#but also perish! what's your fucking problem dude

[fairybumpkin]

biting and killing the roommate causing all the trouble for the rest of us really has the nerve to ask me not to wear my pajama shorts around the house because they "look like boxers". die

[sokumotanaka]

So I didn't hyjack this poor person's post over [here.]

I thought making my own post would be the most logical conclusion. So it takes alot in my opinion to bury your head in the ground and pretend like you smart when you're so overly stupid.

Here's a discussion I had with a person where alot of alarming and stupid things were said on his part. @/crimsonxe

Well go through small sections, that's a lie, you know I'm long winded.

Here's a section where he states that writing about killing, maiming, and calling minorities bad isn't nearly as bad. I mentioned Miles calling Tifa a prostitute as well and I don't think he's getting it.

Manner of dress:

The problem isn't getting over it or not, the issue with calling remake Tifa a prosisitue is that she dresses more modest than the rwby cast, he has children with short skirts, no pants under and boob windows in frozen tundra. If he thinks THIS is provocative,

then him okaying THESE

designs on children is something he's mentally aware of! also weiss spends most of her time in that outfit in a frozen wasteland and then COMPLAINS about being cold!

Get over it? More like Have enough common sense not to post stuff like that. A wise man once said "just because you think of a tweet doesn't mean you have to hit send." (Also he says it's not fanservicey, need I remind everyone they sell a ruby body pillow, Yang always had her tits out and then as time goes on they start losing more and more clothing. Not fanservice my ass!)

Grown man argument for sexualizing teen girls.

"They don't go overboard." Here's a picture of a woman wearing chainmail on her bare skin in the desert, there's a difference between puritanical and horny silly designs after them saying shit like "we won't do the stupid stuff anime does" and then having the whole cast of female characters with their tits and ass out.

Also not to stun your pee brain, but writing racism as "If we want respect and equality then we have to forgive our bigot overlords and defend them with not even a thank you." Is stupid, that be like me telling you that if you want minorities forgiveness, go fight cops, or me going to england and saying that. Blake tells unrelated faunus to fight armed dudes and the writers are stupid. And the overall issue is HBomberguy was right! In his review he stated that he was afraid that a certain group of people would look at how the faunus act and go "yeah that's how They are" uncharitable takes exist.

And he was right a bunch of RWBY stans who were racist before vanishing literally came around going "boy did miles and kerry get you guys pegged, you're all exactly like this!" During the 98% most peaceful protesting age, well unless your a cop who wants to shoot out someone's eyes.

The LGBT pair (s)?

Yeah like the cardboard cutout guys miles pouted about when he didn't get credit for putting out there after people in the LGBT community asked when were the LGBT characters gonna appear.

The first Gay rep in the show was two unrelated characters we'd never see again after saying "characters" just don't promise things then lie forehead!

Or the second Rep LGBT character Illia! A woman who took her crush and was gonna- *Looks at paper* Send her to her abuser while also blaming her for dating someone and not knowing her romantic feelings.

"I guess you were too busy looking at Adam to notice me."

Yeah great first cardboard then a woman willing to kill off her her crushes family and blames her crush for not knowing she had a crush on her!

Oh how about bumblbee? With Yang literally saying she viewed Blake as an object and wanted her around for her solely? You know fuck what Blake wants! Blaming Blake for running in fear when WF ruin a nation and Adam states he'll kill everyone she loves and he knows exactly where her parents are? Perish the thought, that sounds like something a scared child would exactly do! But Yang goes "No despite us not officially dating yet I'm owed her time and presence.

Yang's shitty, and it takes how long for them to get together? They don't even wait until adam cold before Yang claims her, after abusing her mentally when Blake tells her Adam likes to make you feel small and she brushes her off and is like "stop talking to me." Then they kiss what? THIS year? 2023? In volume 3 sun's winking at her and she's blushing and smiling and calling him a dork and they're hanging out, and I'm sitting here going "Do some of that for yang? All they did was share a dance, have her flirt with her or wink, something." And what she compliments her hair once? Granted I stopped after 7/8 so I bet the best LGBT rep happ- This just in, I'm getting word from my friends in the LGBT community who watched rwby saying that it's dogshit.

Having tons of LBGT characters doesn't matter if you write them like trash I guess, btw the first kiss happened in volume 9 in 2023 and rwby started in 015 and again sun flirts, winks etc and they show alot of chemistry with each other.

Yang gets mad, demands blake be there when EVERYONE else is going back home too! Trauma dumps on her after using a laser pointer on her when Blake admits that she's tired of dealing with racism.

Like instead of talking to her, Yang treats her like an animal an laughs it off then trauma dumps about her mom on her while blake is already highly stressed. Doesn't even solve the problem btw. All the LGBT characters thus far (besides Jaune's sister and her girlfriend, they can stay, sadly they're trapped in a shitty show) are horribly written for no reason.

A second writer should look at these before they hit the screen.

Racism

He talks about a south park reference which I ignored cause it's so random?

racist dog whistling.

"Mika burton spun things a certain way." Nah there's tweets w of people admitting they fucked up and the achievement hunters go online , they bring her on a podcast and pretend to cry so people can feel bad for them. And good for her she doesn't forgive them. So spinning around? How about a source? Source can't be that you made it the fuck up cause that's not a source it's a sentence wasting everyone's time.

Also "Mile's isn't white." Aw man what am I gonna tell mile's white parent? Sorry some dude on the internet said your son can't be half white, sorry me I can't be half black, or Hawaiian, Sorry Miles because you look more black your Hispanic traits don't matter for the sake of the argument. What kinda of Juvenile , stupid statement IS this? He can't be white because you say so? But he calls himself white in many tweets and literally in the statement of writing racism in RWBY.

Also nice try, moving the goalpost means you can't lose. "I'm not defending him, now watch as I waste time defending him instead of finding a source against Mika's claims cause I'm bullshitting." I mean Mika doesn't even have a reason to lie, RT employees all admitted they heard and did nothing, Torian a black animator and editor also stated he had race issues with RT and Pat boivan from Castle super beast and pat stares at made a black joke that Miles and select few members laughed at in terms of them having no black or brown people working there. And they ignore woolie when it comes to sponsored stuff, he literally says this on multiple episodes of his show, and THAT's Worrying!

Point is if Miles himself is racist, weather he's white, Hispanic, black etc he still displayed racist behavior multiple times too many. He had a chance to say something to his employees, he didn't bother, he got nervous and waked off. He had the chance when he put BLM after the lashings he got and do something with that, change the company for the better etc, but he didn't he put it there as a band-aid and took it off when he thought people weren't looking.

I keep beating this dead horse because people like you don't seem to do research at all! Because in the face of it it's easier to lie, play dumb (pffft 'play') and make excuses for them instead of holding them accountable.

I didn't want to see RT burn down for a while, but they keep pulling a blizzard, and all these, tweets, articles, statements that miles or the others say or do that's stupid, harmful, racist, shitty keep popping up! At this point it be better as a lesson not to be shitty humans for RT to quietly burn, no special treatment, I'm holding them to the same standard I do for David cage, for activation Blizzard and many other triple A companies. If you don't wanna go down in flames, maybe don't do reprehensible things that keep burning bridges for you. Simple, don't be stupid forhead!

The real mornic stuff was listening to you try and fail at mental gymnastics and not provide a single source for anything you claimed I should "be in awe" of or switching the goal post. RT.s failing and they stacked the deck against themselves, THAT's why people hate them, statements like they saying that when yang drives down the crossroads to Mistral and people guessing she's going to Ruby only for them to like and say "if you heard the bike go one way." These critics, video's, and articles don't exist for no reason.

Pathetic, utterly pathetic, you boasted a big game , puffed out your chest and then walked straight into a cold clock and got your ass handed to you for several rounds. For someone who boasted about "getting in the ring" No flatter yourself, you weren't even competiton.

[ellecdc]

Hi! spokenfolk here! Was contemplating on using my main (read: reblog) account or just sending an anon bc apparently you can't send asks on your secondary blog ?! Horrible. Preposterous. Absolutely frustrating! (Apparently, this has been a problem for years??? They should really optimize that. And can I really call it a main account when all I do on here is reblog??)

Opted for the latter because the experience of being seen is mortifying; self-cringe has still yet to perish on my end. 😭

Anyways.

CRYING. SEETHING. WRITHING LIKE A WORM! Literally jumped out of bed this morning to run to your blog the moment I got the notif and I would just like to say — Remus is such a LOSER!! (negative connotation to him, positive connotation to the quality of your writing) My heart reaches out for (Y/N) and Amelia Bones :( they both don't deserve whatever convoluted circus act Remus calls a masterplan. Really excited to see Moony's perspective on this 👀 hopefully soon?

