#but I'm pretty sure most of the violence out here is committed by people doing other crimes.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Living downtown in a major city is like, "Were those 3 rapid shots fireworks (in February??) or gunshots?"

Very similar to living in buttfuck nowhere, except here it's almost certain that gunshots mean a person is dead, whereas in the sticks it means someone got tired of their dog barking at a raccoon or opossum and fired 3 shots into the woods.

[seat-safety-switch]

"Aren't you worried about your brand?" asks Josh, the prototypical hominid who was formed in a vat this very morning. Even though scientists have conclusively proven they don't have souls, it is still not okay to commit violence upon their unpersons.

Back on my first cycle, society actually used real humans as internet marketing experts. It was cruel, for sure, but we had no other options. Initial experiments in training dogs to do it had raised the ire of every animal-rights group from here to Baltimore (inclusive,) but you can always find someone desperate enough to work a dirty, demeaning job. A job like search-engine optimization.

"Can you hop on a call to discuss your content strategy?" begs Josh, possibly out of fear. Judging from the look of his skin, he is probably at most six hours old, and nobody has told him what is going on. Sure, maybe he heard from a couple of the older clones in the back of the U-Haul® on their way to my neighbourhood. Just rumour and innuendo, like a schoolyard gossip mill. If I agreed, he wouldn't know how to hop on a call, or even what one was.

Believe me, I've tried talking to them before. Although annoying, I genuinely am confident that the protos are a lifeform that deserves respect. Same reason I try to help earthworms back onto the lawn after a rainstorm. All life is valuable, and unlike previous generations, none of these synthetic non-people asked to go into such a horrific industry.

Josh can tell that he is losing me. He has never experienced failure before, not since he came out of the basic education creche in the factory. He begins to weep, which is honestly pretty brave of him because I hadn't thought they worked out the bugs with that whole system yet. I am nothing if not sympathetic, so I offer him a way out.

"Do you want to go to the junkyard with me? You can hold the flashlight," I ask. He responds with a tearful look of pure glee. It's always easy getting these suckers to do what you want. Tonight, I'll let Josh sleep in the backyard, but not out in the open. Don't want the neighbours thinking that I'm starting up some kind of e-commerce scam.

[stuck-writing-sickos]

Slick (yandere coworker)

ONE

[Masterlist]

T/w: suggestive, violence, gore

So you got jokes, don't you now?

You notice my keen interest, and it makes you nervous. I'm sorry to see your darting eyes searching for an escape whenever I approach you, but that is all I will be sorry for. You see, I don't care if you find me off-putting: I like to see whichever way you react.

I have drifted through a couple of countries. I assume so have you. Cultures may vary, but under laws, social etiquettes, cuisine and fashion, we all aren't so different. We eat and sleep. We feel good when we get what we want, and we feel bad if we don't. And since not everyone is aware of how similar we are, most of us like people who agree with us a little (or sometimes, unfortunately, a lot) more than the rest. You would assume I am a cynic, but I in fact celebrate this persistent likeness among us all. I think it is humanity. Wouldn't you agree?

And what I rejoice in even more so is the effort that we put into controlling these primal instincts. Self control - a rare and remarkable virtue. You work hard on it: punctual, courteous, and moderate on all front. I like to see it, the way you resist your emotions at any given point to upkeep this image. What minotaur are you keeping away in this intricate prison you have built? Let me in.

You see, I don't want to sleep with you. Sure... it would be nice, but that isn't my end-goal at all. If I were to, it would have been out of morbid curiosity. I want more than sex. I need to know you like an autopsy. I want to cut you open, peeling through your skin, cutting through your muscles, and opening you up to take a look at the way your organs are arranged. I will be precise, I promise, in both slicing you open and sealing you back up. All I want to do is look.

With how wary you are around me, I didn't expect for you to say yes to dinner. Maybe you were sick of eating alone, or maybe you just felt rude not to. Either way, I could tell that whichever reasons compelled you, it wasn't about me at all. No matter.

Again, this isn't about you.

You courteously ordered the mid-range price item. I asked if you were sure. You said you liked that dish. Do you, now? I didn't correct you. You refused wine, even when you were not driving home. You didn't think I would notice you coming in from an Uber, did you? I pretended not to see you coming in - you're not the sole clever one between us. I didn't push it anyhow. I liked what I was seeing: you were cautious and observant, safe under you soft-spoken exterior.

You asked me questions. You wanted to know where I grew up, if I had any siblings, how college was for me,... so on and so forth. You didn't answer any of mine - not really. I got a little antsy, I admit. Not every day do I see someone not keen on talking about themselves.

So you got my history and I got that you grew up "pretty far from here", that your hometown was "quaint but charming", that you went to college for "a degree you "aren't even practicing right now". Funny. You got jokes, don't you? You gave me a little taste of my own medicine. I felt as if we were trying to meet eyes through our own microscopes.

I didn't push you to open up. I thought entertaining your questions would loosen your guard eventually, but you were committed to your fortress. Fine... all good. I could still watch the way you move, precise and gentle as you maneuver around the table with candles, empty glasses and flower vase. You were too smooth, as if holding back a force. It was as if I was looking at a pressure cooker. This level of management implied, at least - from my humble opinion - a boiling chaos from underneath. After all, equilibrium can only be attained by equal forces.

You kept yourself so effortlessly mysterious, it made me wonder why you would even go on this date with me. I bumbled my way through the food and dessert, antsy and eager to see a crack on your mask to no use. I suppose you got into my head... not the other way around. Still, you kept me going - your elusiveness thrilled me.

As I said, I like anomalies.

You got me so good, that by the end of the night past all the talking and electricity, my confidence took such a hit that I offered to drive you home with my tail between my legs. I would love to say I was taking it slow, that I was enjoying the process of solving the puzzle that you were, but truth is I was ashamed of myself. You didn't unravel the way I hoped you would, and I protected myself with the conviction that you were a robot, and that I wasn't that interested in your process after all.

So you could imagine the surprise when you tilted your head with the most deviously clueless look and said "really? I didn't think I was going home."

[seneitut]

Hii!!! I found your work and i LOVE it so much! especially the wordcount!!

if its ok can i request gekko x freader but the f reader is really dom? assertive like gekkos talking but stutters so much and forgets what hes saying when she like looks at him the wrong way **doesnt have to b nsfw but whatever works thanks!

“Quietness”

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

[Gekko/F!Reader]

Words: 9K (I'm so sorry is this freaking long)

Tags: Fluff, violence, deaths, teachnicality of the game because I miss Ice box, slow-burn, NSFW (+18), Dom!Reader, Sub!Gekko.

[It seems I didn't know how the queue works because I thought this was posted days ago im so sorry gfjnfghgh

You can skip the nsfw part when the words are bold like this, its near the end!]

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

The silence that envelops the common room is ringing deep inside his ears. 

Vibring, trembling, deafening. 

Gekko hates the silence. A reasonable amount, you could say, to not be able to stand it to the point he wants to rip his brain into shreds to stop the thinking and not process the buzzing.

It brings memories he tries to suppress, echoing within the silence and rolling like a corrupted movie behind his eyelids over and over again. Gekko grunts in discomfort, trying to dissipate the images by rubbing his eyes with force until it stings but that doesn’t deter the silence to swallow him whole. 

Since when has he become this dramatic.

He whines loudly, head thrown back, “Why is it so quiet in here, dios!” But finds not even the echo of his voice filling the void.

Most of the agents have left for missions earlier that day, leaving only the most reclusive people at the base alongside him, hence the quietness. 

And it is not like he didn’t want to go—he’s always eager to accompany his allies in battle and have the time to bond with them through killing their counterparts— but the reasoning of Brimstone when assigning the teams is based on whether or not their powers and abilities compliment each other and not how well they get along.

KAY/O and Skye were out on two different teams, so his kits were not really necessary for the mission at all. Sova was out of commission until further instructions after getting injured and Fade was…well, he doesn’t know her whereabouts, but she must surely be busy with something else instead of hanging out with him.

They are on pretty good terms thanks to Neon, so he doubts she would avoid him on purpose. The only reasonable option would be that she was busy. And Breach? Breach is Breach, the man is unable to stay still in one place so he must definitely be either hitting the gym or committing crimes. Not really of his taste.

That only left him, the last initiator, back at home. 

Most of the sentinels were with him at the base; but like the cliché they are, none of them were eager to share their spaces with others nor entertain him in, how did Chamber put it…´dumbassery´ of sorts. 

Rude, honestly. Gekko is not at fault that they don’t know how to have fun outside missions. 

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

Whipping his head around, he finds you leaned on the doorway with a clipboard on hand. The dark shades you’re wearing do not give away whether you’re surprised or emotionless to his presence here, which, in retrospect, wasn’t important to know. 

He’s just happy someone is here to make the silence go away.

“I’ve got no missions today!” Turning his body around, he rests his head on the back of the couch to get a better view of you without breaking his neck. “I thought you left with Sage hours ago. Weren’t you going to…uh, what was it called…”

Frowning in concentration, he tries remembering the name of the place you were to set off, but none came to mind. Ice cube? Ice mountain? It had something to do with ice and something something…right?

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from your thinking alone.” The subtle smirk on your face was noticed by him, pouting by the teasing. “Sage is unable to go to Ice box with me.”

“Ice box, that’s it!” Sitting down on the couch next to him, he continues. “So, what's up? Change of plans now?”

Nodding, you go through the pages in the clipboard before raising your eyesight to him. Gekko seems eager, if not a little energetic for someone who has nothing to do. He seems expectant as well, jittery and a little fidgety with how often he toys with his gloves.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you ponder whether it's a viable idea to ask him to duo with you on the task that was assigned. Although you don’t have the energy to deal with someone like him: a little chatterbox and full of energy; his abilities might come in handy if the situation calls for it.

But this is an important mission, and you haven't worked with Gekko before. It would be a gamble whether the mission goes well or not and you’re not sure if you want to put something this important on line.

Gekko waves his hand in front of your face, a frown apparent on his features, “Hola? Are you okay there?”

Avoiding his question you decide to deflect it with another one, “Do you know where Cypher is?”

“In his room I think? I tried going in but I got tangled with his tripwires at the entrance and he just shut me off.” Crossing his arms, he sighs. “I’m kind of tempted to think he doesn’t like me very much.”

No shit. Who goes inside another’s bedroom without asking first? And Cypher, above all, is such a secretive man it is no wonder he loves to hide his secrets under lock and blackmail to keep it safe; the worst person to skip over pleasantries and ignorance was him. 

Gekko has pissed him off, then. Great. Out of options.

“So he is in no mood, got it.” 

“What do you even need him for? Such a grumpy man to work with.”

With no desire to argue, you leave Gekko to run his mouth about why he is so pissed about most sentinels at the protocol and how little social life they all have to be wasting it holled up in their rooms.

The need to defend Cypher is big, but you know the man has cameras all over the place and you don’t want to say something out of pocket in his presence—digital presence, in truth—or worse, out yourself with the soft spot you have for the secretive man.

Cypher wouldn't let it die down.

“...And you know, I tried speaking with Brimstone about having activities inside the protocol to strengthen our partnership, friendship, whatever the heck we are so we can be more trusting to each other!” Rolling his eyes, he huffs loudly. “But he said no, because this is not a fraternization house and I should take my work more seriously.”

“He is not wrong.” You comment absently.

“But I feel like it is necessary!” He continues. “How can we be a team if we aren't on friendly terms?”

“Not everyone will be your friend, Gekko.” Sighing, you stand up and begin to leave. “You cannot force yourself into others just to fulfill your need to get along. If it happens, happens, if it doesn't work, just let it be.”

“B-but, wait! Where are you going?”

Raising the clipboard, you move it slightly to let him know you still have things to do instead of indulging in his little chat. 

“I'm busy. And I need this done by today.”

“But you don't have to leave!”

Frowning, you turn around to see him slouched over the couch with a pout on his face and a look that begs for you to stay. 

You're not easily swayed by childish behavior from people you don't know. It didn't work on you as one might assume from your laid back personality, which most confuses it as rudeness, but this kind of attitude is what you hate the most.

If Gekko doesn't confront you about why he doesn't want you to leave, you won't hear him out. If he isn't honest, then you won't entertain him any longer.

“See you later, kid.”

Not even two steps ahead, you stop dead on your tracks when you hear him whine loudly. 

He's not even looking at you, eyes downcast and making sad noises; like a kicked puppy. It makes you question how old is this kid to be throwing a tantrum because he doesn't have his friends around.

This is not your problem, though, you can just keep walking away and try your luck with either Chamber or Killjoy to fulfill your task instead of lounging around and wasting time. But deep inside, there is a little fire that has been ignited by seeing someone like him acting so pathetic that you just want to strangle him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You spat with anger. Uncalled for, since he's done nothing wrong. “Fucking childish.”

Gekko looks offended by receiving such rude treatment in a single question that his sad façade is forgotten.

“Why are you—!” He exclaims. “¡Háblame bonito!”

“I don't understand spanish, you dumbass.”

“Speak nicely to me!” 

“I am speaking nicely. I don't get why the fuck you're so childish about this. Do you want something from me? Then say it.”

“I don't want anything from you! I just wanted some company but you're leaving like the rest do!” Huffing in frustration, he scratches his head in an attempt to subside his irritation. 

“You never said you wanted company, what am I, a mind reader? And why is that a reason to be acting like a brat? Grow up!”

“No, you grow up! You are so irritating!”

Scoffing, you close the distance slightly, hovering over his form with a menacing aura and scowling at his defensive stance.

Gekko is frowning, his hazel eyes holding back a fury only he could comprehend but softens ever so slightly when you approach him and, if your eyes don't deceive you, his cheeks reddens when his sight roams your body now that he had a new angle from you.

He stammers when he asks you to back off, eyes to the side and fidgeting on his seat.

You fix your shades before starting, “I told you I can't stay, I've got work to do yet you insist on me staying to fulfill your own desire? Don't be selfish.”

“Am not…”

“You are. Stop pretending that this isn't to make you feel better.”

Gekko's eyes widened in embarrassment, “Yeah? What if I am! Is that something wrong to wish for?”

