtles out of their shells and slowly digesting Goombas alive?

Their objections mostly just raise further questions, considering one of their most successful franchises is all about having their most popular characters mercilessly pummel the absolute shit out of each other. Maybe volleyball is just really unpopular in Japan. Or, maybe the video game industry is terrifyingly arbitrary, and it’s a wonder anything ever gets made at all. Or, maybe both!

#1. Silent Hills Was Cancelled Because Konami Thinks Mobile Gaming Is The Future

Doubly so if they included an alternate skin of his fashion model days.

The hype train gained further steam with the release of P.T., a playable teaser (oooh, we just got that), where you stroll through the same hallway repeatedly and watch your home slowly get more and more horrifying.

Home Alone took a dark turn once Kevin found Buzz’s stash of mushrooms.

There was no combat, almost no dialogue, a simple plot, and little interaction beyond discovering what fucked-up thing was now in your bathroom. And it was still widely considered one of the best horror games of the year. That’s like a movie trailer beating actual movies for the Best Picture Oscar. It was a legitimately terrifying experience and, if the full game was able to match its intensity, it would have been an instant classic.

“Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to devour my flesh and feast on my soul.”

And then it was cancelled, the ability to download P.T. was removed, and developer Konami is now hunting down anyone who still references its existence and sending them to re-education camps. Run! Save yourself, before it’s too late!

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Konami thinks traditional games just aren’t worth the effort anymore. This is the Silent Hill game they decided to make instead.

Yes, that’s a Silent Hill-themed slot machine set to music that’s rocking junior high schools across Midwest America. We completely understand if you need a minute for the tears to stop. Konami actually makes more money from their casino games than they do from video games, and they think mobile games represent the only profitable future in the latter department.

Three Pyramid Heads nets you 50,000 points and your grandma’s head on a pike.

OK, so it’s a cold yet rational business decision. Disappointing, but understandable. But, wait a second — Metal Gear Solid V, a game that was anticipated as much as Silent Hills, made more money in its opening weekend than Jurassic World and Avengers: Age Of Ultron. Combined. It’s a massive hit, leaving Konami’s logic inscrutable. Between deciding they don’t like making games anymore, cutting ties with long-time collaborator Kojima, and making Del Toro say that he’ll never work on a video game again, it’s like Konami’s having a midlife crisis where they quit their job, divorce their spouse, alienate their friends, and hit the open road on a brand-new type of motorcycle that runs solely on spite.

Ready to see the kind of shit we got instead? Then check out Seanbaby’s The 20 Worst NES Games Of All-Time and The 6 Worst Games Ever Farted Out By Beloved Franchises.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/5-awesome-game-sequels-that-were-screwed-over-canned-2/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/07/25/5-awesome-game-sequels-that-were-screwed-over-canned-2/

[allofbeercom]

5 Awesome Game Sequels That Were Screwed Over & Canned

Death, taxes, and AAA video game sequels: the only inevitable things in this world. If we didn’t get a new Call Of Duty or Assassin’s Creed this year, we would take it as an omen of Ragnarok — which is why it’s all the more tragic that some of the best potential sequels ever envisioned will never come to pass. Like …

#5. Fallout Online Got Lost In A Legal Quagmire

Long before Fallout 4 brought the mighty porn industry to its knees, pun remorselessly intended, the Fallout games put a lot more emphasis on the role-playing side of things, giving you a birds-eye view of a game that looks like it could be run with the processing power of an unusually large potato.

Not even an Idaho one — more like a Wisconsin-grown potato.

The early Fallout games were considered some of the finest RPGs ever made. But in 2007, Interplay, its creator, sold the franchise to Bethesda Softworks, the company of 10,000 artists and three voice actors. Part of the deal was that Interplay got to keep the rights to develop an MMO based on Fallout — think World Of Warcraft, but with super mutants instead of orcs.

A huge improvement on the sexiness scale.

This wasn’t just a pipe dream — large chunks of the map had been developed, the guts of the gameplay were functional, scenarios had been written, players had the ability to create and run their own towns, and Interplay had developed a “game-worldwide meta-puzzle,” where the entire player base would have to come together to solve an elaborate mystery that spanned the apocalypse. Basically, you know how all your friends won’t shut up about their Fallout 4 adventures? Fallout Online would have allowed you to have those adventures together, although it also would have vastly increased the likelihood of employers across the country seeing through your fake illness when you inadvertently grouped up with them.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

That deal we mentioned? It came with the condition that Interplay had to start getting serious about working on Fallout Online by 2009. All those words we just said up there implied that they had, but Bethesda disagreed and took Interplay to court. Long and complicated story short, Bethesda lost more decisions than the Washington Generals, but eventually managed to settle out of court, giving Interplay 2 million bucks and permission to continue developing their game — as long as they stripped every mention of “Fallout” from it.