Cheers,

— 🥞

p.s. 😭 I've realized that my blog can't be tagged because I haven't posted anything in it yet WAHAHAHA! I'll make a quick post for visibility's sake. Really sorry about that L!

Ugh spokenfolk, the mortifying ordeal of being known - I GET IT!!!!

Also, thank you for clarifying all of this for me??? I’m so new to tumblr so ppl asked to be on a tag list and I was like ???? Ok bet and I tried and it wouldn’t let me tag some people and I’m like??????????? I’m terrible at everything???? Why can’t I even just tag people in posts, the fuck???? GOOD TO KNOW!!!

Also right? Poor stupid remus I just had to take a break from writing cuz the bastard was pissing me off so much. Part of me sort of thought our reader wouldn’t be offended when she inevitably found out about this but everyone is ready for some reader angst! What do we think? Does our whimsical!reader get her feelings hurt because of our resident dumbass?

I know remus thinks/believes he’s doing the right thing, but if even SIRIUS is like “ew dude, cringe”, somethings not right.

I tried to break up the angst with Peter and James and I laughed at my own writing (embarrassing) so hopefully y’all enjoyed the comedic relief too 💖

[orphanedwolfandfriends]

So fellers, I can't promise that this'll be the last post I make about them. They don't fucking listen when they're the reason why nothing's going their way. I may be petty, but blocking, reporting, and IP banning them with the handy dandy statcounter is STRONGLY recommended (if you can afford to anyway, statcounter has a monthly payment thing).

I personally suspect that they have an alt account that none of us are aware of, and I'll say with full confidence that I could be wrong.

I started knowing they existed on account of their dry writing and their godmodding, and after, they'd start to ask a mutual some intrusive and condescending messages on why they're so kind to me. Not my character apparently, me. They don't bother to learn character names and just use URLs to shit talk. They'd ask why there's fanart of my woof child and their muse, which lmao, why's that a fucking problem? Mind your own beezwax. They would also bombard that mutual with asks about their shadowban issue, why can the mutual see other people's asks instead of theirs, and the most the mutual could do was tell them what it means and how they can fix it (which they never did). And as you might've seen earlier, they said me drawing fanart of fictional characters was "weird" and talked about it like it was self insert art I was doing. Self insert art's not even an issue to begin with but yet they took it personally lmao. Perish. Also I wouldn't make my self insert be a fucking child, and the art wasn't even shippy in the slightest.

It got to the point where my mutual blocked them, and they moved onto a Vegeta blog, and really milked that cow dry for how long they'd keep messaging them and whining about them not jivin' with the godmodding, along with complaining to that Vegeta and someone else about everyone making bad comments about their oc. If you look into their blog, you'll see that this person does not have a bio what so ever. Not even in a separate post. So quite clearly they're just expecting everyone to submit to her Mary Sue powers despite the fact we know nothing about them. They even info dumped the same Vegeta through an ask which, dude. Limited text. Look it up.

And then, they would bombard a Raditz rper and bitch about how he's not submitting to their random stranger shit while Raditz accepted a fucking BLT from one of my adult muses, bombard an oc blog like "you're flirting with Raditz, I can tell, your oc's not any better than MINE", AND, try to act like they're such a hotshot at writing, which as you might've guessed, they're not. And they're actively painting themselves in a bad light instead of listening to people and accepting boundaries. They also bugged the shit out of a Beerus mutual, and another mutual who writes ocs, just 'cause the other's muse was just vibin' and giving Beerus food. There's literally nothing wrong with that, yet they'd keep bugging the other mutual with shit like "oh beerus is only keeping you around 'cause you're giving him food, beerus isn't nice blahblahblah".

Do you see a pattern here? They'll get pissy when they don't get any attention from all four of those characters, and send jealous, petty bitch-sounding messages over two friggin children that are just being nice. Imagine being jealous of a fucking child. Actually suck in that shame like a juice box, 'cause that is PATHETIC. Jealousy is legitimately not a healthy thing to have, especially over something like roleplay, and when you actively guilt trip or shit talk them just 'cause of that, that's even more pathetic. And hella possessive. Good luck being possessive when the muns aren't interested in your oc to begin with lmao.

They also chased off somebody after stalking them for a full on year, as I've been told, which from people saying "that explains a lot" when I said who they were, that's...unsettling. Not surprising, but unsettling. And they're suspected to be another individual named Skye. I dunno if that's true but that's why I say "suspected."

TLDR; Please for your own sanity, block @phoenixissims and report them for their harassment. Do whatever you can to keep them far away from you as possible. The Dragon Ball side of the RPC is not the only RPC they've harassed over the years, so it isn't their first rodeo with being annoying and creepy. Do not waste your time with a message.

Now with all that out of the way, phoenixissims, go fuck yourself with a pitchfork, and everyone else? Have a nice rest of the month. I'm going back to my usual tomfoolery.

[ceasarslegion]

Im an atheistic satanist myself but christians who think god would be anti-abortion are either stupid as fuck or havent read their own holy book

First off, how many cities and tribes and people in general has god smited from existence for one reason or another? Dude's not exactly into the sanctity of life or whatever when it's someone he doesn't like

Second, if an anti-abortion god created all of human biology, you'd think miscarrying wouldn't be a biological failsafe to save the pregnant person's health or life in the event of a potential problem with the embryo. You'd also think that billions of sperm wouldn't be doomed to perish after an egg gets fertilized or that that same sperm wouldn't be constantly purged and recycled in the testes to keep them fresh and in good shape for someone who doesn't ejaculate regularly. And what the hell are stillbirths if your god is so anti-abortion?

Plus I thought he was omnipotent and could see all including all of time, do you really think he'd be bamboozled by sending the cure for cancer in the brain of an embryo he knew would be aborted? Fuck off

[aceofspadegrass]

Superhero AU

Okay okay, listen. Imagine them being superheros/villains.

So Arisu, Karube, Chota, and Shibuki are regular adults doing normal adult things, nothing changes about that. Shibuki is a part of this because she can, she’s just pals with a group of dudes and doesn’t mind it at all because they’re all genuinely good people.

Anyways, because life wanted to fuck with them, something happens. Maybe it was a shady guy giving them weird drinks or jewelry or whatever, maybe it was a freak accident that gave them powers. Whatever the cause was, they receive powers out of their control at first and are now tasked with using said powers for the greater good of humanity.

Why? Well the city they’ve lived in all their lives has been terrorized by a villainous group, or maybe separate villains that just so happen to be in the area. Either way, the group is tasked with protecting the city or else terrible things will continue to happen. The city was already being protected by one group of heroes, but the villains are getting more and more frisky and dangerous.

So now it’s up to them to help. Yay.

Arisu and his friends do form their own mini superhero team, because there’s nothing better than fighting alongside your friends. :D

Arisu was tasked with the nice power of what can be counted as future sight and analytical planning. Basically he can track the future movements of anyone within a room as well as problem solve in case a problem has occurred. Example being that they are stuck in a rapidly flooding room with ninjas… or something like that. He’d be able to not only track the ninjas movements but also seek a way to escape the room before they all drown. When he does this time effectively stops for him, like a game where he has to make choices that appear in front of him and allow him time to think before acting.

Karube gets a sort of super strength ability. It thankfully isn’t one where he has it at full power all the time, or else some things may get a bit convoluted, but when he puts his mind to it he can punch and kick and shatter a spine if he really wanted to. He can manipulate it as well so it can fit more daily needs, like opening a tough pickle jar, so it’s handy.

Chota has the power to see through walls and record them, which can be handy in case there’s something the others needs to see but is obscured. He also can turn it off and on at will, and Shibuki makes sure he isn’t doing it for anything dirty (because this power can be used entirely for really bad intents). It at the very least makes his eyes like projectors when he shows the others the recording (which is as long as he can keep his eyes open. When he blinks it cut the recording there) and can only hold one recording at a time as the power overwrites it each time.

Shibuki gets the power of oral/written word manipulation. It’s like a super version of hypnosis really, where she can get anyone to follow her requests without much resistance. That is, unless the person has an immunity or high resistance to it. It in itself sounds like a weak power compared to the others, but words are powerful depending on what she says, and for her it doesn’t have to be in close contact or even spoken. Shibuki can induce her power into a written sentence or small paragraph and trick her victim into reading it. It all depends on her getting to her intended victim.

Together, they form a pretty formidable team together and protect the city, although they do have to work to make a name for themselves. Which gives the added bonus of villains gunning for them. How fun.

Of course they’re not the only superhero group in the city, just the newest ones. The other team, which had been previously keeping the villains at bay, end up hearing about this new team, and their leader gets interested in them.