“No, only immature.” Checking the time, you decide this has taken too long “I've gotta go.”

“Nadie nunca se queda de igual manera. Go off, just leave already.”

You sigh. 

Is never easy to confront others about the feelings bothering their minds and souls, and you know a person is easy to rile up if you press their buttons constantly. 

You've heard of the happy Gekko at all times, bringing laughs and smiles to his fellow friends and filling that void of a friend if needed—but who does the same for Gekko when he needs it?

Usually the happy people you encounter like him are the most troubled within their hearts. You don't want to be pointing fingers, but this boy has some deep issues with solace and individuality. It makes you wonder if he's ever had a healthy friendship or a healthy relationship in general.

Because now that he's this angry, he could use some emotional support to go through his feelings and what wrongs he's done.

Capable of angering someone like him should be a feat, but besides that, you must have acted terribly for him to get to this point of annoyance.

Gekko seems really upset, but mostly, he looks so worn off that you pity him for whatever he's going through. 

God, you cannot leave without resolving this first. Is going to nag your brain with guilt if you don't make amends with him.

“I apologize for my behavior.” You begin, Gekko levels you with a skeptical look. “Let’s try this again: I’m busy, I can’t stay, and sorry about that. The others might return later today if you’re patient enough.”

“Yeah, in hours maybe, or never.”

“Have a little faith there.” you shrug. “Aren't they your friends? They are coming back for sure, don't worry too much.”

“It's not only that.” He says. “I- um, I don’t like the silence here, it's too deafening, you know? I just wanted some noise, something to fill in while I wait. I keep talking and talking now because I don’t want it to be quiet.”

“Yeah, I quite get it. Still, I'm sorry about earlier.”

“I accept the apology because it really was rude of you to snap like that.” Gekko sighs, “Why did you even react like that? Like, what prompted you to do that?”

How do you explain to him you don’t even know exactly why you’ve snapped at him?

Perhaps you won’t. There is a small idea planted that you don’t want to dwell on because it would be too embarrassing to admit and you don’t think Gekko would appreciate your thoughts.

“Didn’t have a good day.” You lie. He seems to buy it. “Shouldn’t have taken it on you, though.”

Gekko nods and offers a small smile. Things seem to have calmed down for now and the other looks a little better than before, which is good in your opinion.

“Go,”  He nudges your arm with his finger, smiling. “I think Cypher really likes you in comparison to us, if you ask him, he might go with you.”

Ah, clever boy. 

“Maybe, I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

Waving your goodbye, you take your time to regard him silently before walking away from the common room, sighing in tiredness and stress consuming you entirely when you’re finally out of his vision.

This is not how you expected the day to be going. You expected nothing; just to do your job, return to the base and maybe get a nice glass of wine—you feel like trying your luck and figure out if today is the day you’re gonna like the beverage—puke from disgust because you will probably still hate it and take a long ass nap.

But by the looks of it, maybe you're doomed to solo this.

God you won’t be able to finish this alone.

Going back your steps, you reach the common room once again, startling Gekko who seemed to be playing with his knife. He takes a moment of consideration, gaping like a fish out of water before realization dawns on him.

You raise your hand before he can even say a word, watching his smile stretch to a grin while he waits for you to give him the chance to say something.

“I’ll offer this once: I’m going to Ice box, and I need a partner for this specific mission, are you up to this?”

Gekko didn’t even let the question be finished, jumping from the couch with a loud: ‘Hell yeah!’ and a fistpump in the air, a bright smile adorning his face. Doing him once over, you decide that the deed is done and now there is no turning back.

Take it or take it.

“We leave in five, be ready at the launching site or else I’m leaving without you.”

With that final warning you take off to gather your equipment. 

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

Ice box is not like it used to be. 

Throughout the time you’ve been working for the protocol, this place has changed a thousand times. You don’t even remember how it was supposed to be in the first place, but your best guess is the omega agents had something to do with it: the cargo ships, the laboratories, everything has been modified to their convenience thanks to kingdom. 

You are thankful enough that at times that this place has been in danger, your team has been able to stop the detonation of the spikes and prevent further catastrophes. Either you knew the place better than them or their teams weren’t able to catch up with how fast you did the retake of the sites.

Luck was on your side, you suppose.

This time, however, you won’t need any of that to complete the mission.

Go in, download the data, steal the samples if there is some, and get the fuck out of there.

You wish your duo were someone able to surveillance while you get what you need, but it is okay, you can make it work. Gekko will keep watch while you gather the info, or maybe he can go and inspect the samples near the kitchen so the work can be doable and quick to do. 

“Damn, this place is huge!” Gekko watches around him with wonder in his eyes and excitement pouring from every word uttered. “And so fucking cold, god, what the fuck.”

The wind seems to have gotten stronger after many months of keeping this place barred from people. The blizzard was picking up fast, making the snow rise with strong bursts of air and freezing you to the bone. Your shades were getting covered in snow quite quickly and you were annoyed you had to clean them up often. A bit more and your fingers will become windshields.

Gekko was wearing his usual fit, which is not proper for this kind of weather. Either he was going to die from hypothermia or worse, become an actual ice statue with the lack of clothing. This is partly your mistake for not warning him on time before taking off; you cannot expect people to travel somewhere called Icebox and not be aware that it might be a cold place.

“Here, warm yourself up.” Taking off your coat, you fix it on top of his shoulders until he pops his arms through the armholes. He sighs, burrowing his face on the fur covering his neck and shyly inhaling your scent.

Smiling at him, you pat his head gently and begin your walking towards the rafters on A site. The turtleneck you’re wearing should be enough to cover you until you reach the surveillance room. Being a closed space, you guess the old scientists might have a heater installed; and if they don’t, you are going to curse their entire lineage for this crime.

Is pretty cold out here, your supposition that people might still linger around the area is close to none, so you can breathe in peace for the time being.

“Hey, aren't you cold?” Gekko treks besides you, catching up with your quick pace. “You're not wearing much, I'm sorry I had to take this from you.”

“It’s okay, I’ve worn less when I had to come here and fight for our lives, this is alright.” Is not and your chattering teeths gives away how cold you were getting. 

Gekko stretches his arms out, wiggling his hands to signal you to come to him and you cannot help but raise a brow at his antics. Rubbing your hands together to breathe in some warm air you ignore him to reach the destination.

The site is clear, quiet, and echoing the footsteps you fear someone might hear it. Gekko is keeping the silence still, and you wish he would speak or say something so the atmosphere would not be perceived as…deathly.

Is way too quiet.

“I need to download some data from the main room, it might take a while until I find what I’m looking for.” You comment, Gekko nods. “I need you to reach the kitchen and find the secondary lab to take some samples. Remember the pictures I’ve shown you on the jet? We need to take them back to base for Killjoy to analyze them.”

“You got it boss!” He exclaims, saluting you. 

“Once you’ve got them, return here. Is better to stick together, but knowing this won’t take you long, we will separate for a while.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna be gone forever, you know?” He sets off, giving a slight wave in your direction. 

That brings a grin to your face. 

Opening the compartment where most of the computers are located frightens you a bit. The metal doors sound like they need maintenance with how rusty they crack while opening, scaring you to the bone with how loud it is. 

Everything inside the room seems impeccable and things are where they are supposed to be. Most of the computers are off right now, except for one that is stuck in the far corner of the room, the screen on sleep mode and projecting a small animation of the logo of Kingdom. Is warm inside, too, which you are thankful for so you can shake off the coldness chilling you.

There is no password required when you move the mouse, the desktop greets you with multiple files organized on the side and you wonder if this should feel easy to scavenge through kingdom’s most important secrets.

Don’t mind the hours put into learning how to hack into computers taught by Cypher, you are going to get the info and get out of here as soon as possible.

Getting the usb from your back pocket, you put it in and wait for it to load. Drumming your fingers, you get a glimpse of A site from the window and admire the pristine and cleanliness it maintains while you wait. One of the reasons this place has always given you the chills, is how weird it works. 

Despite how often it snows, none of it gets inside. As if it avoids entirely to be dirtied by it. Does it have to do with any of the inventions they’ve worked on here? Could it be that it had something to do with the experiments they’ve tested on Yoru’s ancestors' armors? An invisible shield?

Ping!

The computer loads the usb without problems, the work starts here.

Going file through file might take a while, but you hope this doesn’t take longer than what you expect. 

There are some files already open that you think will go over first. Some titles you don’t understand quite well, but there are profiles from the alpha agents that have the basic information one might get if the both worlds share the same fates.

Some are coordinates to cities that still exist in their world and the current location of every omega agent. All their data, every single mission they’ve been assigned and their contact information is there, in open sight.

This is no coincidence. Someone had left this on purpose for you to find, but why?

You decide to dwell on it later, copying every data of importance to the usb and reading the remaining files. Paragraph through paragraph, each sentence you read is worse than the other and the horror it hides behind this screen is worse than you imagined.

Who keeps this on a scientist computer? 

Unless this isn't information saved here. All you've encountered here has been placed exclusively for someone to find, with a purpose.

Oh, fuck.

Who else knew? Besides you and Sage, there has been no one else this mission has been talked about. 

Brimstone and Viper are both very picky with whoever they share important details about kingdom or omega earth; unless there is a rat in your forces, you doubt anyone else would snitch it out.

You trust Cypher with your life, and after learning what's going on with his counterpart, you doubt it could be him. Killjoy is a no-no, she is Brimstone protegé and someone who you cherish very much.

There is only one centinel left whom you found nothing inside these files.

You cannot grasp the why, though.

Someone who wanted to warn you about this and knew you were coming to gather the information that was left long ago—why would he expose himself like this? 

You were tasked to figure out the experiments on radiants and the power the armor from Yoru's ancestors held; to find the correlation to the spike and the radianite they so desperately wanted to steal.

They have an intel too, sharing the information openly and creating a bridge of knowledge for both sides without actually involving any party.

The intel is here.

And Gekko is alone.

Taking the usb with the information it loaded, you run out of the computer room towards the kitchen with rapid footsteps.

Your heart is pounding wildly inside your chest, terrified of anything happening to Gekko while you were not there to help. 

Tapping on your comms, the only answer you get while calling out Gekko's name is pure static; that only heightens your worry.

There is a small chance he might be alright and is only messing around while he waits for you to finish. Maybe he's only exploring the sites freely because no one is here and you are just paranoid and overthinking stuff.

The blizzard has gotten stronger for the past hour, covering almost everything outside in big piles of snow and picking up air currents. It made the running impossible to do and the desperation to get a hold of your senses, making you feel like your steps were slower or simply not enough.

“If he's okay I'm going to murder him myself.” you take the mental note, worried sick and furious.

Once you've arrived at the door frame from the kitchen, you are quick to notice the door to the lab is wide open. There is no sign of your partner nor anything to indicate there has been a fight here. Some things are messed up in the lab so you could only assume it was his doing while searching for the samples.

But where is Gekko? Where the fuck did he go that he is unable to answer the calls?

Going down the hallway you stop dead on your tracks when you pick up the faint sound of ticking. Above the raging weather, it is impossible for you to not recognize that awful sound.

Taking out your ghost, the only weapon you brought with you, you swing on the corridor to B site. There is a Fade holding the angle, she seems bruised and worn off, but still holds onto her phantom with the strength she has left.

You fail your first shot, which is fatal because she injures your leg with one of her bullets before you can land one through her head. You gasp in pain, leaning on the doorway and breathing in heavily while her dead body falls to the side.

The cold is not helping the wound at all, feeling the tender skin burn under your touch and friction against the tight clothing. You're not sure the bullet has exited the appendage and don't want to figure it out now, that’ll be a problem for your future self.

Gekko is your priority. 

Biting back a pained groan, you rush your walking to get the weapon, leaving the ghost strapped to your waist.

Hovering over the threshold, you are quick to spot Omega Chamber holding the angle to snowman, undisturbed and unaware one of his teammates has died. The loudness of the blizzard could be in your favor right now, since you didn’t know how many of them were left and the comms were unavailable for all of you.

The best option was to back off to the entrance to snowpile and jump down. From that distance Chamber won’t be able to detect you and you will have a chance to lower their numbers.

Reloading the gun, you follow your plan until you are close to B site. 

You didn't want to use your powers, always having faith in your aim and supported your missions with that alone.

On this occasion, there is no other option left.

Taking the shades off, you breathe in deeply, holding onto the phantom tightly and canalizing the energy from the spike ticking down. 

One of the reasons you fear your powers is when the spike is down. 

The longer you use it, the faster the ticking goes and closer to exploding, exposing everyone to its danger. There is some sort of connection from the radianite it extracts to what you can do—experimentations that has been done to you before the first light to tranform you into a radianite magnet and localize them for kingdom. 

Is a bad memory to reminiscent, painful to the core.

But if you want to get out, if you want to find Gekko, you have to become the monster you've swore to never be.

When you open your eyes, you can see your reflection in one of the cargo boxes in front of you. Your eyes are designed like waves of a radius, ring after ring moving outwards and magnetizing—demonic.

The white of the sclera and the red of the rings, Viper once mentioned how evil you look like this, which made you self conscious as to how the others might perceive you. The shades you so dearly hold onto you was taken when you killed your counterpart once. 

It belonged to her, the you from another world, and the little thought that you were no different after all made you upset and sad.

It's scary, seeing yourself like this after so long of denying your nature, is terrifying not knowing what's going to happen now.

Once upon a time, you thought it matched your vibe, but those times are long gone after the many mistakes you've made while using it.

There is no time to dwindle in the past.

Every vitals from every person within the spike radius shows in front of your eyes; where are they hiding, what are they holding, and between them, Gekko lays on the floor, unmoving.

The feeling of bubbling anger chokes you, and you cannot help the hellish cry before swinging to a Sage next to the spike and head shooting her.

You can feel the life of her becoming one with the energy of the radianite when she finally dies, going back to where it belonged once.

There is another person hiding behind the yellow box, another a little far behind near their spawn and Chamber has not stopped holding snowman even after shooting Sage who was almost right next to her. You pay him no mind, perhaps he hasn't heard you yet—you've gotta act quick.