Their knock-off Nuka-Cola would have been nothing but raw sewage and carbonated Brahmin blood … So, Pepsi.

Definitely Not Fallout Online was then handed over to another developer who ran a crowdfunding campaign to rustle up even more money, after which they, uh, vanished from the face of the Earth, taking every hope of a Fallout MMO with them (and also the money of all those loyal fans).

Dickheads? Dickheads never change.

#4. A Completed Star Fox 2 Was Canned Because Of The Console Wars

Star Fox, the game that birthed a generation of furries, and Star Fox 64, the game that birthed a generation of frog-hating barrel roll enthusiasts, are both universally regarded as classic Nintendo games that look like the aftermath of a drunken polygon party by today’s standards. But another game was supposed to have come out in-between them, appropriately titled Star Fox 2. And it looked pretty damn good …

Instead of just being a linear series of ship battles, Star Fox 2 would have had you flying around the solar system to contain an invasion force. You had to pick your battles, defend your home planet from missiles, and retreat from fights to dive into others that needed you more, adding strategy and exploration to a game whose only weak point was its on-rails nature. There was also a multiplayer duel option, and the Star Fox team would have expanded to include a tomboy lynx and a fashionable poodle girl. And we think everyone can agree that the male-dominated Star Fox team needed some ladies to balance out the space combat gender gap and help guide some animal-loving players through a very special time in their lives.

Someone’s about to make a Slippy in their pants.

Once you tear your eyes away, you may start wondering why basically everything is known about a game that got the ax. Well, the game was all finished and set to be released in the summer of 1995 until it was abruptly cancelled, which is like watching your mom pull a fresh batch of chocolate-chip cookies out of the oven, only to dump them in the garbage bin and cover them with cat vomit.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Star Fox 2 was all set to be a hit, partially because Nintendo in the ’90s could have slapped their name on a box of venomous centipedes and still sold a million copies. But, the Nintendo 64 was about to come out, and Nintendo wanted a clean break between the Super Nintendo’s two dimensions and the N64’s bold new future of one more than that.

A strategy that never, ever bit them in the ass. Ever.

Also, the Sega Saturn and Sony PlayStation had just come out, and Nintendo was worried that their newfangled 3D games would make Star Fox 2 look shitty and old-fashioned by comparison, regardless of how fun it was. And so they pulled the plug, losing money and scuttling a couple years of hard work because graphics were more important than gameplay, even in an era when every 3D game you played made you feel like you had cyber-glaucoma.

Rats, in this case, being Nintendo’s accountants.

#3. Fez 2 Became The Casualty Of A Twitter Spat

Indie game Fez, whose tumultuous five-year development earned its own Wikipedia page, was primarily powered by designer Phil Fish, who was quite outspoken about how game design may not always be kitten snuggles and rainbows. But, Fez overcame long odds to sell more than a million copies and become highly regarded as an ingenious platforming puzzle game. A sequel seemed inevitable, and, sure enough, along came a teaser video with suitably epic music …

… and then Fish canned the game a month after announcing it, to the complete shock of everyone who wasn’t named Phil Fish.

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

When Fish refused to comment on Microsoft’s new Xbox One indie game development policies, obscure gaming journalist Marcus Beer decided that this was an egregious affront against humanity. Beer said Fish was “bitching and moaning” about having to answer media questions. He also called Fish a “fucking asshole,” a “fucking hipster,” and a “tosspot,” which we’re pretty sure is British for something along the lines of “not a great dude.” Fish responded on Twitter in the most mature and responsible way that platform allows: by telling Beer to go kill himself.

Yet another stupid fight started with Beer consumption.

When the dust settled, Fish declared, “I fucking hate this industry,” cancelled the game, announced his exit from game development, and took his ball home.

Leaving disappointed fans to tell him where he could put it.

Fish later clarified that the cancellation of Fez 2 wasn’t “due to any one thing,” implying that Beer’s comments were simply the straw that broke the fish’s back.

… said the boorish fuck.