So what ends up happening is that the leader and his right hand man meet Arisu and the others at the local coffee shop, because obviously this is super important and all important things happen in cafes or bars somehow.

The leader simply introduces himself as Hatter, and his right hand as Aguni. Arisu already knew about them from news articles, and occasionally fangames about them. Anyways, Hatter questions them on random things, mostly about their work ethics and how willing they are to put their lives into this city. Not everyone is prepared to have a whole population on their shoulders after all, and there’s always a loom of death over their heads at all times.

Of course Arisu falters for a bit, nobody wants to die an early death out of their control, but it was also for the greater good. So he (and the others) state that they were completely willing to help their community, because it meant other people can live their lives knowing that they can be safe from the threats that are outside normal human abilities.

Well Hatter loved their spunk, and he ends up inviting them to come join his little Hero Union so they could have a little less to worry about on their plates. After a bit of conversation the four end up agreeing, and Hatter takes them to an apartment building that he owns, which double as a superhero base for his (and now Arisu’s) team. The base serves as free housing and availability to weapons and immediate medical attention in case they need it. Hatter didn’t mind if they preferred their old homes instead, the offer always remains.

Especially the medical bay. Superhero business is tough work.

Arisu and his friends eventually meet up with Hatter’s team of heroes.

Hatter, the leader, has the power of what Arisu can only explain it as ‘The Power of Teamwork’. It basically works in two ways: A) Hatter can summon hordes of anything he puts his mind to, although only can keep one horde at a time, and the amount entirely depends on how many he can muster. The less energy he has, the smaller the horde. This is ridiculously powerful, but it drains a lot out of him so he can’t do this half too much. Plus he can’t control the horde that much, outside of one simple command which they will do until they perish. B) Hatter can boost his teammate’s powers. This one is much easier on his bones, but the boost again reflects on his own ability to muster it up. There’s no limit to how many people he can boost, but the more he does the less each person gets.

Aguni has plant manipulation (Mmm delicious Chlorokinesis….), and can therefore summon and control any plant in any way that he chooses. He can make them grow and move in any way that he wants them to, however he can only do so in sunlight, so he has to rely on natural strength or weapons at night. Aguni also can summon plants from his hands, although not trees, and it doesn’t hurt him as long as it isn’t a cactus. When he summons from his hand it simply undergoes a fast forwarded version of its growth, which looks cool as fuck.

Ann is the resident necromancer, as well as owning the ability to test any substance or object for origin or ownership on the spot just by touching it (It works through gloves don’t worry). She usually doesn’t act on her necromancy powers often, and when she does it doesn’t last long, only using it to temporarily gain information from the dead or heal dead tissue on a living person. Her superhero work mainly resides off-field, but she is still capable outside of it.

Chishiya has both invisibility and teleportation, which explains for itself. He can remain invisible for as long as he wishes, although is still tangible to others, and can still interact with objects. Teleportation can happen in any area as long as he is aware of the area existing. Chishiya can also teleport while invisible and remains as such, so the only thing keeping him from being a little shit for everyone’s privacy is his own morals. Anything he wears becomes invisible with him, but anything he carries does not, however will teleport with him.

Kuzuryuu has a power similar to Arisu’s future sight, however it works that he only sees a justifiable future depending on events that has been shown or described to him. Basically, he takes in what he’s given and sees what would be the best possible solution to take based on that information. It’s not perfect, as any new information given changes his future sight, even if the information is false. If he can’t disprove it he has to include it. He also can’t see any factors that he isn’t able to know.

Niragi has what basically is ‘Glitching in Real Life’. Basically any silly glitch or cheat mechanic that a game could have, he can do. It’s a bit of a broken power (literally), but it also can be dangerous if he isn’t careful because he isn’t in a game and is still human. Any object he interacts with can share the glitch ability, but only one at a time, and Niragi still has to comply with some rules of physics. So… he can’t breathe if he clips into anything solid. However it is extremely funny to watch him repeatedly jump and freeze objects in the air to stand on.

Mira has a power that counts as hypnosis, but convoluted. She basically makes everything a game, and the loser has to comply to the conditions set in place. Usually they are quick and simple games, but the conditions can be brutal depending on how she feels like. She of course is also liable to the conditions, so she finds it in her favour to win.

Last Boss gets sharp pointy summons. It’s exactly how it sounds, he gets to summon anything sharp (and by anything it means anything) and use it however he wants. It ranges from swords to glass shards to thumb tacks to just a very sharp spoon handle. Last Boss doesn’t even have to hold it, as he can summon them to shoot from the ground or specifically rain on a target.

Anyways, they have to get along and protect the city when they can. Hatter lets Arisu to continue protecting with his little group of friends, but also lets him borrow one of his people if he needs their help, with consent from the other party of course.

( Does Mira end up evil in this? No, thankfully. However every time she speaks about her past Arisu is low-key convinced she might have been a supervillain at one point and is just in retirement as a hero now)

Usagi is also a part of this, but she’s instead a solo hero who works on her own terms and slowly gets integrated into Arisu’s little friend group. She does help them on occasion, but prefers to just vibe and climb things instead of focusing all her time in hero work. Her powers are in the same vein, in that she can climb any surface she wants without risk of falling if she doesn’t want to fall.

No shame in that. She knows Arisu has all the help he needs and helps only when she needs to be. They can be friends outside of hero work.

Does she get kidnapped a few times in an attempt to be leverage for Arisu? Yeah. Does she manage to escape on her own terms a few times? Yeah. Usagi is simply trying to vibe and be supportive in this AU.

Kuina and Tatta are both normal civilians in this. Kuina is Chishiya’s friend and acts as his normalcy factor, because hero work takes a lot out of a person and even Chishiya deserves some time where he doesn’t have to think about being a hero for people he actually doesn’t emotionally feel for.

Tatta just works at the local coffee shop and occasionally as maintenance for the apartment base. He also acts as a sense of normalcy for everyone. Just a good friend all around.

[crystalkleure]

Haha hey remember that post I made awhile back, speculating on what a bad idea it might be to fuse dead things in the godless Frankenstein fossil machine

Meet White. He is a reanimated corpse. Two of them, actually. Or more like 1.5. [And I whipped up this half-assed partial reference sheet in one night instead of sleeping, so don’t look too hard at the chickenscratch lineart and visible guidelines, and kindly ignore the total lack of shading as well as any other messy jankiness.]

White is a product of me wondering not only about what happens if you NecroFuse a human with a Pokemon, but also what happens if you make it even worse and specifically fuse that human with a Pokemon capable of mega evolution. Because canon seems to imply that mega evolving is at best deeply uncomfortable -- and at worst outright agonizing -- for whatever creature is going through it.

Character Lore under the cut. Lots of text:

White is one of actually multiple undead guys who got mashed together with bits of dead Pokemon. They’re science experiments, so they've got the dex numbers of the Pokemon they're spliced with tattooed on the backs of their necks, and those numbers were treated as their names In The Evil Science Lab.

In his Original Life, White [and some of his buddies] got gored to death by some escaped Horrible Fucking Monsters that were accidentally [...and then not-so-accidentally] created via Two Pokemon At Once In A Fossil Resurrection Machine, because hey, it is SUPER easy to think you got Just One Thing's Bones from an excavation dig but then later you realize that Some Of Those Bones were from something TOTALLY different that just died in the same place. It happens. So, some Fossil Scientist People accidentally resurrected an Abomination, realized they fucked up pretty fast...and then started wondering if they REALLY fucked up or if this is Cool, Actually. And then the team of Science People split into two Morality Factions, with one half being like “This is unethical as shit, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again because it's not natural so who knows how this poor fucked up creature is suffering” and the other, cooler half being like “WE NEED TO DO THIS AGAIN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE SCIENCE. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES HOLY SHIT.”

Cooler group splits off from the Horrified Group With Morals, and they promptly use their Science Knowledge to Construct More Machines and Make More Monsters. Doesn't take too long for them to realize, however, that Abomination Pokemon are stupidly hard to control, because not only are they suffering, their masters obviously don't care for their wellbeing, so Revolt Inevitably Occurs and they escape to wreak havoc upon the nearest congregation of townspeople. They promptly maul some people to death at a nearby local rock concert, scientists chase after them to clean up the mess, realize “Oh Shit, Manslaughter Charges Impending”, and then realize...

Science Guy 1: “...Hey, what happens if you put a dead person in the fossil machine?”

Science Guy 2: “Hey, people probably listen better than Pokemon. We can, like, TALK to people.”

Science Guy 3: “Lads, I got a stellar idea just now. And we got plenty of Dead Guys to start with right here! Great way to hide the bodies too, probably.”

This goes approximately as well as you would expect, and precisely as ethically. A smashing success!