Running to yellow, you quickly swing with the phantom and shoot Yoru in the head, but he bursts into a bright light, blinding you for a moment before you see the actual one shooting you with a bulldog.

Many bullets go past you, but as soon as it makes contact with you, your body swallows them. Yoru makes such a disgusted face seeing your body contort to accommodate the new hosts before dropping dead.

Gekko's body is right behind him, wounds littering his skin and your coat covered in amounts of blood it freezes your heart for a moment.

You know he is alive thanks to the vitals of radianite inside his body, but you fear you might lose him if you were to stick here. 

Reloading your gun, you throw his whole body on your shoulder. You've gotta take advantage while in this mode, strength won't be lasting for long with how close the spike is to exploiting.

Gekko grunts in pain when you start running, you mentally apologize to him but won't slow down.

Is not until you reach snowman that you finally hear the spike detonate.

Weakness takes hold of you and, without the energy from before and the bullets that Yoru shot you, new wounds start opening up, making you tumble down onto the snow with Gekko by your side.

The boy wakes startled, gasping for air and choking onto his own blood while looking around him. When he spots you shaking next to him, he crawls next to your side to cradle your head, unaware of the many wounds hurting him.

Turning to your side, you finally make eye contact with Gekko, happy to see him awake and somewhat okay despite his injuried. Before you can ask him yourself if he's okay, he lets off a scream, backing off until you are no longer touching. 

The terrified expression on his face should be enough to offend anyone, but dizzy and tired with the whole play you've done, you cannot figure out why he is making that expression.

Until you blink. 

You are not wearing the shades.

It must have fallen off when you ran away from the detonation and didn't notice because of the rush of adrenaline. He is staring right into you, an expression you are not able to discern through the wisps of blizzard and ice cooling you down. 

“Tsk, tsk. You've gotten away, then.”

Your hair stands on its ends, turning slowly until you see Chamber hovering over your form with his weapon in hand. Gekko gasps, choking in his own blood until his throat is sore and hurting, but closing the distance until he has you within reach.

Chamber looks down at you, his operator aiming right at your head while you try to hide Gekko’s body behind you. The poor boy grunts in pain, eyes wide in fear and body trembling for the loss of blood; he can’t even utter a word after what has happened.

Is this how you both die?

There is one shot, a second one follows after that and Chamber clicks on his comms.

“The subject was found dead.” Is what he says, to your horror. There are two holes next to your leg where he's shot, clearly missing the target. “I’ve dealt with his partner as well, I’ll be going back as soon as the spike radius goes down.”

There is a conversation going on between him and the Viper that escaped before the spike detonated. The chance of jumping him while lowering his guard is high, but would prove it to be fatal if his reflexes are sharp with the shotgun he has strapped on his hip.

Giving a brief glance at Gekko, you are safe to assume he will be okay for the time being, but not for long if Chamber decides to act on his words. 

Moving slowly, you try to reach for your knife. Maybe if you’re quick enough, you can slice his neck and leave with his weapon.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He warns. There is not an ounce of pity in eyes, which confuses you as to what he wants to do with you both.

“If you’re going to kill us, why prolong this? I knew you were sick to the head, but not to this point.”

Walking slowly around you, he regards you with quietness and a pensive expression. The closer he gets, the more you cover Gekko with your body to create some sort of shield against the other. 

You know you wouldn’t be able to do anything if he were to manhandle you or hurt your partner; the amount of blood pooling around you was alarming enough to not do anything drastic.

“I’m taking a look.” Is his answer. With the barrel of the gun under your chin, he raises your head with gentleness. “You’ve never given me the chance to see you in action, I’m taking the time admiring those beautiful eyes you have there. Enchanting, aren’t they, kid?”

Gekko frowns at his words, with the last of his strength he scowls at Chamber and holds your arm with a weak grip.

“Territorial as well, how amusing.”

He straps the operator on his back, extending a hand to you. “Stand up. Time is running out for you and they won’t take long before they ask why I’m taking so long.”

Accepting the offering hand, you let go of Gekko to support your weight on Chamber. The moment you’re on your two feet, Chamber feels the sharp sting on his neck of your knife threatening to cut the skin. He tries to reach for his shotgun, but the pressure of the knife gets the better of him and he stops.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You warn. He laughs at that. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t slice your throat and leave you to die.”

“Just kill him!” Gekko chides in, frightened. “He’s the bad guy, anyway!”

“Now, now, that’s not the way to treat your comrades, is it?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spat, hand trembling with anger seeping out of you. 

“You better get running, the spike radius has gone down by now. I have to report back that your bodies were sadly disintegrated by the explosion so there is no proof of you leaving.” Pointing at the pile of snow covered in crimson, he continues, “The blizzard has not gone down yet, it will be no time until your trail is covered if you leave by now.”

“Why should I let you go alive?”

Smiling, he coyly asks back, “Say, who do you think gave you the information you have now? Quite promising, isn’t it?”

Dropping your arm, you let him go easily. Chamber doesn't strap his gun off nor threatens you when he makes distance, giving you the time to compose yourself and think for a moment what will be the course of the situation.

Gekko hiss loudly, gasping for air when the current gets colder. Not even giving a look at Chamber, you fall to your knees to get your partner before he hits the floor. 

You need to leave.

With your busted leg and the last of your strength, you try to carry Gekko on your back. Chamber approaches then, to help you on your feet with the boy secured on you.

“I'm sorry…” Gekko whispers in your ear, coughing up some blood and sniffing back some tears. You shush him softly, holding his legs tightly.

“Is alright, Gekko, I'm going to take you back home.”

He hums, nuzzling your neck. His cheeks are freezing, “With you?” he asks, words slurring.

“Yeah, Gekko, with me.”

Nodding to Chamber, you start walking away.

“Give my regards to my counterpart, I bet he is doing fantastiqué!” 

You don’t turn back, ignoring his words and moving forwards where you left the jett. Gekko has long passed out, having his full body weight on you slows the trail to safety, but you won’t be leaving him behind just because of a little setback.

Your only hope is he is going to be okay by the end of this.

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

Reporting back everything that happened feels like a far off dream you wouldn't believe your tale if you were to not be there. 

From the files, to the samples Gekko did get and held onto them so he could fulfill his mission; you think you deserve a little rest.

Your conversation with omega Chamber still nags your brain, leaving many questions unanswered and many things inconclusive. There is no one you can confide this information to; you decide to keep it out of the report.

Gekko seems to be recovering well—Sage did an amazing job calming you down when you arrived at the protocol. Worried sick and begging her to please heal him as a priority, she did not fight you and complied with the request. 

The boy has said nothing from the moment he woke up and has avoided talking with anyone but you. Being sedated and under many medications to his full recovery, he only has asked for you to accompany him while bedridden.

Gekko is cute under the effects of sedatives.

He asks for your hand to hold his, to please talk to him to avoid the silence, to kiss him on the forehead and whatnot; you are amused by his straightforward attitude, and appreciate the direct requests with pure intentions—you don't fulfill his requests, much to his dismay, but do talk to him softly to help him sleep better.

One would think that after such a mission and adventure you both went, the relationship would change eventually. 

Under sedatives it looked like, all cuddly and emotional—but after he was discharged and time passed by, it was the opposite.

Gekko is acting weird.

Weirder than you think he could get.

Confidence is something that oozes off him constantly, finding him caught off guard is not right nor an event that happens often; so you wonder, why does everytime you cross paths with him it seems like he gets scarred for life.

He gets all flustered, stammering over his words and fumbling hands all over the place trying to excuse himself, avoiding your gaze like it was the plague itself, and then escaping from wherever room you are situated.

There is no moment where you can go and stop him because he always finds a way out. Is bothersome and annoying that his childish behavior gets the better of him instead of confronting you about whatever has happened or is bothering him.

“Say now, what have you done to our new residential kid?” Cypher asks, tinkering with his camera. “He seems…skittish around you, haha.”

Grunting, you kick him under the table until one of your hits gets him. “Gekko is acting so fucking weird. I’m not in the mood to entertain you with my dramas, you devious man.”

He chuckles, caressing his offended appendage after your attack, “Devious, you say? I’m stating the obvious, the eyes don’t deceive from what I’ve observed, dear.”

“Oh, yeah?” Crossing your arms, you dare him to keep talking. “Go on, then, speak.”

Leaving his tools on the table, he leans in one of his arms, his whole posture seems to change from the relaxed stance towards a more formal one. “Everything comes with a price, my dear. Nothing is free in this world.”

“Your annoying self is.”

Cypher hums, fascinated, “Is it now? Go on, you know what I want to know. Tell me, and I’ll offer the knowledge of what’s going on with Gekko.”

Drumming your fingers against the table, you consider his offer for a moment. 

The weight of the information he is offering is not worth what you know. What you’re asking for is a more personal matter. What Cypher is asking for could potentially endanger the protocol and its integrants if mistakenly shared with the wrong people. And under an oath, it is impossible for you to disclose it to him this easily. Brimstone would have your head on a stick if he were to know.

The keyword here in play is know.

Cypher won’t tell a soul, there is no unless, you know he won’t tell a soul so there is nothing to lose here.

Maybe a little bit of dignity because you’re this distraught over a boy, something you thought were beyond and above, but that is a matter for you to figure out later.

“We found part of the coordinates of the omega agents, most are scattered around their world, without the need to survive nor coexist within the same space like we do because the first light happened but the catastrophe was completely different. They are seen as heroes, not villains.” You begin, Cypher leans in, interested. “Brimstone seems to believe they are using radianite to support their own world and create matter from the power it gives them since they can’t afford to. Their world is dying at a fast pace, so the attacks with spikes might occur sooner than we think.”

“How so?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sure, Killjoy is investigating that aspect as we speak right now. I don’t think they are going to share that information with me nor any of us except Viper and, perhaps, Sage. And until we get assigned another mission, we have to pretend everything is under control.”

“Anyhow, we’ve got another problem.” You sigh, “There is one amongst us who is giving the omega counterparts our information, and vice versa. Viper seems to believe it could be Chamber—so do I, but we have no proof to support the supposition. They’ve yet to discuss how to tread in to obtain more information.”

Keeping the conversation you had with omega Chamber as a secret might be the wrong move, but if you can work on the shadows and try to get in contact with him once again, maybe you will get a lead as to how to read their moves before they act.

Risky, but willing to test it out.

“Anything else?”

Thrumming against the surface, you consider whether to share this tidbit of information to him or save it for yourself. Because, how do you tell the man who has lost everything and everyone, that his counterpart has been able to get his wife and kid back, unlike him? 

Cypher has been your friend for many years, you cherish him enough to not want to hurt him in any way; for his sake, this will also die with you.

“Nothing more, is just a summary of what I was able to get.”

Cypher hums, contemplating your words and the information given before nodding, satisfied with what he’s learnt.

“Gekko seems to have developed quite the feelings for you, dear.” He announces after a moment. Blinking, completely caught off guard, you scowl at him.

“I’ve given you all the information I've gathered so you could laugh in my face, fucker?” Cypher watches your hands close into fists, holding back the need to punch him in the face. “What else, are you going to tell me he is in love or something?”

“But he is!” He defends himself, both of his arms shown in surrender. “Is it not my fault the boy is completely enamored with you now, you can ask him yourself.”

“You are an idiot.”

He laughs, “Maybe, but in matters of love, dear, one is not deceived so easily. Gekko is in love, if not a little obsessed with you now. Say, you don't know how he looks at you when you're distracted.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “He's scared of me, I think.”

“Says who?” Going back to his camera, he keeps going, “If only you were to see how much he hates our close relationship, or how heated his gaze is whenever I approach you. Ah! Young love, murderous and territorial.”

“Someone said something like that before…”

“See? Eyes do not deceive what we perceive.” Cypher chuckles, putting his tools back into its bag. “He won't make a move, and it is up to you whether you want to pursue something with this kid or simply start bedding someone else until he gets the idea, hm?”

“You are disgusting.”

“But I'm not wrong. Better break his heart now than later.”

If Cypher isn’t dead by the end of your little chat, it is only because of the years you’ve known each other or else the protocol would be one less man on their lines. 

Something he’s said is true though, you can ask Gekko directly the fuck is going on with him to solve the problem. Bedding someone else is not an option, disgusted by the many men inside this place, Gekko and Phoenix are the only ones you might consider handsome and eye candy in your opinion.

You have the lingering suspicion that what happened at Ice box had something to do with his shift and new perspective of you. Which you find unfair, since all you did was try to save your asses and he was only awake partly through the end.

Why would your eyes be of enough importance for Gekko to run away from you? Something wasn’t adding up here. Nothing about what Cypher said of Gekko's newfound love for you made sense with the way he was acting. It could almost pass up as if he was afraid of you, right?

No matter. You are going to find out one way or another.

Gekko finds that you can be terrifying when you really want to, finding you hanging and waiting in the darkest corner of the base to ambush him or worse, kill him. Is a ridiculous thought, in truth, he doesn’t think you would be capable of such a thing.

But right now, after what’s transpired on Ice box and witnessing how fierce, methodical, hot, you were, he is sure you can snap him like a toothpick and he won’t complain. Which is why he is so concerned! That is the main reason why he’s so scared right now, because if you asked him to bend over, Gekko would do it without hesitation! 

Too much, that’s way too much. His own thoughts are embarrassing, and he doesn’t know what he’s capable of when you’re in the vicinity. He needs to keep his libido in check or else he’s going to burst if you were to direct a word at him.

But of course, life never wants to give him a moment to breathe in peace.

You are able to corner him once his practice is done in one of the empty hallways of the base. 

Patience has been a key in the whole process of waiting for Gekko to be left alone. The boy seems to be surrounded by people all the time, which infuriates you because you wanted nothing more than to squeeze out the information from the source from the moment your conversation ended with Cypher.

Gekko looks like a second away from passing out with his red face and how hard he is shaking from the close distance. You thought if you were to put your arms and cage him with no way to run, it would be easy to talk to him, but he isn’t even looking at you!

There is no moment to waste, “Gekko, have I done something to you? Something to offend you?”