But, regardless of other contributing factors, it was a stupid Twitter spat that ultimately killed the game. Seriously, social media, is there anything you don’t ruin?

#2. A Mario Volleyball Game Was Cancelled For Violating A Vague Honor Code

Mario is one of the greatest athletes to ever fictionally exist. From golf, tennis, and go-karting to baseball, basketball, and more, he has mastered countless sports, despite looking like his favorite is amateur hot dog eating. So, when Next Level Gamers started working on a Mario volleyball game with the premise of “Hey, Mario hasn’t played volleyball yet,” they must have felt pretty good about their odds of success — especially since they had already made their mark with two Super Mario Strikers games that were praised for combining the tedium of soccer with the physics of Space Jam.

At least it gives Waluigi something to do in between bouts of never doing anything.

Then, they threw in elements of professional wrestling and game shows to make the weirdest hybrid this side of a stoner’s kitchen. Nintendo’s beloved characters were going to spike balls into faces and pile-drive each other into the floors of electrified rings in the insane genre mash-up you never knew you wanted. At best, it would have been a glorious, surreal combination of ideas that monopolized your weekends like so many go-kart races and tennis matches before it. And, at worst, it would have provided fleeting amusement before your inevitable demise, which is all we can really ask of a video game.

It honestly makes about as much sense as actual wrestling, so why not?

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Nintendo felt that “certain aspects of [the game’s] premise clashed with the company’s code of honor,” because Nintendo apparently operates under the same principles as the French Foreign Legion. Just what Nintendo meant is vague, but we do know that they were uncomfortable with the level of violence in the game and considered it “dishonorable” to be able to hit characters that were already down. Behold the incredible, stomach-churning combat that Nintendo found unsettling:

What happened to wholesome entertainment, like ripping turtles out of their shells and slowly digesting Goombas alive?

Their objections mostly just raise further questions, considering one of their most successful franchises is all about having their most popular characters mercilessly pummel the absolute shit out of each other. Maybe volleyball is just really unpopular in Japan. Or, maybe the video game industry is terrifyingly arbitrary, and it’s a wonder anything ever gets made at all. Or, maybe both!

#1. Silent Hills Was Cancelled Because Konami Thinks Mobile Gaming Is The Future

Doubly so if they included an alternate skin of his fashion model days.

The hype train gained further steam with the release of P.T., a playable teaser (oooh, we just got that), where you stroll through the same hallway repeatedly and watch your home slowly get more and more horrifying.

Home Alone took a dark turn once Kevin found Buzz’s stash of mushrooms.

There was no combat, almost no dialogue, a simple plot, and little interaction beyond discovering what fucked-up thing was now in your bathroom. And it was still widely considered one of the best horror games of the year. That’s like a movie trailer beating actual movies for the Best Picture Oscar. It was a legitimately terrifying experience and, if the full game was able to match its intensity, it would have been an instant classic.

“Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to devour my flesh and feast on my soul.”

And then it was cancelled, the ability to download P.T. was removed, and developer Konami is now hunting down anyone who still references its existence and sending them to re-education camps. Run! Save yourself, before it’s too late!

The Stupid Reason It Was Cancelled:

Konami thinks traditional games just aren’t worth the effort anymore. This is the Silent Hill game they decided to make instead.

Yes, that’s a Silent Hill-themed slot machine set to music that’s rocking junior high schools across Midwest America. We completely understand if you need a minute for the tears to stop. Konami actually makes more money from their casino games than they do from video games, and they think mobile games represent the only profitable future in the latter department.

Three Pyramid Heads nets you 50,000 points and your grandma’s head on a pike.

OK, so it’s a cold yet rational business decision. Disappointing, but understandable. But, wait a second — Metal Gear Solid V, a game that was anticipated as much as Silent Hills, made more money in its opening weekend than Jurassic World and Avengers: Age Of Ultron. Combined. It’s a massive hit, leaving Konami’s logic inscrutable. Between deciding they don’t like making games anymore, cutting ties with long-time collaborator Kojima, and making Del Toro say that he’ll never work on a video game again, it’s like Konami’s having a midlife crisis where they quit their job, divorce their spouse, alienate their friends, and hit the open road on a brand-new type of motorcycle that runs solely on spite.

Ready to see the kind of shit we got instead? Then check out Seanbaby’s The 20 Worst NES Games Of All-Time and The 6 Worst Games Ever Farted Out By Beloved Franchises.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-awesome-game-sequels-that-were-screwed-over-canned-2/