However, because they Fucking Died, the reanimated Newly-Monsterized dudes do not remember shit about who they were pre-resurrection. They're not technically even the same people, they’re more like clones. They've been remade. So, all they know now is Science Lab Life, and they have no initial attachment to eachother aside from "that other guy is also a Science Experiment Person just like me, so Same Hat @ Labrat Neighbour ig", in spite of several having been friends or even family prior to death. They also just...don’t know/remember things in general. They are fresh blank slates. And to a morally-bankrupt team of scientists, that’s perfect! They can train these guys to behave however they please!

...However, people might be People Instead Of Animals, meaning they can be Reasoned With And Manipulated And Coerced far better than animals due to their far better communication abilities with the Science People, but...there is Still A Problem in the sense that Holy Shit, A Person Can Only Take So Much. You can only treat someone as "Experiment [number]" for so long, blatantly putting no value on their life outside of The Value Of Scientific Research, in spite of literally basically needing to raise them like a normal child due to the Lack Of Memories issue. Eventually they're not gonna be able to take that anymore and they are gonna Fucking Leave, too. And they’re gonna be much harder to track down than the rampaging Pokemon were. Impossible, actually, once they’ve ripped out their tracking chips.

So then there's just these monster dudes, who don't actually know what they are because they weren't ever told anything more than necessary to get them to cooperate with Tests And Experiments, just Escaped Into Civilization and having NO idea how Anything works. Fun! Especially considering how, at first glance, these just look like Normal Dudes. Their monster bits either aren't apparent or just look like funky body modifications.

They've also got Science Things in them and they Don't Know What The Fuck Those Things Even Are. They've just got these little Devices in/on their chests, and they were never informed of the exact functions of them because there's no reason to explain to the experiment What Is Happening, just that the experiment needs to Hold Still and Cooperate and Now Do This, Now Do This, Now Do That, Good Job That's Enough For Today, etc.

Those devices contain both key stones and mega stones.

If you were a Mad Pokemon Scientist, you would most certainly be interested in the mega evolution phenomenon. What would YOU do if some of your Undead Fusion Experiments happened to be spliced with bits of Pokemon known to be capable of mega evolving? You’d kill two birds with one enigmatic set of stones, that’s what you’d do. Your Frankenstein Experiments can even TALK to you and tell you exactly what they are experiencing when you run tests on them! It’s perfect!

So, if a rock-bearing monster’s heart rate goes too high, part of the little device, which is a barrier between one type of rock and the other, opens up and Exposes One Rock To The Other Rock. Which exposes the monster to the Rock Energy Reaction. The greater the stress, the higher the dose. And I’m sure you can see the snowball effect that’s gonna create, at least the first time or two.

They were INTENDED to eventually be made to Physically Fight With Eachother to gauge the effects of The Rocks™️ when the Guys With The Rocks are under Stress and need to Do Some Self-Defense. The Science Squad was basically trying to suss out the Actual Purpose of mega evolution. Because mega evolution is weird -- it puts ENORMOUS stress on the body of whatever is undergoing it, so the hypothesis was that its true power is probably drawn out best via a perceived life-threatening situation, like it’s a type of hysterical strength, because what else would cause a need for that kind of ability. And aren’t ethics a bit overrated?

So, there’s our premise. White is just wandering around without any particular purpose outside of never ever going back to Science Hell, and he has no clue what the funny little doohickey buried in his chest does until it activates one day and absolutely fucks him up [...as well as everyone around him. Mega Absol radiate an Aura Of Sheer Terror that can literally scare people with weak hearts to death if they’re not careful.]

And now, some Miscellaneous Character Info:

The bit about Lots Of Death happening at a rock concert specifically was important. White was actually the vocalist of the band that was playing. He doesn’t remember that now, but he still loves music and has the same strong vocal cords. And THAT is important because White is partially an Absol now and Absol naturally learns Perish Song. These Fusion Monsters are absolutely capable of using Pokemon moves, though whether they’re aware of this is a different matter entirely. Imagine what happens when they end up tapping into those abilities accidentally.

That band was a relatively-unknown little local band. White was by no means anywhere near famous. Very few people even realized he was gone, and most of the ones who would have noticed also ended up Equally Unalive.

That black stuff between the belts on White’s arms is mesh. Like, stocking mesh. It gets Ripped The Fuck Apart when he goes Mega Mode and his arm fur gets Extra Spiky. Hence one stocking being a bit tattered in that reference pic. He frequently has to replace those things, they are fragile.

“How did White get his name if he doesn’t remember his original name and didn’t have a real name in the lab” I am glad you asked! Post-escape, he eventually encountered a situation where someone asked him what his name was, he bluntly told them “I don’t have one. I am #359.”, they said “Well That Is Not A Name, I need something proper to call you”, and he was just...Super Apathetic. So, the other person picked out the name “White” just based on the fact that White’s hair is white, and he just shrugged and rolled with it.

As you can see in my Incredibly Quick And Rough Sketches, the backs of White’s shirts are open to accommodate that huge amount of fur that bristles out into false wings when he goes Mega Mode. Because his Actual Normal Hair is relatively long and overlaps with that fur, it blends in with his Actual Normal Hair and doesn’t look too odd [when it’s down]. Probably mostly because nobody’s expecting it to be anything OTHER than Perfectly Normal Hair That Just Happens To Be Very Long.

White does not particularly like violence. White does not want to beat you up. He will, though, without a bit of hesitation, if there’s some logical reason he feels like it’s the most practical course of action. Being essentially raised by Cold, Emotionally-Sterile Scientists With No Care For The Wellbeing Other Living Beings uh, tends to affect a guy a little bit. White has a bit of an internal dilemma regarding “It would be efficient for me to just Harm This Other Person to defuse the current situation, because attempting nonviolence will be overall more risky somehow” vs. “Holy shit it feels bad when I hurt people. Why does it feel bad when I hurt people. Is it...SUPPOSED to feel bad when I hurt people?? No one ever felt bad for hurting me.” He Figures Out How Empathy Works Eventually. He is a good guy at heart. He is a Monotone Snarker, but not actually Cold or Malicious at all.

If an Absol can do it, White can probably do it. He has incredibly keen senses and a STRONG ability to Detect Impending Doom. He has exactly the amount of Supernatural Absol Powers you would expect. He is also stupidly physically strong, way more so than he appears to be.

White can’t punch people. Look at the fist he’s making in the pic, he’s doing it wrong. If you punch someone like that, you WILL break your own thumb. That’s not a Revving Up To Sock Someone pose, he’s just tense. He’s using his thumb as a buffer between his long-ass Sharp As Fuck claws and the flesh of his palm. If White tries to punch anybody, or just makes a proper fist at all, he will impale his own hand on his nails. Like, all the way through. He CAN slash straight through things like metal and bone with those claws, though.

White...is unsettling. Completely accidentally, and unknowingly. He just radiates an Aura Of Intimidation [...or Pressure], even when not in Mega Mode, that scales depending on his mood. Just being near him tends to put people and Pokemon on edge. Thus, he’s generally avoided.

The latter point is especially unfortunate, because White’s preferred method of Socializing and Bonding is to just kind of quietly hang out in the same room as whoever he is trying to Socialize and Bond with. He just wants to, like...chill out Near A Buddy and watch a movie and share a bag of chips or something. His social skills are predictably not good.

[lihikainanea]

ok .. ok ok so hear me out, 9/10 when I think of Tiger, I like full on relate her to the little tidbits we know about you and so I had this thought about our girl the other day, where maybe she's not really in the mood, but Bill very much is so he tries real hard to get her there (with consent) and he starts talking,, talking up a storm, a bunch of filth and he ends up saying something ridiculous that makes Tiger fucking cackle and IDK I FEEL LIKE THAT WOULD BE YOU TOO ILU *run and hides*

Okay legit, I LOVE THIS and I love this because I really did give tiger so many of my quirks (green onions can GTFO) and my inability to engage in, or receive, any dirty talk without busting out laughing IS ABSOLUTELY ONE OF THOSE THINGS.

There is a very significant reason as to why there is literally never any dirty talk between Bill and tiger and it is because I can’t even write it without laughing. You guys ever see that episode of Friends, where Ross is trying to talk dirty to his girlfriend, and he just stutters and goes “uhh....vulva.”

THAT’S ME.

But listen, as we explore this, I am kind of entertaining two trains of thought and I don’t know which one I prefer.