“N-no.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? We’ve literally gone through a life threatening situation together and now you won’t just direct a word at me?” 

He whines low, eyelids lowering and refusing to meet you in the eyes—or the shades, to save yourself some embarrassment— and something about his voice, the way he is acting so vulnerable and weak, ignites the same fire inside you like it did the first time; and to your horror, you are able to discern it wasn’t anger what you were feeling that day, but something entirely different.

Great, now are two who are flustered enough that the conversation won’t be able to go on.

Gekko gulps loudly, eyes darting everywhere except your face and fidgeting slightly. 

On a sudden rush of adrenaline and braveness, you take your shades off, closing it and hanging it on your shirt. Once the other gets a hang of what you’re trying to do, his eyes widen in panic. But by then it was too late.

Your fingers close on his chin, making him raise his whole face to level with yours and finally, his hazel eyes make contact with yours.

Is a gamble, but you are ready to accept whatever happens here.

There is a whole shiver that runs down his spine when he tries to speak, stuttering over his words but his eyes never leave yours. Too many things, so much blabbering of his trying to fill in the silence to keep his hammering heart at bay, you’re getting tired of it.

Unspoken things sometimes should stay that way, unspoken.

Your lips crash against his on a bruising kiss, stealing his breath in one single contact and swallowing his whines when he tries to protest. Gekko is quick to reciprocate and deepen the kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth eagerly in an attempt to savor every crevice and keep the contact to last long, for as long as you want, anything you give him he is going to devour with fervor. 

One of his hands finds purchase behind your neck, obligating you to push him against the wall while the other snakes his way under your shirt, feeling every inch of skin available until his fingertips toy with the hem of your bra. 

His mouth moves in tandem with yours, desperate and wanting. You cannot escape from the iron grip behind your neck nor the other hand trying to figure out how to take the clothing off. 

Gekko wants you, wants you, no kidding. With the way he is grinding against you, and how he keeps making these noises when your tongues connect in his mouth, to the low grunts he slips when you regain dominance. This boy is desperate to bed you, and you cannot deny you don’t share the same sentiment.

You groan loudly when his hand gives up and tucks under the bra to grab your right breast, toying with the mound and fingers stimulating the nipple. Gekko smiles against your lips when he hears the reaction, sucking on your lower lip and claiming your mouth once again.

Your hand finds purchase on his hip, guiding his erratic movements to a slow one, making the friction harder to pursue but more aware of the pleasure flooding his system.

“More, please.” he whispers, kissing your cheek and leading his mouth down your neck to suck on the skin. “Give me more.”

Submissive.

Holding his cheeks you redirect his lips to yours, giving him what he wants. Rising your leg and applying pressure, he groans loudly for you to stick your tongue down his throat. His cock feels hard rock against your thigh, twitching with the need to be touched directly by your hand alone.

Gekko doesn't know what comes over him nor how he finds the courage to be touching you without shame. From kissing you, to feeling your breasts fit perfectly in his hand and having you ride his thigh unconsciously, is all too overwhelming and hot and it turns him on so much he wants to be devoured by you.

Own me, he wants to say, own me, mark me, make me yours only, please.

His finger racks down your chest with the many sinful thoughts running his head, leaving a red trail of his mark on your body. Gekko’s hand lowers until he grabs a handful of your ass now and tries to bite your lips in an attempt to seduce you. But somehow gets to draw blood because of his eagerness to feel you too. You stop for a moment, whining in pain and catching your breath from the make out session.

Taking distance, Gekko grunts in protest, eyes begging you to keep going. But when he notices the slight blood, he panics wildly. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” His hands hold your head with tenderness, and he watches your lip bleed slightly and get swollen with how hard he was chasing after the kiss. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Huffing in amusement, you grab him by the neck and push him against the wall once again, his hands fall to his sides. He seems caught off guard, a surprised expression painting his features while he figures what you’re trying to do. 

Leaning in, you whisper in his ear, “You’re such a brat, you know that?” 

Gekko sighs at your words, melting under your touch, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I am…”

Wanting to test the waters, you tighten your grip on his neck, Gekko moans at that, bucking his hips.

“Who gave you permission to talk back, hm?”

You feel him gulp, having enough braveness to let his hand fall on your waist and caress you softly. Your eyes soften looking deeply into his eyes, finally understanding that his feelings are real.

The tenderness in which he looks at you fills your heart with this unknown feeling. Overwhelming, blooming, that is suffocating. In a good way, though, is pleasing.

“Are you okay with this, Gekko?” you ask. Gekko blushes and nods. Leaning your forehead against his, you smile gently.

“I-If you are, yes, anything.” Your stare is heavy, scorching, but he thinks that has nothing to do with the fact your eyes hold so much power and weight; but because he’s made you this flustered with his kisses.

That alone is enough to rile him up even more.

The blood has dried by this point and you are more than eager to keep going, but the fact anyone could find you both like this, and Gekko would be unable to hide the hard on he is sporting right now, obligates you to keep your feet grounded.

“Want to continue this behind doors?” you ask him, your hand touching his lower lip with care. Gekko nods excitedly, kissing your thumb. 

“Yes, please.” 

Oh, you cannot wait to wreck and ruin this man for anybody else.

Bold of you to assume he would want anyone but you on his bed by the end of tonight.

[aquicat]

Ranking DB members on how moraly depraved they are!

(I'll be sticking to Skyrim here)

Liz: She's just a spider doing spider things, no evil here.

Shadowmere: same as above, but it is a horse from cold dark hell... so...

Nazir: Like I'm not even convinced he kills people. I'm pretty sure he just cooks and does the accounting. Like, did he come here by choice, or did they kidnap him?

Veezara: He pretends he feels no remorse, but he does, really. Afterall, while most DB members joined because they realised they liked killing people, Veezara was a shadow scale and essentially conscripted from birth. If that hadn't been the case, I think he could have been a good person.

Cicero: yeah he's a freak for violence, but he does feel bad about it on multiple occasions. Namely after killing the silk merchant's daughter in his journal (yes, he says that it's because he forfeited the bonus, but is that really it?) and also he outright says he feels bad about stabbing Veezara. On the other hand, he's, well, Cicero.

Astrid: though she routinely makes the wrong decisions, she always tries to do the right thing. She also had a very good reason for the first murder she committed. However, she was responsible for the stunt in the abandoned shack, which is just horrible, when you think about it.

Gabriella: she's evil, but not like, irl killer evil. More Maleficent type evil. Oh no! She kills unicorns! What will we do to stop her! However, unlike the others, she doesn't stand with any perticular set of values. She isn't especially loyal to Astrid, nor the Night Mother. I feel like she would freelance if she could.

Arnbjorn: Mate was so evil the corrupt AF companions kicked him out. Like, how?!

Festus Krex: ...who killed his wife for running a bath that was lukewarm instead of tepid. None of the others have been shown to turn so quickly on someone they care about, in fact, most of the others are downright loyal! Like, he has some great lines and the game would feel empty without him, but he is so, so evil. (Bonus depraved point: he likes to take tepid baths.)

[lemonisntreal]

heyo! Just found your blog and I was scrolling through your stuff and noticed your AU tone deaf. And I haven't found anything about what it is or what your idea is behind it. So I wanted to ask if you could give me an introduction to your AU!

Oh! And I absolutely love your artstyle and how you draw Buster! Anyway, hope you drink enough water and have a good day/night! ;)

Dear god this has been in my drafts for a while-

Hiya! Sorry for that lack of info lol, I'd been inactive for a long time, and the time that I actually WAS posting consistently was back when things were still being sorta fleshed out. But I've got a pretty good idea of how every single part moves at this point, so sure :D I'll give a not-so-brief summary lol [under a cut because I couldn't not dump multiple paragraphs teehee ~_~]

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

Tone Deaf is like a dystopian version of Sing, if I were to put it super duper simply. One where Buster's issues get more emotional focus, and we get actual bonds with the cast because the movie forgot to do that.

Buster is, also, a lot more unhinged, fair warning. This fic's gonna contain violence and tackle some darker subjects [adjacent to grief and denial more specifically] so if it feels like I jumped a lot of sharks, it's because I 100% did.

It kinda started with me noticing how, in the actual movies btw, smaller characters like Buster and Mike had more difficulty getting around places. This led me to ask myself about how species differences could lead to struggles for certain animals since the city just isn't built for everyone [this is NOT Zootopia]. Ash's quills, and Meena's towering size were things I noticed too that would be massive problems, realistically. So after a lot of pondering, now we're here.

The world of Tone Deaf in present day is in a post-war period that's lasted about 50 years now [Crawly is actually a veteran from this war- which was more like complete and total anarchy if I'm being real, since there weren't really any sides until near the end...]

Long story short, the wealthy capitalized off of the war and taking people prisoner- so they purposefully kept it going. A resistance ended up forming to stand against this [Miss Crawly being one of the generals, with that classic missing eye] and after their army stormed the unsuspecting stronghold, the war finally began to conclude. It still took around a year after that to release all of the prisoners of war, and by the end of it all, the damage that had been done to some races was permanent. Even extinction-level in some cases- some animals just straight up don't exist anymore because of it.

Back to Calatonia. Laws that are in place to protect animals from tearing eachother apart are still relatively new, and the criminal underbelly of Calatonia is kinda out of control. Animals get kidnapped/poached, smaller animals are at a huge disadvantage and have basically no power [politically or otherwise], endangered species are a very real thing, poverty is a huge issue for most of the population- and in the middle of all this is Buster Moon.

He's gonna be the main perspective. And the story will also serve as a slight character study on him, mixed with my own grittier and batshit insane changes/headcanons/alternate universe ideas on his backstory. He's a ray of sunshine with a lot of bottled-up feelings that will kinda really take control of the story.

Buster has been arrested multiple times. He's been put in unsuccessful therapy. He's still grieving his dad. He's committing crime and compulsively lying about those illegal actions too. He has emotional difficulties that he hasn't dared try touching on in years, and he has issues with letting go- which, is kinda how all of his new problems come to be.

The threat of his theater being repossessed if his show isn't a success gets a LOT more emphasis too.

But on top of that is the added threat of Buster getting sent out of the city if he can't get his business up and running. Remember how I mentioned endangered animals?? Well Koalas are one of them. One of the big ones, actually. He's the only Koala in a city of almost five hundred thousand, and it's been that way for almost half a decade now. It's been causing issues for the people in charge for half a decade now. Koalas have government-protected settlements far away from here due to their numbers being so few, so if Buster loses the theater? That's the next step for him.

But, to help this poor dude through all the stress of life is the found-family he develops with the cast he hired. He helps them for a lot of the first act, and then they give back his kindness in the second. They connect through their similar experiences, as well as their shared passion for music and performance. And by the end, maybe Buster's okay. Or maybe he's had a complete downward spiral [not gonna speak of act three 🥰]

Other characters have also had a shift in their dynamics. Things in the story have changed. Like for instance- Gunter already knew Buster and was a close friend of him and Eddie before the show, Judith is now the mayor and a main character, Pete has been put in place of the banker in charge of Buster's accounts, Buster unfortunately gets involved in politics, Mike actually gets to bond with the cast- actually the cast gets to bond with the cast point blank period [idc what you say, this just straight up doesn't happen in the canon movies], and to top it all of is a generous helping of angst with a few acts of violence sprinkled in 🤭

The actual Act I summary is this right now:

Buster had been in tight situations before-- suffocating situations, even. He’d been in every kind of trouble imaginable, he thought. With family, friends, local businesses, the law. But he'd always wormed his way out, either through loopholes or by charm. Or usually just by stacking another lie on top of his already crumbling facade. But this time it's gonna take more than a cover-up to fix this. ‏‏‎ Buster’s dishonesty takes him too far once again, a simple typo causing him to unintentionally land himself in a wager that could cost his very life. He has two months to fix this- to ACTUALLY fix this. And the worst part is that he hadn't even meant to lie this time. ‏‏‎ The First Act of Tone Deaf.

TLDR; Buster learns to love again after experiencing the horrors of animalkind firsthand and being healed by theater kids LMFAO

[setagaya-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Elliot Shimizu

~~ August 8th ~~

"The love for all living creatures is the most noble attribute of man."

Login Lines:

*Pants* "I'm late!" *Pants* "Oh no... I promised my boss I'd be there in five minutes! I hope whatever he wanted isn't serious! ...Still, I wonder what the 'emergency' is? ...Finally, I'm here! ...Wait, why is it so dark in here? Where is everyone?

"SURPRISE!!"

"Ahhh!! What the?! What's going on?! ...'Happy Birthday, Elliot'? ...It's my birthday?! Oh jeez, I forgot... again!"

Voice Lines:

"That surprise party was like something out of a dream. To think that I, who often felt like a shadow in the lives of others, would be the center of such a heartfelt celebration. It's... it's a strange warmth that fills my chest, a happiness that's both foreign and intoxicating. For once, I feel seen, acknowledged. I... I don't know how to feel about it, exactly. It's not... bad. Actually, it feels pretty good."

"18. I can't believe it. The number feels so... heavy on my tongue. It's a milestone that marks adulthood. ...Yet inside, I don't really feel any different. There's an expectation that with this age comes a certain maturity, a sense of having grown or changed. But as I look in the mirror, the same old Elliot stares back. It's... it's a really sobering thought, realizing that perhaps I haven't evolved as much as I should have over the past year."

"As the day progresses, a familiar ache settles in my chest. Two years have passed, and the mysteries of our pasts, mine and my siblings, they still remain just that: mysteries. The fragments of memories I hold are like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, scattered and incomplete. The truth about who we are, about who I am, seems just out of reach. But the search for answers is a path I'm committed to walking, no matter how daunting it may seem."

"Nee-san. ...Thank you. I'm glad you took time out to wish me a 'happy birthday'. ...Yeah, truthfully, it was my co-workers at the vet who reminded me. ...No, don't feel bad, Mina-san. Sometimes, like you, my birthday... it just feels like another day. ...Thank you, Nee-san. Like you, I'm glad I got to know you too."