Is dirty talk something that tiger is super into and wants to do more of? Is Bill the one who is a little lost when it comes to it? But Good Dude Bill, anything his lady wants--she gets. So maybe he really gives it his best shot and as he’s working her up, he starts muttering filth in her ear--and tiger just guffaws. Loudly. Because poor Bill, he is good at so many things when it comes to sex, but dirty talk is not one of them. Maybe he’s even like...maybe he legit doesn’t know what to say so he’s using medical terms. And ain’t nothing kill the mood faster than some dude whispering vagina in your ear, you know? Tiger is dying.

OR, or is it really tiger the one who just has a knee-jerk reaction to dirty talk, and that reaction is to laugh. It’s not necessarily because it makes her uncomfortable, but maybe it’s just a vulnerability thing, a rather explicit thing. Tiger still isn’t too good with those. But maybe Bill is the one with the mouth that could make anyone blush, god the filth he can utter, and he takes it easy because tiger is still warming up a little to it.

I’ll touch on that second one later, because I have a delicious thought.*

Listen, either way, I love giggly sex. Giggly, dorky sex is just the best thing ever and with these two? It’s even better. They got stories you know? When you have that much sex, when you’re that comfortable with each other, when your partner is as tall as Bill....stories happen. A lot. They have gotten stuck and wedged into places that they then could not get out of. They have had sex on a balcony only to have a flashlight shone on them halfway through. Tiger has propped his upper body against a headboard and ridden him so hard that the headboard broke, and Bill tumbled backwards as tiger launched over him. Bill has thrusted into her so hard that she’s whacked her head against the headboard. Bill has tried to roll over and be on top and he’s rolled clear off the bed. He’s snuck up on her to manhandle her and have a little rough quickie and tiger has taken him down because she thought she was being jumped (in her own kitchen). They’ve broken a kitchen table. A couch has also perished, when she tackled him on it. Shower sex is now completely ruled out after a rather unfortunate trip to the ER.

They are no strangers to hilarity when it comes to sex. And maybe this is exactly it, you know? Tiger is in one of those moods where she doesn’t really want sex but like...she doesn’t not want it either. But Bill is real needy for it, so when that happens she usually tells him to try and preheat the oven and see what happens--almost always, she gets into it. It’s hard not to. And maybe they’ve been trying to sort of push tiger’s threshold for dirty talk, maybe they’ve agreed to start off slow and try and get her more into it (because Bill really does love it) but the problem is Bill loves some pretty explicit shit, and he’s trying to go slow about it. Trying not to build up too fast, in case she shuts down. He loves some explicit shit, and he’s kind of at a loss for the uh, lesser version of it. So maybe as his hands are up her shirt and his lips are attached to her neck, maybe he’s focusing a little too hard on what he should be saying--focusing a little too hard on what he’s holding BACK--and something else entirely slips out.

“Fuck kid,” he moans into her neck, “God I need to taste you. I want to lick your pretty little....labia.”

Tiger stills. Just for a second. And then a laugh rings in his ear so loud that he flinches.

“My WHAT,” she guffaws, and oh god, there’s no coming back from this. Tiger is dead, she’s heaving with laughter and Bill takes a sheepish sit back on the couch.

“I was trying to think!” he covers his face with his hands, embarrassed, “I know you hate the word pussy and I didn’t know what other word to use!”

“Labia,” tiger continues to shriek in laughter, she’s laughing so loud she’s wheezing, “Are you fucking kidding me.”

Bill starts to laugh too as tears come to her eyes. She reaches for him blindly, setting a hand on his knee as she leans forward and clutches her stomach.

“Oh god,” his shoulders shake with his own laughter now too, “Oh god that was so bad, kid.”

“So bad,” she agrees, swiping at her cheeks, “So bad, bud.”

She’s still going, on such a roll with her laughter and all Bill catches in between her loud chuckles is the word “labia” followed by even more laughter.

“Come on, that one gets a mulligan,” he begs, reaching for her again, “I can do better, I promise.”

“Don’t tell me bud,” she laughs as he pulls her onto his lap, “Tell my labia.”

*my other thought it as follows. Like, what if tiger doesn’t like dirty talk because it’s a vulnerability thing right, and she has asked Bill to help her work on some of her vulnerability issues. The eye contact in tantra is a big one that they’re working on, and this is another. So this beautiful bastard, you know what he does? He ties her up. All spread eagle and vulnerable for him on the bed, and he works her up real nice. And right when he has her feeling good--he stops. He stops, and he makes her tell him all the things she wants him to do to her. In a real dirty way. If she’s not being explicit enough, she gets a smack to the middle of her wide open legs. If she’s being good--then she gets what she wants. It’s so hard for the poor thing, to be that vulnerable while he stares her down and makes her talk filthy.

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Seven): Flying Towards An Early Grave

Notes: Still posting my little backlog, I will warn in advanced, the next chapter is the heist (finally) AND IT IS A CHONKER, but for now have a little appetizer with some fun times, smut, and foreshadowing!~

Word Count: 10860

Chapter Warnings: heavy foreshadowing, food, blowjobs, groping, protected vaginal sex, car sex

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V’s body is heavy as she gets to her apartment door, ready to curl up into bed and call it a day. She’s exhausted with adrenaline gone. She presses her thumb to the panel. The little intercom doorbell is also the lock, scanning and searching for SID validation. It takes a moment to scan, it seems to be lagging more lately. 

Calling. 

The intercom says it’s calling, why is it calling? She can hear the automated ringing and her lights inside are probably flashing. It only does this if the SID doesn’t match the apartment owner’s, assuming them a guest. V presses again. 

Calling. 

She presses harder. 

Calling. 

She tries her entire hand.

Calling. 

She kicks her door, a heavy sound as her boot collides with it. That doesn’t help with the lock, but it makes her feel a little better. Just what she needs; bloody, sore, and locked out of her apartment for who fucking knows why? Her stomach growls as she pulls up the number for building maintenance. 

“Megabuilding Maintenance, how can I help?” 

“I’m locked out of my apartment,” V signs, her choker translator on. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The lock isn’t recognizing my SID.” 

“Can I get your name and apartment number?” 

V gives them the details and they say they’re sending a maintenance guy. All of the services floor is nearly shut down at the late hour, her stomach growling. No doubt the maintenance guy will take his sweet fucking time, so much for getting some decent sleep. She gets a burrito, a Nicola, and a little thing of ketchup from the machines. Sitting on the ground near her door, dumping ketchup on her burrito as she eats it. 

By the time the guy arrives she’s finished eating, drinking, and is a little unsure what’s dried blood versus dried ketchup on her shirt. She hops to her feet when she sees the guy walking up, a massive case of resting bitch face. V doubts he wanted to be dragged out at three am to help unlock a door, but it’s not her fault the tech fucked up. 

“You V?” he asks, voice gruff and annoyed. 

“Yep.” 

“Hard day?”  His eyebrow raises, gaze focused on her blood stained flesh and chrome. 

“Work.” 

“Ah… I see,” he nods, “so, what's the issue with your door?” 

Night City is one of the few places where one can just admit to being a mercenary for a living, even if it did earn her an odd look. V presses her hand to the lock button again and it once again initiates a call. 

“Doesn’t recognize my SID.” 

“Hmm, you are V, right?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Who the fuck else would I be? The building has a picture of me on file for fucks sake.” 

“Hey, hey, nowadays with enough eddies anybody can look like anybody.” 

“If I had an identity worth stealing, you really think I’d be living here?” 

“Fair enough, let’s check something,” he pulls out a holo tablet, jacking it into the bottom of the intercom lock, “this will show what the lock is reading it as, try again.” 

V keeps an eye on his tablet as she presses her hand back to the lock and the projected information starts to show. And for a moment she sees herself; her face, her name, her information, and all the shit Vik had to set up for her to have SID. Then in a blink of an eye it glitches out and the information shifts. She watches her nearly mugshot like photo shift into that of a man, with short dark hair and dark eyes. V [REDACTED] becomes Robert John Linder. Birthdate shifting from November 12th, 2056 to November 16, 1988.  Birthplace shifting from Seven Devils, North Carolina to College Station, Texas.  

Who the hell is this old man? 

“Looks like it’s reading your SID chip as someone else's, strange, any chance you’ve been spiked by a ‘runner?” 

“No, even if I was, not sure why they’d want to make my SID register to some senior citizen.” 

“Weird, can’t think of how else this would happen? Seems like it starts to read your chip and then changes to this guy’s. Do you know him?” 

“Don’t hang around old folks homes too much, actually. Just some random dude to me.” 

“Hmmm.” 

“I can promise you, I’m not a ninety year old cowboy man.” 

“Somehow I noticed that, actually… looks like the guy is dead.” 

“What?” 

“Mmhmm, scroll down a bit and there’s the date his death certificate was issued,” the guy shows her, “you’ll probably need to have your SID looked at, see what’s wrong with it. For now, I can unlock it for you and have them add whoever this guy is to registered owners, so, you won’t be locked out until you fix it.” 

“Fine, I guess.” 

“But that does mean if this guy’s ghost decides to pop in for a visit, lock won’t stop him,” the man jokes, offering the first smile since he’s been here. 

“Somehow I’ll handle it, thanks for the help, and if it’s not too much trouble can you forward me the details of that SID info?” 

“Sure, no problem,” the maintenance man’s eyes glow and she can feel the very soft warmth and whirr of her neuroplant as it accepts the file. 

She gives one final thanks as he unlocks her apartment and she’s finally able to step foot inside. Thankfully her door locks behind her and she makes a beeline for her shower, scrubbing blood and sweat from her skin; finding bruises, cuts, and flesh wounds she hadn’t noticed in the midst of fighting. 

It takes her a little longer than expected to wind down for the night, the merc putting in her optic contacts and playing with the bot. Looking through its eyes, she has it twist and climb all throughout her apartment, making herself dizzy until she falls out of  bed and bangs her head against the floor. Finally, putting the cute spider looking tech away when she feels the knot starting to form on her head. Then, setting her alarm and sleeping for the night. 

V is still tired when her alarm vibrates beneath her pillow, waking her up as the sunlight streams in from her large window, warming her skin. She checks her phone, double checks the time and that Dex hasn’t sent the car for her yet. The young merc rushes through her morning routine; showering, brushing her teeth, dressing, and taking her medication with some Chromanticore in hopes of getting some energy back. 

She’s out the door and has her  mask on in a matter of minutes, phone buzzing with the message that Dex’s car is waiting for her. As she comes down the steps of her building she sees the same limousine and bodyguard waiting outside of it. But this time when he opens the door for her, there is no Dex, nobody. Chills creep their way up her spine, but she gets in nonetheless, sinking into the leather backseat as Dex’s guard starts to drive them away. 

The guard is quiet, doesn’t explain where they’re going or why, V has a feeling he wouldn’t tell even if she asked. So, she doesn’t. Only the radio drones on, a mixture of news and occasional pop music from bands and singers she doesn’t know or care to know; an anouncer coming over the radio to speak somberly. 

“Today marks the fifty-fourth anniversary of the attack on Arasaka Tower. Fifty-four years ago a group of terrorists stormed Arasaka Tower and detonated a bomb, which forever changed the history of our dear city. Devastating the lives of millions; thousands dying in the initial attack and more perishing in the aftermath as well. Today we ask for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in this senseless act of violence so many years ago….:” 

A beat of silence, barely a moment, then the high energy voice returns. 

“Now, after this short music break, we return with the heartwarming story of Stumpy, the three legged puppy who’s gone viral after the use of  veterinary cyberware has given the pup a new lease on life!~” 

V rolls her eyes, sounds about right, barely a moment for something so somber. No real grief or empathy, time to move on to a cute puppy because that keeps people happy and listening.  She watches the city around her change, spotting the Valentino graffiti starting to cover the buildings and that they’re entering Heywood.  She sends a heads up text to Jackie, letting him know they’re not far from his house. 

A short moment after,  the driver is parking outside Jackie’s garage and she watches the older merc walking out. The guard opens the limousine back door and Jackie relaxes when he sees V, climbing into the seat next to her. 

“Hey, V, you figure out what’s going on?” 

“Was sort of hoping you had…” 

“Asked T-Bug, said it’s a surprise.” 

“Not sure I like Bug’s idea of surprises.” 

“Hey, hombre,” Jackie calls out to the guard as he starts to drive them away, “mind telling us where we’re headed?” 

They’re met with silence, because of they are. V nervously wrings her hands as she watches for signs of where they’re going based on the passing scenery. 

“Has to be something to do with prepping for the job, just wish I knew what.” 

“Speaking of which, you got the bot on you?” 

“Yeah, brought it just in case and if Bug’s there she’ll want to take a look. Wonder if there’s any chance of keeping the Flathead after this?” 

She knows Dex said it’s a single use toy, but...who knows, maybe she could somehow keep it afterwards. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Its cute.” 

“You think a military grade combat bot is cute?” 

“It's a little spider.” 

“You find the weirdest shit cute, I swear.” 

“It is cute!” 

“It’s-” Jackie looks out the window, “shit are we in Corpo Plaza?” 

“Maybe we’re just passing through?” 

As if only to prove her wrong, the limousine parks outside a store on Senate Avenue, the bright sign says Jinguji. Even looking through the window, it looks entirely like a place that her and Jackie do not belong. Brightly lit, immaculately clean with fancy designer clothes on display. 

“We’re here,” the guard tells them and the doors open with the press of a button. 

V and Jackie share a look before getting out of the limousine, standing before the Jinguji store like deers stuck in headlights. 

“Dex can’t be serious, Jinguji?” Jackie says, scratching at the shaved underneath of his hair. 

“Looks…. Fancy.” 

“Corp store, designer; a sock in there will cost you a few thousand eddies.” 

“I know he says we need to play corpo, but… I don’t know, it feels weird.”

“I’m sure Dex knows what he’s doing. But, uh,  you gotta take off the mask, chica.” 

“What, why?” 

“‘Cause its fucking Jinguji, they’re not gonna let you through the door looking like that.” 

“You’re one to talk, you got a ketchup stain on your shirt.” 

“Firstly, that’s blood. Secondly, you’re a wearing a jacket you stole off a dead guy last week.” 

“Not like he needs it!” 

“Jackie, V!” A voice yells out, drawing the merc’s attention into the doorway of the store, T-Bug in realspace, wearing a black netrunning suit, “would you gonks stop bickering and get in here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the mercs speak and sign in unison, falling the netrunner into the corp store.

There’s a large lit up advertisement at the back of the store. Gold decor dripping down from the ceiling, plush white couches, and an ice bucket with champagne. To her surprise, there’s no other shoppers within the store. A man in a tailored designer suit sits at the desk, greeting the two mercs as they walk in. 

“Welcome to Jinguji, an oasis of elegance!~” 

V gives an awkward nod and wave. She’s not sure what else to do. She doesn’t belong here; she knows that much. A dirty black leather jacket under the bright lights and old raggedy boots on shiny polished floors.  The merc wants nothing more than to run out of the store, some of the clothes she sees displayed are nice, if she’s being honest. A few bit tacky for her taste, but others are cute or sexy with dramatic flair, but nothing she would ever really have a reason to wear. 

“Mind telling us why the fuck we’re here, Bug?” Jackie asks and the netrunner chuckles. 

“To get into Konpeki, you two will have to look the part. Rather than blindly guessing what will fit, Dex is flitting the bill and getting you both some corpo threads,” T-Bug explains, taking a seat on on of the couches. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“Store is rented out for the next couple hours, discretion. V, did you bring the bot?” 

“Got it in my bag.” 

“Lemme see, got to make sure it’s in working shape.” V puts the bot down on the table, T-Bug opening the case and looking over the bot, running diagnostics that the merc can’t begin to understand,

“Right this way, you two, I’m sure we’ll find something perfect for both of you,” the man who greeted them, grabs their attention again, “but it would be easier,  if I have a full idea of your features, miss.” 

“Told you,” Jackie taunts and V elbows him in the side, slowly taking off her mask and she feels bare. And she knows people have seen her face before, but this is work and it just feels… wrong. 

“Wonderful, so we’ll begin with the gentlemen, I think you’ll find we have a wonderful array of fine suits in our men’s department.” 

The man, who’s fancy name tag says Zane, shows them a vast collection of suits. They range from slick classic black ones, deep navy blues, florals, brights, embroidered, and every color she can imagine. Its hard to imagine the big merc in any of them. She’s always seen him in muscle shirts or his favorite red and black jacket. His eyes seem to land on a red suit with gold detailing. 

“Well-” 

“Point is to blend in, not stand out, Jack,” T-Bug calls out, scolding him without having to even look at him or his choice in suit. 

“Just black then.” 

“Wise choice, sir, our tailors will get your measurements and get the perfect fit for you.” 

Another employee guides Jackie to a fitting room and V feels the sudden urge to sink into the ground, Zane’s attention now solely on her.  She scratches at her cheek and flips on her choker translator. 

“Now, what about you? We have plenty of formal options in women’s fashion as well. A more androgynous business suit or perhaps a dress?” 

She’s shown mannequins dressed in tight body con dresses with various necklines, materials, colors, and a few well fitted pants suits. Her eyes are drawn to the dresses, if she’s being honest. She has a rather small collection of skirts and dresses, for off days, but she never has a chance to wear anything more formal than a sundress or mini skirt over leggings. These dresses are dramatic, gorgeous; some with mesh inlays or cut outs. 