"What's this? ...Oh, a journal? For... writing down my conversations with animals with? ...Gee, thanks Mina-san. Still though, I feel even if I do this, I don't think anyone will believe me. Half the time I don't even believe myself when I say I'm talking to animals. ...Yeah, you're right. Thank you, Nee-san. Thank you, really and truly."

"Yorii-kun. ...How does it feel to be 18? I don't know. I've only been 18 for one day. I imagine it feels no different than 17, I guess. Give me some time, and I'll explain it. ...Responsibilities? You mean, like making sure you're awake for school? Making sure we have food in the fridge? *Sighs* ...I'd say 'don't ever change, Yorii-kun', but... never mind."

"So, what exactly is this? A... murder mystery jigsaw puzzle?! Yorii, you know I dislike anything that revolves around violence and/or murder! ...Oh, so it's suppose to be used to solve a murder? Still, I don't know if that's any better. ...I guess I can give it a try, but still... if this gives me nightmares, I won't be happy. ...Right. Thank you, Yorii-kun."

Mina Lines:

"Happy birthday, Elliot-kun. ...Did you forget today was your birthday? ...I see. I guess I can't throw stones. I'm not even sure my birthday could be considered a 'birth' date. It just seems like it's another day. ...Thank you, Elliot. I know I don't say this often, but... I really am glad I have you as my sibling."

"By the way, here's a birthday gift. I had to rush to get one cause I couldn't out during the day. ...It's a journal, ya' know, for writing down your personal thoughts and such. But... I also figured you could use it when you want to record your conversations with any animals you pass by. ...It doesn't matter if anyone believes your gift, Elliot. I know it's real, and so do you. If the people out there don't believe, that's their problem. ...Your welcome. And happy birthday, once more."

Yorii Lines:

"Hey, Big Bro! Happy birthday! So, how does it feel to be 18, huh? A legalized adult? ...Hey, don't knock 18, bro! Like I said, you're an adult now. Which means you've got all kinds of important responsibilities! ...Uhh, yeah, kinda. *Laughs awkwardly* ...Me? Change? Ha, in your dreams, bro!"

"Anyway, here's my gift to you! ...It's a murder mystery jigsaw puzzle! ...Hold on before you go crazy, Big Bro! It's not horror-filled. It's more like that board game you and Kanra-chan's older sister like to play. Cluedo or something. ...Just try it out, and I promise you'll like it. ...Ha, we all know you'd have nightmares, regardless. But I promise you'll like it! ...No problem, bro! Happy birthday again!"

[mealvaan]

Lend an Ear

Under the banner of Garlemald, the Decurion would commit all manner of atrocities. It was here in the privacy of his bedroom that he indulged in his most shameful act, one that he could no longer justify as a sacrifice for the greater good.

There were curtains, he made sure of it; he penned with an inconsistent hand and still hid behind his mother's name. He found it made his heart all the easier to bear.

As a final precaution, he made sure to always start his letters with a lie.

Dear Gale,

Thank you for the garments. My little sister greatly appreciates them. We've not much to our name, and it's nice for her to have something for special occasions.

He indulged his quill in another dip. He couldn't even imagine what a sister of his would look like, or if he even had one. It was difficult to conjure the image of himself fresh-faced, inkblots in place of features. The lies died short and he moved onto the next paragraph.

Advice from Garlean political philosophy: If your negotiators show you what they want, you'll find out what they need. Not many people understand what they need, truly. You could apply this to your suitors. If you're able to glean why they want you in their words, you can glean what there is to offer in lieu of your hand. This way, it's also not as if you're giving something back. They remain ingratiated to you because unlike marriage, a favor is not a two-way street.

Alternatively, there is always the option of your more embarrassing suitors suffering an unfortunate 'accident'. In a hypothetical, of course.

He wondered what Gale Amante looked like to earn the admiration that they did. It was difficult to glean an attractive Ishgardian in his mind; those he'd met struck an unflattering silhouette in bulky chainmail uniform and square helms, making it all the easier to knock their heads around. Perhaps under the helms there were pretty faces. Unfortunately, no face was pretty in the throes of war, nor with glassy, dead eyes. The real star they lived in was not a romantic frame of reference.

He imagined Gale penning this letter. Perhaps girlishly, kicking their feet towards the ceiling and smiling puckered. Hiding his letters in their bedside drawer or under their pillow, then retrieving them moments later just to read them again. It was an indulgent, fluttering thought, one that he knew to plague only the hearts of schoolgirls.

Forgive me. Killing has become such a recurring thread in our lives that it's become part of my comical lexicon. I trust you understand that I'm not truly suggesting it.

Though, sometimes the sinless acts of man become their own kind of violence. We often speak ill of the common traumas: those wrought in red, black and blue. However, I find the trauma of social expectation to be far more permeable, and profess far more damage to the soul.

What of the systematic trauma we impose on our Viera young, that they must conform to a path of solitude for characteristics only developed epochs into their lives? What of the trauma of religion, where one's life is considered only valuable when it suits the mold of a particular philosophy's law? Do these not also kill in a way more permeable than the mercy of death? Have they not killed historically?

A deep breath wracked through him to stay his shaking hand. This was hedonism, and as monastic as he acted, he knew it well. A terrible pall took hold of him as he scribbled.

In the face of this suppression, is killing truly the worst that man can commit? Amid the trauma of societal ills, the imposition of a false truth in the name of culture, violence is the most direct translation of our inner will to worldly form. Death may be our only way to overcome these impositions. Certainly, the change of the guard is inevitable, but to tie the pace of change to the slow roll of the generation is wilful ignorance.

Philosophy aside, it feels good, cathartic, an instrument of closure, does it not? To impose your will? Make a tangible mark upon the world where words fail to?

It was as if at the end of the sentence he came to. This letter could not be sent. It was more akin to a diary entry or a confessional. He couldn't burden his mark with thoughts he wouldn't even express under his own name.

Yet as his eyes met the nearby candle, he couldn't bring the letter to bear. He had to send it. He had to understand if anyone felt the way he did. If Gale understood him as they had time and time again.

He buffered the missive with what he thought was a lie.

I am still saddened to see so many fall to the Empire, though.

And he signed it.

Sincerely yours,

Nerva aan La'phir

And he sealed it.

[ggomos-maribat]

Fight for the Throne: Battle

Part 5.4 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

CW: violence, blood, childhood trauma

Danny's current fear was that his sudden absence was going to rattle the Ghost Zone and the Observants would appear out of nowhere to escort him back to work. He'd soon rather reveal his ghostly side to the three Parisians than have the eyeballs show up in the base. CW should be keeping them from doing that at least, he thought, if he knows what's going to happen.

He looks back at the group, rubbing his middle where he was previously shot. "Please don't fault Marinette for lying to you," he finally said to them. "And don't think that everything you know her as is a lie. She's a good person—just raised around the wrong people. I get that you have doubts but I'm sure she'll come clean after all of this."

He focused on the blonde boy, Adrien, in particular. If this incident is going to lead to their break-up, ancients, his sister was going to burn the League down.

The three didn't say a word, maybe still in the middle of processing everything they had heard so far. Danny stretched his arms and legs. "Okaaay, since we're all familiar with each other now, I think Adrien's due for a shovel talk."

"Seriously?" Chloe sputtered. "Aren't you like, even bothered about being trapped in here?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. As if you weren't just complaining about your hair earlier. He mustered his most innocent smile, folding his arms at the back of his head. "Well, no, 'cause it's useless to have negative vibes around here and we have nothing better to do anyway than talk."

The short girl, Alix, let out a light chuckle.

"So . . ." Danny pinned his gaze on Adrien again and saw him visibly gulp. "That shovel talk?"

"Right, uhh." Adrien smiled nervously. "I—I love Mari . . ."

"Mmm hmm."

"And I'd like to hear her side and . . . and honestly I just want to see her safe right now." The boy raked a hand through his hair. "I'd never do anything to hurt her and I've committed myself to protecting her during err, the attacks."

Danny nodded his head, humming. "I know amira wouldn't settle for anything less anyway."

"What does that mean? 'Amira'?" Alix asked. "Sounds like Arabic."

"It is Arabic. Means 'princess'," Danny answered, "She was the princess of the League."

Adrien's lips parted in recognition, forming an 'o'. Danny briefly recalled Marinette mentioning how one of his nicknames for her was 'princess'.

"I think you're pretty cool, Adrien. When it comes to the shovel talk, it's our brother you want to watch out for actually." A mischievous glint sparkled in Danny's eye. He knew just then that his eyes had momentarily turned toxic green. "He'll bring his katanas when he talks to you."

"Damian Wayne?"

"Yup, that one."

Static fizzled in the air, making Danny stiffen up. A cold gasp was threatening to escape his lips but it wasn't quite there. A portal's about to open up. He moved towards the corner of the cell where the view of any watchers would be blocked. He summoned a tiny portal to intercept the incoming one and used his other voice in a low tone.

"S̴̥̤̪̙̰̦͌̎̌̆͂̃̈́ͅẗ̸̢̫̥̒a̷̦̠̲̓̒̽̉̇̊̕͝ỳ̶̩͈̰̗͍͑͐̌̆̓͜ ̴͎͙̣͊ả̴̛͓͚͈̈́̏̽̂w̶̳̹̤̿̔̈́̔͐̏̃͘ͅǎ̴̻̪̐͊͆̓̇ȳ̸̰͔͓́͜͜ͅ ̶̢̙̊f̸̡͋̎̇͘r̸̡͔̖̱̗̤͒͆ơ̵̙��̘̰̙̼̈́͂͛͋̌̎ͅṃ̴̧̛̻̳͉͑̈́̊͝ ̴̛̞̼͍̮͋̋͌̑m̴̛̺̫̜̲͍̦̣͐ỷ̸̢̱̻̙̯̫ ̸̬̙̬͊��́̎̿͠l̴̘̳̭̈́̌̍͐̿̀́ơ̸̡̧̢͉̗͓̖͋̾̃̿c̷̙̻̖̣̥̄á̴̯͓̓̅͂͆ṫ̸̠͖̘̠̯̯̈í̶̡̀̂̊͌ȍ̵̻͚͆̎͛͝n̶̲̗̂̉͋̾," he threatened, "Ḏ̸̡̢̨̧̧̻̈͋͒̀̃͜͝͠ơ̴̝͚͈̩͚̤̪̍͆͑̂̕ ̷̞͙̳͙̗̤͍̔̔ͅn̶̲̥̘̻̹̒͜o̵̡̡͇̩̓̒̑͝͝t̷̯̝̜̬͙͉̍͊̃̂͋͌̚ ̷̱̪̙̣͎̈͂̍͂́͜c̵̩̍o̷̜̳͚̘̭͗̋m̴͔̓͛̐͂͊͠͝e̸͔͙̟̞̼̟̍̊̈́̀̋͌̏͘ ̵̯͍̞͎̜́͜u̸̖͖͍̳͇͛́̄͜n̴̛̙͚̺̈́́͛͆̾t̶̘̗̞̼͛ì̵̧̨̥͎̏͌́͘ḻ̴̃̍̋̅ ̷̨̢̫̓́ͅĮ̷̯̟͉͓̦̳̎ ̷̡̠͈͕̬̺̞̑̃̽͒͝ą̷̽̄̿s̷̛̰̺̭̫͈̀͆̅̔ͅk̸̨̩͓̜̯̲̬̒̿͝ ̶̧̢͇̞̖̀̏̏̇̚͜f̷͖͉͉̌͐̅͌͆̏o̴̡̞̼͓͈̳͗́̈̂͝͝r̶̞̦̲̋̿͆ ̷̻͖͗̌̈̕̚͝y̵̼͌̽̍o̴̗̒̍̏́͆̕͠ű̴̫̯͍͔͕̀͐̈̎̕͘."

He closed the portal instantly, mumbling, "Creepy fucking eyeballs."

And when he looked back, the Parisians were staring at him in different versions of horror. "Okay, come on, there's probably an akuma that's weirder than that." He crossed his arms pouting. "And . . . no, as much as I would like to, I'm not telling my whole life-death story as long as we're in here. You guys can just pretend you didn't witness that."

---

The sun dimmed and the sky soon faded into black as the day passed. They were brought just enough food to ration, but other than that, the League had kept them inside their cells. Soon, against her wishes, Marinette began to doze off.

"You shouldn't have done that."

That was what Damian had told her right after her first kill. Her hand shook around the knife as she walked behind her brothers.

'You shouldn't have done that'? She had worked with her blood and sweat in training and that was all he could say to her? She grit her teeth, breathing heavily.

Looking at her brothers' backs enraged her more. She was now one of them, but they didn't want her. Screaming, she lunged for Damian, tackling him to the ground and raining blows that he attempted to dodge. "What was I supposed to do?!" She yelled, hot tears at the corner of her eyes. "What was I supposed to do?!"

Damian was stunned into speechlessness as her tears dropped onto his own cheeks. Danyal only stood nearby, head held down. They probably thought they failed to save her from the worst kind of life. But their responses were hell for Marinette.

The scene melted into something that else—Marinette was Ladybug, all grown now, and was facing the ruins of Paris. Instead of burning chaos like she always pictured, the devastated city was a shell of itself, desolate like the places she'd gone to for a mission. She was the last soldier standing, and the akumas that had caused all of it . . .

A tightness erupted in her chest. Sobs wracked her whole body, followed by an unnerving numbness beneath her skin. From far away, she could hear a voice but couldn't make out what it was saying.

She curled in on herself, screaming, letting out what the city's terrorist had denied her for years. Somehow, she wasn't enough, she wasn't the heroine of Paris like she was supposed to be, she was the one who failed to save her people.

"Marinette!"

She jumped back into half-consciousness and found herself still shaking. Jason came into view, who was holding her while she fell apart. But instead of pushing him away, she clutched his shirt more tightly and let herself cry out loud and drain her tears.

She didn't care how pathetic she seemed, how pitiful it was despite putting up an act the previous day. Tim and Dick's expressions were unreadable: maybe it was grief, or guilt, or confusion, or sympathy, or panic. Marinette figured that they saw the ugly trauma crawl out of her, a kind of mirror to their own experiences.

Though their reactions told her that hers was much, much worse.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked in a hushed tone, pulling away the sweaty strands of hair from her face.