But, like Bug said;  they’re there to blend in, not stand out. This isn’t an outfit for fun but for work and if something goes wrong, the last thing she needs is this going to shit and having to battle in a tight constricting dress or too high of heels. 

“I think a pants suit in black would be best; keep it simple.” 

“Understood.” 

V taken to a fitting room, given the chance to put on the ready to buy pantsuits in privacy. A stark white button up blouse, black blazer, and black slacks. And she knows immediately it will need to be tailored to suit her; the pants longer than her legs and the shirt loose around her chest. The tailor comes in after a moment and begins measuring, marking where things need to be taken in and raised. V left trying not to get embarrassed each time the measuring tape is wrapped around a part of her.

“Is there a way to make the blazer sleeves easier to roll up?” She signs once her arms are done being measured. The material is stiffer and harder to get tight around her elbows when trying; she wants her Mantis Blades easily used.

“Hmm, lets see, maybe it’d be best to use it more like an accessory rather than wearing it properly?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you could just wear it over your shoulders like a cape,” the woman drapes it that way across V’s shoulders. 

“Not my thing.” 

“Then you can carry it, like this,” the woman shows  holding the jacket back over her shoulder with her fingers hooked in it’s collar. It looks alright, casual enough, though having a jacket and not wearing it still reads as strange to the merc.

“I’ll consider that.” 

“It can also help keep you cool. Now, lets talk about makeup, hair, and shoes.” 

V listens and nods as the woman gives recommendations; getting V a pair of low heeled black synthetic leather shoes. Then going into advice on hair; recommending french twist, a bun, or a low ponytail depending on how formal V wants to go. The woman recommends simple classic makeup styles and a few other tips for the merc to meet her full corpo potential. Finally, with measurements, adjustments, and everything marked; V is allowed to change back into her street clothes. She leaves the room, seeing Jackie already in his regular clothes again and sitting next to T-Bug. 

“We have all the measurements down and will begin altering the clothes immediately.” 

“Good,” T-Bug confirms with Zane, “remember we need them finished and delivered to The Afterlife by five.” 

“I assure you, our tailors are already on it.” 

“V,” T-Bug calls out when she sees the short merc, “got something for you.” 

V sits down on the couch, watching as T-Bug sets out a pair of white hearing aids. They’re designed like her normal ones, just more boring. 

“Hearing aids? I already have those.” 

“These are special, optic camo. No corpo worth their salt has anything less than top of the line phonic implants, with press of a button or a thought, these will go invisible.. They’ll work just like your regular ones, but look like you’re wearing nothing. Try them out.” 

She switches her blue hearing aids with the new ones, they fit well and she pushes the thought of turning the camo on.  V catches her reflection in a mirror in the store, she can feel them, but see nothing. 

“Perfect, no one will be any the wiser. This also means no signing or translator.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

“I know its not ideal, but it’s just the reality of it. Corpo types like this; lose your hearing, new implants. Vocal chords fried, get a new set in gold. Get paralyzed, new legs or entire nervous system. Go blind, new optics. They see you signing or using hearing aids, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb.” 

“I get it.” 

“No sweat,  I’ll do the talking, V,” Jackie comforts her and then turns his attention to Bug, “So, what now?” 

“We’ll go over the full plan this evening at The Afterlife, you two need to be there by five. We’ll talk with Dex and you’ll be in Konpeki by eight tonight, relic in hand before midnight strikes.” 

“So we get to kick back and relax until five?” 

“As long as you’re there by five and ready to go, I couldn’t care less what you do, Jack.” 

“Said this place was rented out, right?” V asks, noticing a dramatic purple dress that reminds her of a certain tarot card reader’s favorite color.

“Yeah, why?” 

“How much longer is this place reserved?” 

“Another hour, maybe two and again, I ask why?” 

“Ow, hell that for, chica?” Jackie looks up when V kicks him in the shin. 

“Call Misty, dumbass. Buy her something nice, make a date out of it before we go on the job.”  V tells him, remembering Misty’s concerns from the other night. It might ease her mind a bit to have a nice afternoon with Jackie, dress shopping and a fancy lunch in City Center. Just a chance to enjoy themselves. 

“Dex is nice V, but sincerely doubt he wants to pay for Misty a new dress.” 

“Oh no, if only one of us had scammed ten grand off of Militech, oh wait,” V says, pulling the Militech credchip from her bag and sees the twinkle in Jackie’s eyes. 

“You serious, V?” 

“Should get her a hell of a nice dress, maybe you a suit, and a nice fancy lunch; play corpo for an afternoon.” 

“Shit, V,” he takes the credchip from her fingers, “what’d I do without you?” 

“You two are going to make me puke,” T-Bug says, rolling her eyes while Jackie is already calling up Misty. 

“Just wait until Misty gets here and the constant pet names start,  you’ll really lose your lunch.” 

“Ugh, more reason to get out of here, I’ll be taking the Flathead with me to keep in working shape.” 

“Can I ask you something before you go?”

“Got more code you need me to check?” 

“Not quite, had an issue with my SID chip last night, was wondering if there was a chance I was hacked?” 

“You get spiked, jaina?” Jackie asks when he finishes chatting with Misty. 

“Don’t know, couldn’t unlock my door last night, reader thought I was some old dude.” 

“Hmm, SID hacks are tricky, we’re going to be using one for your covers in Konpeki. But they usually only alter your ID a bit and die after so many hours. Thing is, that wouldn’t really benefit anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, I don’t think anyone would get much out of pretending I’m some ninety year old dead fuck.” 

“I can jack in, see if I find anything in your soft.” 

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” 

V shifts her back to T-Bug, sweeping her hair off the nape of her neck and showing her neuroports. The netrunner pushes some loose strands out of the way and slots her personal jack into V’s biomon. A few moments pass and V can feel her cheeks flushing a bit, a weird feeling to having T-Bug directly touch her and jack in to her tech. This is the first time they’ve met in person, may even be the first time Bug has seen her face. 

“Everything looks clear to me, SID is registering as yours, no signs of a hack,” Bug explains, jacking out. 

“Weird, maintenance guy showed last night it was showing as some dead guy.” 

“Strange, must be some sort of glitch.” 

“Or you’re being haunted.” 

“Haha, very funny, Jackie.” 

“Hello… “ 

A soft voice calls out and V lights up seeing Misty poking her head into the fancy luxury store, looking every bit as nervous as V had been. Jackie is up and rushing towards Misty in a heart beat, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around, kissing her head. 

“You’re here, mi carina.” 

“Babe,” Misty says, giggiling as she’s put back down on her feet, then steps up on her tip toes to kiss Jackie’s lips. 

“Gonna puke,” T-Bug comments low under her breath and V tries not to laugh. 

“V, Bug,” Misty smiles at the two, “glad I got here before you two left out.” 

“What’s up?” 

Jackie walks Misty over closer to them, large hand on her hip as she rummage through her purse. After a moment, she pulls out three beaded bracelets. A mixture of beads in black, gold, and blue mottled with gold. T-Bug is already raising her eyebrow and V’s not sure how well Misty’s spiritualism will go over with the runner. 

“These are protection bracelets. Lapis lazuli, black tourmaline, and gold sheen obsidian. They’re all meant to help with creating a protective spiritual barrier, it should keep you all safe from negative energies and frequencies.” 

“Ay, you still in knots over this, mi alma?” 

“It would just make me feel better knowing you have a little more protection, babe.” 

Misty slides the biggest of the bracelets onto Jackie’s wrist and he gives her a soft smile, kissing her temple before starts to give the others to V and Bug. The young merc slides it on with a smile and T-Bug takes it in hand, with a less enthusiasm. 

“Thanks, Misty, I appreciate it,” V tells her and elbows T-Bug in the side, earning her a glare, but the netrunner plays nice. 

“Thanks…” 

“I know it’s not much, but a little protection is better than none and should keep energies bright.” 

“Right….” 

“Well,” V cuts in before Bug can say anything else, “we’ll be getting out of your hair, have fun you two!~” 

“Thanks again, V, see you two at The Afterlife.” 

Jackie waves them off, Bug packing up and V putting her usual hearing aids in their case, away in her pocket. The runner and young merc leave the store, Dex’s guard already left a while ago, so V will have to either call her car or use the public transit. Come to think of it, she’s not sure how she’s going to kill time until its game time. 

“V,” Bug stops her outside Jinguji before they go their separate ways for now, “gotta ask, you really believe in that spiritual crap?” 

“No, but she does and it makes her happy, so, why not?”

“I guess, if she really thinks a bracelet is going to save us from Arasaka.” 