Marinette nodded mutely and pulled away. Jason returned to his brothers. No one uttered a word but they were still staring at her.

She pulled her lips into a fine line. "What, never seen a traumatized kid before?"

The boys could only radiate with concern—it seemed like they wouldn't say anything.

Marinette wrapped her arms around her knees. "Do me a favor: when you finally get around to researching about me, make sure you have the right information." She blinked and gazed emptily at the wall. "Then maybe you'll understand."

---

Damian noted the worry in Jazz's eyes when he pushed his portion of food towards her. "You should eat," he told her, "You don't know when the next is going to be."

"What about you?"

"I've suffered worse."

Her face twisted in a way that looked like she was imagining what that 'worse' looked like. But despite her efforts, he refused to take his food back and only opted for the cup of water. He knew she was starving as well, but didn't want to show it too much.

"So, we're here because this 'League of Assassins' wants one of you to take over, right?" Jazz pushed back her hair as she ate.

"Yes, I believe so."

She frowned. "Does it really have to be one of you? Why not choose someone else?"

Damian clicked his tongue. "I do wonder that myself. The problem is that they only consider us worthy because we've been trained by Ra's. I think they're missing something here if they didn't stop to consider that we actually don't share his ideals."

"Also . . . if you're here with me, who do you think Danny's with?"

"If the situation is a switch-around, then Danyal must be with our sister's Parisian friends, and Marinette is with my brothers." Now that he considered it, Marinette with Dick, Jason, and Tim was a recipe for disaster. Secrets were going to be exposed left and right: his brothers would be prying into Marinette's issues and it was only a matter of time before Danny's presence as a king would be needed.

The morning passed more quickly than the previous day. Assassins came to their cell for the second time, not to hand them food but to escort them out. He and Jazz were being taken to opposite directions, and he couldn't bring himself to strike just yet because they had her.

So he moved along the path, pulled along by two assassins, and plunged into the darkness.

---

What Damian noticed while going through the halls was how much of a maze the place was. It didn't help that he hadn't stepped foot in the base either—it would be tricky to navigate the escape.

He was led down a staircase and into another room where the escorts left him. The room was a tad bit larger than the cell, filled with weapons of every kind including his own. At the opposite side there's an opening barred by metal bars that could be unlocked by a lever. Peeking out, Damian saw that it led to the arena he spotted from the window of the cell.

He walked towards the wooden table that held his katanas. So this is it. The fight.

He picked up the twin weapons and stuffed other smaller ones in his possession: knives, a small handgun, shurikens. After packing up, he looked towards the gate.

See you soon, akhi. Amira.

---

The day was officially coming to be one of the worst days Jason Todd ever had. When they were finally getting out of the cell, they were taken into a series of winding passages and into what looked like a viewing deck for the arena. Other assassins had taken Marinette away—she left them with a stern warning not to do anything rash.

We have our hands tied. Great.

The other hostages were in viewing decks, too, close enough for Jason to make out their faces but too far to communicate with them. They were located higher up so it was difficult to drop down to the bottom without a grapple. In a higher viewing deck, there was a group of cloaked figures, maybe the elders who will be spectating the battle.

He stood near the ledge, looking over the dusty fighting arena. A part of him worried about Marinette especially after that breakdown she had. Something told him her triggers originated not only from her childhood.

The metal gates opened not long after. The three League heirs slipped out, each carrying different weapons. Damian had his usual katanas, and their other brother (Danyal, if he remembered the name Marinette mentioned) had a crossbow and a sword. Meanwhile Marinette . . .

"Is that a rifle?" Tim rubbed his eyes in disbelief. True enough, Marinette had a gun hoisted over her shoulder.

"Won't that, I don't know, be bad for mobility?" Added Dick.

He wasn't wrong. It was a large empty arena with no obstacles or structures to climb over. If there was a fight going on, they'd have to constantly move around often to attack and dodge. Jason only hoped Marinette knew what she was doing.

The triplets moved to the center to talk but their conversation couldn't be heard from their spot. The gates opened again, this time welcoming hordes of assassins. The three wasted no time positioning themselves back-to-back in defensive stances.

"It's a test," Jason mumbled.

"Like if their assassins skills are rusty?" Tim asked. Jason only shrugged in response.

The fight began with the sound of a horn.

Jason focused on Marinette first, curious about her next moves. She had strapped the rifle to her back and opted for a closer range combat, armed with blades. Right off the bat, he could see that her fighting style was deadly. Sharp. Jason could almost liken it to Cass' movements. But if Cass' fighting was like an art form, a dance with her opponents, Marinette's was extremely flawless—she never made a wrong move, no unnecessary actions. By League standards, she was a perfect soldier.

Next, his gaze wandered off to the other boy, Danyal, who looked like a near copy of Damian. His fighting was more fluid, as swiftly moved around their attackers to deliver his own blows. When Damian was in combat, he was more aggressive, like a blazing fire. Danyal on the other hand was a shadow, a trick of the eye.

What Jason found strange was the uncanny calmness that washed over him whenever he watched Danyal.

The battle was in the triplets' favor so far. Jason shuddered at how well the three worked together, aside from their individual prowess. Where one sibling had an opening, the other covered and when one attacked, another supported from behind. They were like clockwork turning in sync, as if they had each other's moves memorized and predicted.

No wonder they were separated, Jason thought.

Another thing he noticed was that they never seemed to have the intent to kill. Bodies were being knocked out left and right but they were only immobilized with injury or unconscious at most. Soon, all their opponents were down, leaving the three catching their breaths and wiping blood off their skin.

The horn sounded again, but this time no more assassins were released into the arena. The triplets looked towards the upper deck, where the League members were staying.

"Are they . . . supposed to fight each other now?" said Tim.

Jason inhaled sharply. The League would keep them there forever until only one heir remained. Maybe they would kill the hostages one by one as a threat. He clenched his jaw. "We have to get out of here."

Dick headed straight for the door behind them, but it was locked and bolted shut. Tim was looking around for another way to escape.

But Jason watched.

Damian, Danyal, and Marinette had faced each other, each drawing their weapons.

Then they attacked. 

---

Zalgo Text: "Stay away from my location." "Do not come until I ask for you."

Hey, if you like my works, you can support me on Ko-fi :3

[decks-writing-blog]

Use This Power for Good

Summary: Gordon discovers that upon dying, he comes back and everything resets, including other people who had died.

[A/N] I'm a sucker for video game protagonists having the power to reset via death. It's neat and full of good angst opportunities. Also when I played Half-Life for the first time I was fairly save-scummy to save as many scientists as I could so upon Youtube reccing me a video about just how many it's physically possible to save, I of course watched it (I missed a bunch in my playthrough). Which, combined with the first thing, is what inspired this fic.

Also, my first Half-Life fic, yay! I'm late to the party but that's okay. Such is the case with most of the fandoms I write for these days.

Content Warning for temporary Character Death. He also commits suicide to purposefully trigger one of these resets.

~

Upon stepping out of the destroyed test chamber and realizing just how bad things had gotten, Gordon had been pretty sure he wasn’t likely to live much longer. The military showing up to clear out the alien invasion and all who knew of it made death inevitable. The HEV suit had done a lot to keep him alive but it could only do so much. But hey, he’d made it further than he ever would’ve thought he might, if he’d been given the time to think about it anyway. Along the way he’d helped as many as he could. Hopefully a few of them would be able to get out… somehow.

Gordon shifted in a vain attempt to make himself more comfortable. All he accomplished was sending a fresh stab of pain through his side as more blood welled out between his fingers. It was pooling on the floor around him and smeared on the wall behind him, filling the air with its now familiar coppery smell. If it spread a little further it’d soon start mingling with the pool of blood leaking out of the solider that had snuck up on him while he’d barely manged to fumble his way into taking out the rest of their squad. They’d died for the effort – Gordon may have never killed anything before today but he had been taught how to use a gun – but the fatal blow had already been made.

Perhaps something profound could be said about their blood mingling in death whilst surrounded by more dead, both alien and human alike. Something about the fragility of life even amongst beings from another world. Or maybe about how violence and killing wasn’t just a human trait but that of all life, regardless of its origin. … Or maybe Gordon was just starting to grow delirious with blood loss.

The end couldn’t be far off. His extremities, gone cold were now growing numb. He couldn’t even properly feel the blood oozing from where he clutched his side, his grip weakening letting it flow even more freely. Not that he’d been able to staunch it particularly well anyway. If his attempt to do so slowed his demise, it hadn’t been by much.

Darkness pulled at him, eating at the edges of his vision, tempting him to close his eyes and fall asleep. He didn’t. Fighting was futile but he’d known that for a while now, far longer than he’d been sitting here waiting to bleed out for. He was going to keep breathing for a long as he possibly could if for no other reason than to spite the world for just that little bit longer because fuck it for trying to kill him so hard.

~

Gordon blinked. Before him was a familiar hallway, leading to a closed door. On the other side of which would be a military squad, waiting to ambush him. He shouldn’t know that but he’d already gone through that door and… hadn’t survived the encounter.

Shaking a little, he looked down at himself. He was holding his shotgun as he’d been upon first going into that room, down but ready to snap up and fire should the need arise. The HEV suit was a bit scratched up and dented in a few spots but it was intact, no glaring hole in the side from an almost point blank shotgun blast that also tore up his side bad enough to leave him to slowly bleed out. It was fully charged too, meaning it could likely take such a blow and leave him only a little bruised. A quick check with the suit revealed all his ammo wasn’t as depleted as it should’ve been either.

What the hell was going on? One moment he’d been bleeding out, struggling for each and every breath. But now he was hearty and healthy again, as if the last twenty or so minutes hadn’t happened. … A dream or hallucination perhaps? This was the single most stressful day of his life after all, surely such things weren’t too far out of the question. It had felt so real though, especially the pain. Surely such pain couldn’t have been a dream. What else could it have been though?

If he went through that door, would the military squad be there again? Would the fellow who’d killed him? Only one way to find out.

He crept forward and pressed his ear to the door. … Nothing for a while but then… low muttering and the shifting of heavy boots. The door muffled the words to the point he couldn’t understand them but someone was certainly on the other side. Multiple someones since the speaker was most likely talking to someone else.

Straightening, he reached up and pressed the button to bring the HEV’s helmet up before adjusting his grip on his shotgun and bursting into the room. Exactly as before he was met with three soldiers immediately. Last time, he’d been somewhat surprised and had had to scramble. This time he knew exactly where to go and wasted no time in doing so.

Two more soldiers were waiting for him there but he was ready for them this time. As he got into position, he lifted the shotgun and blasted the closer one in the face, making their head explode in a shower of gore. Kicking the body into the guy behind them gave the perfect opportunity to blow their head off too. He hadn’t gotten a good look at either of their faces in either instance he was here but they had been standing in about the same exact spot. No time to think about that now though.

In response to Gordon moving to cover, the next two soldiers moved to the same positions as before. And then, sealing the deal that his death hadn’t been a dream, while Gordon was looking at them, the third came up behind him, ready to try to blast through the suit with a point blank shot while he was busy taking out the others. Knowing it was coming, Gordon turned and fired before they could get that close. Another close range head shot. Effective, especially with how heavily armored the soldiers’ torsos were, but gosh were they horrific. But with that guy down, the last two weren’t too much of an issue to take out as well.

As the gunshot’s echoes petered out, he lifted a hand to lower his helmet, allowing him to see properly once more. These military guys all looked similar, especially with their heads blown off, so there was still technically room to doubt they were the same ones he’d killed before dying himself. But they’d been in the same spots and had tried the same tactics to kill him so that doubt was rather small, bolstered only by the impossibility of not just Gordon coming back to life but the soldiers too.

Then again, before staring to work at Black Mesa almost a handful of years ago now, there’d been plenty of other things Gordon had thought impossible that proved to not be. Perhaps direct exposure to the resonance cascade had done something to him, altered the way time affected him or dropped him in a parallel universe upon dying. Or something else he was too frazzled to consider right now.

It was fascinating whatever it was. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be back in the lab, studying it. … Except well, testing it would likely involve him dying some more or just again, assuming it could only happen once. In which case he didn’t really want to test it after all. After he got out of here, he’d try to find a way to study it that didn’t involve dying… assuming he ever got out of here. He’d just learned the hard way that, no matter how many aliens, zombies, or military goons he killed, he was still a soft squishy animal protected only by a hazard suit that even as advanced as it was, was still far from infallible.

~

Three more accidental deaths sealed the deal that when he died, he came back a seemingly random amount of time before that death. As before, with his death, everyone and everything else who’d also died in that time came back too, ignorant of the revival. Annoying when it came to the beings responsible for his death – though it did make killing them again easier – but a great good for the scientist he managed to save as a result. Which sealed the deal on him using this power for good.

How long had he been in this state? Presumably since the resonance cascade. If only he’d known, there were so many he’d tried and failed to save. Too late now though, he’d just have to do whatever he could to save everyone else that he could. … Which would undoubtedly mean he’d have to eventually face the decision of killing himself to reset things. Not a thing he was looking forward so he could only hope it wouldn’t happen soon. But of course it did.

The scientist screamed as the giant worm-like alien burst through the window to impale him with its sharp beak like protrusion. He kept screaming, his voice gurgling and wet, as it dragged him across the floor and out the window. It finally stopped a few moments later, leaving Gordon in a heavy silence as he stared at the trail of blood, leading to the broken window.

He took a couple steps forward and peeked out. There were three of them and they were huge. Or perhaps it was just one being with multiple appendages. Even after the horror he’d just seen it commit, it was still awe-inspiring. Alien life was likely just a complex and varied as that of Earth’s. Biology wasn’t Gordon’s passion or expertise but he still had an interest in it, enough to make him wish studying these beings were an option. … Especially since that would mean they wouldn’t be killing people because now he had to make a choice.

Continue forward and if he happened to die and come back at time to allow him to save the fellow he’d just watched die horribly or kill himself now and save him for sure. Not a comfortable choice. He didn’t even know the guy, this wasn’t the part of Black Mesa he worked in. But if he had the the power to help, he was morally obligated to, right? He certainly would’ve if he’d known it was an option back when he failed to save people he did know.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled out back stepped to where the alien creature couldn’t easily reach him through the window. That had looked a painful way to die, he had no wish to experience it. Instead he pulled out his pistol and placed it to his the side of his head. It was cold against his flesh, held steady only by how firmly he pressed it there. It would be okay though, he’d already died and come back four times, a fifth wouldn’t be too bad and this should be a much quicker death, maybe even painless. He would never be able live with himself if he had the power to prevent people’s death but refused because he was frightened.

If he had to do it though, it’d be really damn nice if he could send himself all the way back to the start though. Even if that meant restarting this whole nightmare, it’d be worth it. But even if he hadn’t known of his power then, he did now, meaning he had to use it. So after taking a deep breath, he held it for a few seconds before pulling the trigger.

~

Sirens blared as lights flashed and sparked around him, making him feel dizzy and unwell. Pushing himself up and the back to his feet, he looked around. … He was in the test chamber again, right after all everything had gone wrong. Seems, his thought of wanting to go back had somehow brought him back here; he had some control over whatever this was.

A good thing, this was what he’d wanted. But also… he’d made it so far. Now he had to do all that again. Lying down for a nap first would’ve been great but he didn’t have time. Lives were at stack and depending on him. Also, he was bound to learn more about this power of his along the way. That was going to be interesting, though likely unpleasant as well, to say the least. So he squared his shoulders, shook himself off as best he could and marched out to begin the nightmare again. This time, he was going to save everyone he possibly could, even if that meant dying a dozen more times.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Copper Beeches pt 2

I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. "Data! data! data!" he cried impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation.

Holmes is worried. He really does seem to always worry about women in potentially abusive situations. This is also why the werid Enola Holmes law suit was weird, btw. The argument for that was that Holmes wasn't depicted as caring about women until the later works, which were not out of copyright, yet this was published in 1892. He's literally referencing a theoretical sister here in a way that clearly shows he would be a concerned brother.

"Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow," it said. "Do come! I am at my wit's end. HUNTER.

I love the tone of this telegram. It's got that 'please' at the beginning, to be polite, but then at the end it's less 'I'm scared' and more exasperation.

"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning."

Alas, the acetones will have to wait. Holmes is both willing to postpone his chemistry, but also concerned that he will need to be his best.

By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital.

Such a weird little historical note there. London's been the capital city of England since... Idk... around the Normal conquest in 1066? I don't know if there's an exact date. Most people these days wouldn't even know that Winchester used to be an important city, but Watson's just slipping that in there.

Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.

Another lovely description of the scenery and the weather. Everything's so nice. What a lovely day to prevent a crime. And Holmes taking time to look at the scenery.

"You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there."

Holmes is super optimistic. This entire speech about the country is why Midsomer Murders exists. Lolol. Look at the idyllic countryside, just full of crime and violence.

"But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law."

I feel like that's a little rude of you. I'm pretty sure that even in the countryside people know that murder and theft are illegal.

"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them."

I want to know what these seven explanations are. I really do.

"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no actual ill-treatment from Mr and Mrs Rucastle."

I feel like this is more luck than anything else. The man is very creepy. We have not yet met the wife, but if she is anything like her husbad described her, she too is very creepy.

"I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother."

The fact that she's a stepmother doesn't fill me with confidence in this matter. Still not sure Alice isn't buried under the floorboards. Not to malign stepparents, but in stories like this, they're often the bad guys.

"Mrs Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it if possible."

This is the most insulting description of a person. She's just nothingness personified. Although this in itself is unsettling. The fact that her husband seems to have such a big personality and she just fades into the background and tries to pre-empt his needs. Eeeh... I'm getting weird vibes. Maybe she's just a naturally retiring and quiet person. But it feels more like a woman who is scared of upsetting her husband. We once again have only the husband's reported word that Alice left because of her.

And sometimes she's just found crying?

Yeeeah. I'm not into this. Nope. Not good.

More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, little birds, and insects.

Ah, our earlier suspicions about the child are accurate, it seems. This is a serial killer in the making. If this were a modern story he would have killed his older sister by pushing her down the stairs and his parents would be covering it up.

I don't know where the creepy servants come in. Maybe they just don't like the Rucastles because they're serial killers?

"'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely obliged.'"

Creeeeepy creepy creepy creepy. Just skin-crawlingly creepy. Don't comment on her appearance, dickhead. This is just a whole pile of weird.

"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige"

I've looked up beige but I still don't really understand what this means, because yes it did used to refer to a fabric, but the fabric was specifically undyed wool. This fabric is definitely dyed, so... Is it a woollen dress?

"...then Mr Rucastle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary."

So he wants her to dress up pretty and listen to his stand-up routine?

"They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief."

I'm always so happy when the people who come to Holmes do their own detective work. Like Mr Melas in the last story, getting the information out of poor Paul under the villains' noses. Miss Hunter here is not just accepting what's going on, she's trying to actively decipher it. Alas, her subterfuge is discovered and she is turned into an active participant in whatever game the Rucastles are playing on the man in the street outside.

Interesting that Mrs Rucastle is the one who takes the initiative here. Clearly she's not as silent a partner in this as she appears.

"'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness' sake don't you ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life is worth.'"

Ah good. Animal cruelty and oblique threats to her life. That's what we like to see. 'We essentially starve our dog to make sure he's aggressive' is such a dick move. I can see where little Edward gets his animal cruelty from. A chip off the old block, that one.

This family is just so messed up.

Holmes has connections with loads of people, he must know someone who needs a governess and isn't a complete nightmare of a person.

"The very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair."

Yep, that's Alice's hair. I don't think I remember Alice being buried under the floorboards, but I honestly wouldn't put it past these people.

"There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked."

Oooooh. Alice is locked in the secret wing of the house. How very Bluebeard.

I once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door.

The mind does automatically go to 'body', doesn't it? I don't think it is a body, but that is what I thought immediately on reading this.

Violet Hunter does pretty much all the leg work in this story. She works out that there's someone behind her, she discovers the forbidden rooms, she sneaks into them. She gets so close to discovering the truth and then...

I turned and ran—ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, and straight into the arms of Mr Rucastle, who was waiting outside.

Well... this isn't going to end well.

"'My dear young lady! my dear young lady!'—you cannot think how caressing and soothing his manner was—'and what has frightened you, my dear young lady?' "But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against him."

Glad to see that she's finally seeing through him and has the sense not to tell him what she saw. Although she probably shouldn't have left the door open.

"'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that threshold again'—here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon—'I'll throw you to the mastiff.'"

Ah, there it is, a direct threat to her life. His illusions of civility are peeled back and he's no longer just creepy, but actively horrible.

I do like Violet Hunter, she's such an active participant in events. She doesn't just present a puzzle and then let Holmes tell her what's up, she sniffs around and tries to work out what's going on. And what's going on is a whole lot of bad news.

I'm not sure why Alice is locked in the forbidden wing of the house, but that really doesn't matter. I didn't think she was in Philadelphia. It might be a story a little similar to Miss Sutherland's. She has an inheritance and if she marries, her father and stepmother will no longer have access to it, so locked in her rooms she must be and a doppelganger brought out to pretend that Alice is still happy and healthy.

A whole house full of horrible people. And that poor dog.

I wonder what happened to Alice's mother.

[suekreandtheidiots]

There was an "Incorrect OC quotes" generator hype going on on IG a while ago and, of course, I couldn't not. 😂 I only just remembered that I wanted to take one particular quote PLUS a story reply from my friend Teo aka @teo-s-art-corner as an opportunity to ramble about some of the teenage gang a bit. The boys, to be precise. 😂

(I don't care if I'm shouting into the void here, that timeline gives me so much life, teenagers are hilarious. 😂 I also enjoy the feeling that writing them gives me, but that's for a different conversation!)

ANYHOO. Let's go!

"Fozzy is the most straightforward."

Yep. In a way, he is. Lance is very straightforward, too, as in "not afraid to speak his mind", but Fozzy has the tendency to just blurt out with whatever comes to his mind, without thinking. Lance is a liiittle more mindful about the things he says. He doesn't exactly have a filter either, he is just more "collected" in his choice of words, while Fozzy is just... BLAH, regardless of how dumb he sounds. 😂 He always appears a little "simpler" than others but that isn't at all the case: Fozzy is really intelligent. So. much. more. than he ever appears. I'm not saying he has the same academic brain that Lance has, but he's actually really clever... and calculating, of all things. That's part of why his parents were so desperate about him squandering a huge chunk of his youth and falling for sex, drugs and rock'n'roll instead. They knew that their son was a hundred percent aware what he was getting himself into there, they knew he knew he had the potential to do better. He just didn't care, he wanted to go nuts. It drove his parents mad. There's a certain darkness to Fozzy (at least to his younger version), too, that is hard to put into words... but it's definitely there. But yeah... unfiltered madness, for sure. 🤣

"Cal is oddly specific in his choice to commit violence."

Alright, this was a super fun sentiment (thanks Teo, I'm cackling again 😂) but I gotta say here that Cal really isn't one to randomly commit violence. 😂 Still, I always imagined him to have this bit of... hilarious randomness about him? Which makes this fitting. He just says weird and funny things at times, he's a delightful person, blessed with the kind of wit that makes people laugh. (Something I see in Ali, too, by the way. Both Cal and Ali have a bit of a male Lorelai Gilmore vibe to them, if I HAD to give an example.) So, when Cal blurts out with something like the above, he usually really doesn't want to punch people in the neck, it's just something randomly creative that comes to his mind and that he feels like sharing. 😂

"Mark is very polite."

He is. Mark is, indeed, very polite. A little calmer than his peers, too. I know I talked a little about him before, but I'll say it again: Despite all the weird crap, Mark was the most "progressive" of the gang in their time. Feminism, racism, ableism... pretty much anything regarding social injustice he had a better, clearer grasp of than his friends. The "male ego" wasn't really a thing for him, he knew how to properly apologise when he did or said something wrong, he was usually the one to call out sexist remarks towards the girls that most other boys usually tried to brush off as "Come on, it was a joke!". He sure had his flaws but Mark was a bit of a walking green flag. 😂 Girls felt safe around him, without actually being able to point out why. I still don't know what he does for a living nowadays but I really kinda see him working as an equal opportunities commissioner of a company or something. I don't know yet but he still has it in him, and he only got better over time. There's a reason Aimee stuck by his side. She saw all of it early on!

"Lance is seeing the bigger picture."

True. Lance's brain often goes where others don't. He is a pretty dominant person, too. I hate the term alpha-male for it's extremely negative connotation, Lance is aboslutely not that person, but he really is a bit of a natural leader; he just takes charge without thinking too much of it. He has major problems with authority, too. 😂 Sooo, seeing the bigger picture is a thing for him, mainly because he thinks that he has to, to stay in charge and protect his peers, but wanting to assert dominance for the sake of asserting/maintaining dominance also kinda is a thing for him. 🤣 It's hard to explain. He's just such a handful and I love him to pieces. 🤣

"Tim is wondering why he's still hanging out with these guys."

... yeah. 😂 I mean, Tim totally appreciates the friends he picks and the fun times he has with them, but I think what I failed to express so far is that Tim isn't actually always super cute and easygoing. He isn't exactly the Voice of Reason. He's more like the one who watches the stupidity unfold and who laughs when someone gets burned. 🤣 He's friend material in his own way, he values loyalty and he's kindhearted, too. He's blunt as fuck, though, and easily annoyed, too, which has always been a thing for him, not just because those weirdos tested his patience all the time. I know next to nothing about D&D but I always kinda saw him as this extremely annoyed healer of an adventuring party who sure does what he's there to do, but who often hasn't a whole lot of empathy to offer on top of that, especially not when the stupid outcome could have easily been prevented. 🤣 "Ah, she called you out on your shit? Good!", "Oh man, you have a hangover? Really? Those 38 shots were a bit too much, you think? Pf, lol, told you so. *carelessly tosses a pack of aspirin*" ... Tim was willing to stick around for anyone for sympathy, but he never tried to make excuses for anybody. Which made it easy for him to walk out on Cal, Fozzy (and Mark) when they planned the stupid prank on Lance. Being blunt and honest is one thing. Deliberately planning to cause harm and hurt was another. It was neither about demonising Cal nor protecting/coddling Lance, the whole thing was just something he couldn't have lived with, so he did the best he could think of and backed out.

Some additional thoughts:

I never wanted to create this little group as a mix of stereotypes, liiike... there isn't the designated "Goofball" or the "Stupid One" or the "Brainy One" or whatever else role there is that could be filled, so pleasepleaseplease always take these kinda things with a wee grain of salt! 😂 One of the parts I enjoy most about my own worldbuilding is how I want everyone to be humans in first place. Humans who don't always do what people expect them to, who are capable to surprise others, who have off days and also dull moments.

It's also why I don't really like answering questions like "Who is the most (insert adjective)?" ... like, sure, there are characters who have traits that shine brighter than their other traits, and I do enjoy a wee brush of stereotype here and there, too, of course, but I usually don't really think in certain categories and I really love keeping things and interactions as natural as possible. I just want to see people as a whole person and that is how I always treat my OCs, too!

[0fps]

okayyyy i finally finished the main wuwa story. thoughts (brain dump) below, obviously spoilers so read at your own risk

acts 5 and 6 definitely >>>>>>>>>>>>>> the others. idk if it's because i had digested the world building a bit more by then but they felt way more engaging than the previous acts

partly because all the interesting parties (for me) were finally here. the black shores, jiyan's whole deal. scar was the most interesting of the previous acts but honestly idrgaf about him aksdjflads

dude was not even RELEVANT in these acts they really meant it when they put his ass in jail

i am quite interested in the black shores, hope to see more of them

otherwise just having to do everything with the starter group was boring as hell especially since they all have extremely flat characterizations (yangyang particularly. WHY did she of all people have to be our token partner).

disclaimer, i don't exactly hate yangyang but in general it just feels so unrealistically forced how her and chixia immediately treat mc like their best friend. we barely know each other. i think this is the part that got last-minute rewritten to make them overbearingly nice and it really shows (?? correct me if i'm wrong. idk if it's specifically those two who got rewritten)

i play in the mandarin dub btw. because apparently that's critical for yangyang ajdflkjf

as for the other characters. aalto and encore are so funny together, absolutely loved them. just their characters alone doing their whole comedy routine made act 5 a lot of fun

act 6 was obviously the climax, and i enjoyed it for what it is, but i also felt like it dragged on? like. you'd THINK after we meet up with jiyan we'd immediately go confront the threnodian like asap? they keep spouting how "time is of the essence" but hold on we gotta do all these sidequests?? repair shit?? come on yall LMAO

like the part where we're coming up with our "battle strategy" (which lol. yeah the ranged units should probably attack from a range. only the greatest tactical minds could come up with this) HONESTLY they should have black screened that shit or summarized it in like a few sentences. that was so ?????????? why am i even here.

ofc the cannon thing or whatever is out of power mortefi. of course it is.

i was enjoying act 6 pretty much until this part. then i was like really. REALLY we gotta do all this first I WANT TO GO FIGHT THE BOSS NOWWWWW

idk it just felt like they hyped us up almost immediately for a final battle but then edged us on for forever? the pacing felt weirdly backwards if you know what i mean

i was also just laughing at how concerned they were about the disrupter missing its target. like. you guys are aiming at a giant ball on the horizon you gotta be trying REALLY hard to miss this. the cutscene that showed how small the cannon was in comparison to the force field did not help adjksflasd. maybe if they were talking about the other 2 shots then sure.

once the cannon was repaired and that was over and our 4-man team was finally on their way i was back into it though

really really loved the pulling mechanic thing

however it was just another strike in which i've noticed that this game tends to overexplain some of the gameplay. that pulling mechanic was definitely one thing, the whole "battle strategy" part was another, and the one with the library in one of the previous acts was HORRENDOUS they may as well have reached out of the computer screen and held my hand

literally the only time i respected yangyang was when she decided to stay behind to hold off the enemies. bc istg if she was the one we had to do the final boss with. god. lord. hold me back from the violence i would have committed.

boss battle was a lot of fun. got my ass kicked by threnodian bc i couldn't read its moves but they made it easy to not die 👍

the little. pet thing. that eats the big echos. sooooooo unserious HAHAHAHA AJSDKLJFALD. i'm not going to think about it too hard.

was kind of weird to end that on a montage through a story teller. like i was expecting SOME sort of epilogue but it really went "yup. that's over! go play the rest of the game now"

anyways. despite my grievances i had fun with it HAHA 👍👍👍

i really enjoyed that it did cycle through a lot of story-relevant characters to trial with. it helps that i find all of them super fun to play and it helps keep things super immersive (although i did miss my girl danjin)

a similar thing i really loved was how involved almost every single playable character was

in general a detail i really like is that npcs/playable characters battle alongside you (even in the overworld) - it really makes it feel more immersive and you're part of a team, not just solo'ing everything by yourself

although it was also too early in the story for me to feel. much about everyone helping us out in the beginning. like i literally don't even know yuanwu??? the power ranger shot with everyone felt kinda silly as a result adjklajdfs

i also enjoyed the switching pov with jiyan. in the same vein as above it makes it feel more immersive and far less like the entire world revolves around the mc (although that's the plot device wuwa is desperately clinging onto here lol)

on that note. in general this whole story i'm just like. not really sold with the way literally everyone is so obsessed with mc its just like yeah you're PROBABLY that amazing resonator from way back when and i have a feeling a couple of these characters might have known them from before they lost their memories (esp scar?) but it just feels. very super ultra forced in a way i don't really like

but apparently that's what they're gonna use to drive the story and i can't expect them to rewrite all this (again? lol) so it is what it is i guess *shrugs*

the mc's fame will be less in your face as the story progresses and they actually DO more things. but right now its like. we just woke up and everyone is so obsessed with us lol can we have literally anybody who doesn't care or is like. this sure is fucking weird huh. for a world constantly in turmoil y'all sure are very trusting of this random person with amnesia

mc in general just feels really flat. yangyang being the token partner doesn't help because she is equally as flat. damn maybe we really do need paimon

oh also another detail that kind of bothered me. when we were talking with jinhsi early on there was a dialogue option to ask "have you found jue yet?" while EVERYONE is standing there. i thought this was a secret thing people aren't supposed to know about??? we're just talking about secrets out in the open like this?

what else. i liked the the jiyan and geshu lin phantom confrontation 👍 but it does feel like they're really leaning into the "yeah geshu lin was 99% in the wrong here and that 1% is gonna be jiyan's inner turmoil" and i was kind of hoping it'd be more complex than that

anyways if you read through all that props to you 👍

[captain-astors]

3, 6, 9, 16 for the violence ask?

HELLO

HI!!

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

Oh god well I don't have a screenshot but, one that comes to mind quickly was basically some person insisting that Furuta was somehow a good person who didn't actually do anything besides the misogyny and My Friend Did We Read The Same Manga. I'm 90% sure it was a byproduct of the "your blorbos must be morally justified" era of fandoms but WOW. He has decent reasons, but he still commits terrible atrocities that are not by any means excusable and he's aware of that. He's making himself into a Saturday morning cartoon villain, and it's an active decision? Honestly I'd rather see him be misinterpreted as the shallow force of evil he paints himself as, because at least that conclusion makes sense. How do you even get there.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

This fandom has really mellowed out in its old age but I'd honestly just say either of the two big Kaneki ships (Touken, Hidekane) not because I hate their fans or anything, but just because they're the only ones I've seen stir up ship arguments At All in my brief time here. People have all been pretty respectful of each other's pairings from what I've witnessed, because beggars can't be choosers. These two pairings are the worst of almost no annoyance whatsoever. Certain things aren't my cup of tea, but no one's forced anything on me in my time here. The most controversy on this blog was the old man chronicles and honestly I didn't really care about that. Aro headcanons can be important to people, and understandably! There's such little representation.

9. worst part of canon

The constant trauma being piled on everyone that makes it feel almost cartoonish and unrealistic because almost no one responds to those events like they should unless it's convenient, and wishywashy takeaway. "We're all deserving of a life!" (Unless you're a problem.)

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Soulmates, but that might just be because every one I've read feels like an excuse for lack of chemistry. It's cool when it's not a literal thing, like "We keep being brought together, almost like I was meant to fall in love with you" but once it turns into actual law of how that world functions, "Your name is written on my heart and I am incapable of loving anyone else because the laws of this AU dictate it so" it feels odd. There are so many cooler things to do with stuff like that.

I had the most disgustingly artificial strawberry of my life while writing that last one and I think it influenced the tone.

[steampunkforever]

I feel I've often been quoted as saying that propaganda films should at least be well done. Usually I level this at military propaganda or films directed by people who think they're Micheal Tomasky and Adam McKay's long lost child. Which is to say, people justifying the countless foreign and domestic human rights abuses of the GWOT and also Ivy Leaguers with heads too far up their own diplomas to understand how American social issues might cause people to (*scandalized gasp*) vote Republican.

Of course most of my critiques are aimed at bad political soapboxing and movies where cops/soldiers violate constitutional rights/commit war crimes. Simply put, there are more bad propaganda films than good ones. Preaching is best left in the pulpit, and is worst when shoehorned into the narrative rather than into the subtext. Because of this, we rarely see a well done propaganda film, but if we're looking for one, Steven Spielberg's 2005 film "Munich" is a pristine example.

Quick sidebar: Spielberg is Jewish, despite the viral post referencing his ownership of MLK's speeches calling him white, and his political leanings reflect Zionist attitudes. In the conversation of Jewish history within media and entertainment, the conclusions often go ugly places regarding who controls the establishment and pushes narratives. To that point, one should be careful when discussing media narratives about the Israel-Palestine conflict.

As far as those media narratives go, Munich is much more nuanced than I expected. This is a film about the aftermath of the 1972 Olympics, in which Palestinian terrorist group Black September massacred 11 members of the Israeli Olympic team and were subsequently hunted down and executed by secret Israeli hit squads for their participation in the massacre. No need to get too sympathetic for the guys who tossed grenades into helicopters full of handcuffed hostages.

For a film about murdering terrorists, Munich is surprisingly good at giving the other side a chance to state its motivations. I'm sure that if you're pro-Palestinian it's not a satisfying representation of the Palestinian viewpoint, but for outright propaganda I'd say this was still a pretty solid dialogue between ideologies. Paired with the narrative's acknowledgement that much of this Israeli savagery was neither morally correct nor wholly warranted, and I will say I was impressed with how subtly Spielberg managed what could have just been "the IDF does John Wayne's Green Beret."

Subtlety only goes so far in propaganda, I will admit. At the tail end of the film, we witness two key conversations that spell out the movie's final conclusion. The first, between the protagonist and his mother, concludes with the assertion that for Jews to find a place they can be safe, they must forcibly take and hold it. The second conversation, held between the protagonist and his Mossad handler in what is the final scene of the film, assures us that the violence was simply a nasty inevitability. This is the takeaway of the film: It's worth it, and they had it coming.

Maybe those specific guys did deserve it. I would also assassinate terrorists killing my countrymen, even if they really were "doing an anti-imperialism." Except propaganda requires context, and Munich entered production in the middle of the Second Intifada, the conflict that set conditions for the current Israeli apartheid state as we know it. This is the context Munich speaks to.

"It was worth it." "They deserved it." The final shot of the film, a pan up from the final conversation, pulls out wide and holds on a view of the World Trade Center's twin towers. The connections Spielberg makes here are clear. Either way you read it, it's an ugly piece of propaganda. It's also incredibly well done.

[emerals]

the lads but it’s cards against humanity

some of these are funny most aren’t lmao

prompts are bolded!!

OZZY - - Seeing my father cry; kid-tested, mother-approved. - Step 1: A sorry excuse for a father. Step 2: Vehicular manslaughter. Step 3: Profit. - What's my secret power? Fucking all my dad's friends. - What's that smell? Poor life choices.

JUNIPER - - Excuse me, straight man, but all the different kinds of lesbians isn't for you, STRAIGHT MAN. - Mr. and Mrs. Diaz, we called you because we're concerned about Cynthia. Are you aware that your daughter is throwing grapes at a man until he loses touch with reality? - Girls. High five, bro. - A romantic candlelit dinner would be incomplete without getting serial killed.

XIMENA - - I never truly understood hot people until I encountered your mom. - But before I kill you, Mr. Bond, I must show you vigorous jazz hands. - That's right, I killed heteronormativity. How, you ask? Bees? - For my next trick, I will pull science out of a Bop It.

WHITTANY - - I drink to forget being rich. - Uh, hey guys, I know this was my idea, but I'm having serious doubts about breaking into song and dance. - I got 99 problems but crumbs all over the god damn carpet ain't one. - Hey guys, welcome to Chili's! Would you like to start the night off right with kissing grandma on the forehead and turning off her life support?

ASH - - Arby's We Have completely unwarranted confidence. - When I am President, I will create the Department of a bitch slap. - Hey Reddit! I'm judging everyone. Ask me anything. - I'm LeBron James, and when I'm not slamming dunks, I love two Xanax and a bottle of wine.

VIVIAN - - YAAAAAAS! You are serving me daddy issues realness! - Dude, do not go in that bathroom. There's men in there. - What's the best metaphor for our political system? 30 shirtless bears emerging from the fog. - 50% of all marriages end in listening to her problems without trying to solve them.

EVERETT - - In the new Disney Channel Original Movie, Hannah Montana struggles with the patriarchy for the first time. - What are my parents hiding from me? Saying "I love you". - As the mom of five rambunctious boys, I'm no stranger to a little boy who won't shut the fuck up about dinosaurs. - If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love committing treason?

KIWI - - Mamma Mia. Here I go again. My! My! How can I resist giggling like an anime girl? - Kids, I don't need drugs to get high. I'm high on sunshine an rainbows. - TSA guidelines now prohibits wizard music on airplanes. - My fellow Americans: Before this decade we will have Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson on the moon!

DEAN - - I get by with a little help from self-loathing. - I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure what you're suffering from is called "being fucking pathetic". - Your dreams are one click away! Learn more at Hope.com. - What's the most emo? A lifetime of sadness.

NIX - - Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's menstrual rage. - The class field trip was completely ruined by whatever straight people do for fun. - It's a pity that kids these days are all getting involved with unfathomable stupidity. - Old MacDonald had dark and mysterious forces beyond our control. E-I-E-I-O.

HUNTER - - Howdy neighbor! I couldn't help but notice you struggling with getting into a pretty bad car accident. Need a hand? - Why can't I sleep at night? Dead parents. - When I was tripping on acid, BATMAN! turned into therapy. - I'm Tony Robbins, and over the next sixty minutes I'm going to teach you how to harness the power of the Kool-Aid Man!

DOTTIE - - What's there a ton of in heaven? Some god damn peace and quiet. - What's a girl's best friend? Solving problems with violence. - I'm going on a cleanse this week. Nothing but kale juice and silence. - IF you like sipping kombucha like a smug piece of shit, YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK.

ADEN - - Check me out, yo! I call this dance move "establishing dominance." - White people like drinking gasoline to see what it tastes like. - Just saw this upsetting video! Please retweet!! #stopmyinnerdemons - Why do I hurt all over? A mistake.

SYLVIA - - Designers! For this week's challenge, you must make a dress designed for telling Heather she can't pull off that top. - Daddy, why is mommy crying? Toxic masculinity. - And the Academy Award for complaining goes to the careless cunt who left a water ring on my credenza. - Why am I sticky? Soup that is too hot.

LOUIE - - Instead of coal, Santa now gives the bad children PTSD. - We're here! We're doing crimes! Get used to it! - Today on Maury: "Help! My son is being a motherfucking sorcerer!" - Premiering tonight: NBC's new heartfelt family drama, This Is an old guy who's almost dead.

MARSHALL - - I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of some guy. - What never fails to liven up the party? Being on fire. - Well if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a date with kayaking with my sluts. - Here is the church. Here is the steeple. Open the doors and there is a messy bitch who lives for drama.