“Won’t kill you to accessorize a little, Bug.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

They say their goodbyes and V is left thinking again about what she wants to do to pass the time. She could do a few short gigs, but her mind is preoccupied with the heist. Ultimately, V finds herself taking the NCART to El Coyote Cojo. Mostly just because she’s bored and maybe something or someone there will occupy her time.  The bar isn’t too active at the early hour and she doesn’t see Mama Welles around. 

“V!” Pepe greets her when she walks through. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“Same old, same old. Jaquito is still out, Senora Welles is out shopping, but Jake is taking out the trash in the back if you want to say hi.” 

“I think I might go and do just that.” 

Playing grab ass with one of her go to lays seems like a solid way to waste her time. V walks through the bar and out one of the backdoors that open to the alley with the dumpster. Sure enough, Jake is there tossing away a trash bag. He’s around 6’5 about as tall as Jackie, muscular, with a head of ginger hair shaved down on the shades and a thick beard. 

She throws her arms around his waist, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt. He teases his fingers over her forearms, the chrome of his Gorilla Fingers cyberware sending a soft chill through her skin. 

“Hey, V, new chrome?” He runs over the chrome patterns in her arms. 

She hums against his back in response, not wanting to move. But, he twists in her arms. He cups her face in chromed fingers, for a moment, his browns furrow in confusion. 

“No hearing aids?” 

She pulls away, enough space for her to sign. 

“Camouflage ones, it and the blades are necessary for the gig.” 

“Oh yeah, Jackie’s been talking everyone to death about this heist you two got planned. He better be damn glad no one here’s got loose lips.” His hands drop from her face and loosely wrap around her waist, fingers starting to graze over her ass. 

“Can’t blame him for being excited.” 

“Hmmm and you?” 

“Nervous.” 

“Figured as much,” he squeezes her ass, “you looking for a distraction?” 

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be letting you grope my ass in broad daylight, now would I?” 

A low dry chuckle echoes in his chest and he dives in for a kiss. It’s quick and rough, his beard scratching over her skin before he pulls away. She can’t help but giggle as he pulls her back into the bar, hand still shamelessly on her ass. 

“Pepe! I’m going on lunch break!” 

“Yeah yeah, go on.” 

“C’mon,” Jake guides her out of the bar, “lemme at least buy you lunch first.” 

“You actually trying to be nice today?” 

“Something like that.” 

V settles into his passenger side seat as Jake climbs behind the wheel. They pull away from El Coyote Cojo, driving around Heywood and finding a drive in to go through, Burgers, fries, and pop bought; Jake finds a relatively empty place to park meanwhile V has already begun taking the pickles off her burgers. 

“So, you wanna actually talk about it?” Jake asks, taking a bite of his burger. 

“Not much to talk about,” she signs with salt covered fingers and a mouthful of fries, “biggest job of our career. Nerves are natural.” 

Not to mention the shady client, the fact they’re robbing Arasaka, the fact they’re robbing Yorinobu specifically, the fact they have to play corpo, that V will have to force herself not to sign, and that every fiber of her being is screaming that something  is going to go wrong. Then she has the weirdness of her SID chip fucking up on her mind as well. 

“Yeah, but you overthink, so I know that little brain of yours is spinning in a billion directions.” 

V shrugs, “No more than usual, so,  what’s been going on with you?” 

“Not much, been thinking of quitting the bar.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, get to work the day shift so I can pick the twins up from school and spend some time with them. But, day shift in a bar basically means staring at a wall and waiting for Senora Welles to cut me a paycheck.” 

“You don’t like getting paid to sit around and look pretty?” 

“Not gonna lie, it’d be hard to find a boss as forgiving as Senora Welles.” 

“Not every boss would let you take an hour or longer lunch just to play grab ass with me?” 

“Eh, pretty sure if she knew what I was doing with her precious adopted daughter, she’d already have me fired.” 

“Oh please, she’s known you longer than me.” 

“Yeah, but she likes you more, you’re basically her kid and I’m her employee,” he pauses watching V roll her eyes, “you know, she’s been worrying a lot about you and Jackie, lately. She knows things are getting riskier with the merc work and-” 

V quiets him with a kiss, not wanting to hear another word of this. She comes to him for a distraction. The kiss is messy and he tastes like greasy fast food, but she’s sure she’s not any better, pushing her tongue into his mouth. She cups his jaw with one hand, scratching over his beard and as he deepens the kiss, she drops her other hand into his lap. He’s already half hard in his jeans, pressing into her touch as she gropes him through the denim. Jake curses against her lips, breaking their kiss. 

“You talk too much, honey,” she chastises him, a soft smile on her lips as she undoes his belt buckle, he lifts his hips, allowing  space to pull his pants and boxer down just enough to get his cock out. 

She pulls her legs up into her seat, on her knees so she can fully lean over the center console into his lap. V pushes hair back behind her ear and takes his dick into her mouth; not bothering to tease, swallowing around him. The taste of him on her tongue causes a heat in her center to stir, getting slick between her thighs as she bobs her head up and down. He groans as she strokes and sucks him, teasing her tongue ring along the head of his cock. The bitterness of his precum and the salt of his skin making her dizzy with need. 

His chrome fingers slide across the expanse of her back, reaching out to grab her ass. He gropes and fondles her through her pants, the rough feeling of her jeans and panties being pressed against her sensitive wet folds. Jake curses as V alternates between sucking, licking, and taking him as deep into her throat as she can. 

He tugs on her hair, bleached strands wrapped around chrome, pulling her mouth off him. Drool covering his cock and her lips. She pouts at him for stopping her, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.  He gives her a swat on the ass, barely hard enough to sting. 

“Want inside of you.” 

That’s all the explanation he gives and she pulls away, thankful that the windows of his car have steamed from body heat, she begins to quickly strip off her clothes. Its clumsy as she tries to strip down in a car seat, throwing her jacket off into the back, kicking off her boots, before yanking her pants and panties down in one fluid movement. She curses herself for not wearing a skirt or something with easier access. A part of her mind recognizes how stupid she must look, still in her shirt, bra, and her socks staying on after tugging off her pants. But lust has killed her ability to think, just wanting him inside of her. Jake has rolled a condom on, but otherwise has simply watched the flustered merc strip down. 

V’s easily able to jump into his lap, straddling him and having her back to the steering wheel. She steadies herself with one hand on his shoulder, the other lining his cock up with her entrance, sinking herself down onto his dick. She’s slick enough that she takes him all in one movement, both cursing out at the feeling. The stretch of his cock inside of her and the tightness of her cunt around him. Jake digs his nails into her hips and bounces her on his cock, fucking up into her. He takes complete control, setting a brutal pace that leaves V reeling with every thrust. All she can do is wrap her arms around his neck and moan against his sweaty skin, accepting each harsh movement of him inside of her. 

The tension inside of her grows tighter with every thrust, every smack of skin against skin like a strike of a match trying to grow a larger flame. She can’t think, can’t focus, every thought consumed with pleasure and a desire to be pushed over the edge. Bruises form on her hips where he hold her, where he uses her for pleasure. The chair of his cheap car creaks with each bounce and a few thrusts slams her lower back into the steering wheel, but she doesn’t care, couldn’t if she tried. She whines and whimpers against his skin, feeling her end nearing. 

And then the tension snaps, orgasm hitting her fast and hard, she digs her nails into his skin, squirming and writhing as she moans out her pleasure. Mind a haze as she’s overwhelmed with her pleasure. He thrusts a few more times and she nearly chokes at the continued stimulation, the feeling of him fucking into her already sensitive cunt. Then he curses, bringing her hips down fully to meet his own one last time before he cums, spilling his seed inside the condom. 

V rolls off of him and back into the passenger seat, hating the empty feeling  Her skin is sweaty and flushed, as much she hates it, she needs to get her clothes back on. Fumbling to get her pants and panties out of the passenger side floorboard. Pulling them on and shoving her feet in her boots. V waits as Jake ties off the condom and adjusts his jeans, opening the car door and tossing the condom away into a nearby dumpster. 

The Night City air feels cool compared to the heat of the car after fucking, she watches him light up a cigarette outside of the car and grimaces. He climbs back into the driver's seat, keeping the window rolled down and she makes a gagging sound as the smoke hits her nose. 

“You coming back to the bar with me?” He asks, blowing smoke out of the window. 

“No,” she signs, thankful the choker translator can survive sweat, “I’ll catch the train back to Watson.” 

“Let strangers see you sweaty and fuck-dazed?” 

“Well, it’s a good look for me.” 

“Can’t really deny that, now can I.” 

She rolls her eyes and grabs her jacket getting out of the car, walking away on still slightly wobbly legs. V takes the train back to Watson, fiddling with her holophone the entire way. The merc gets off at the stop closest to her megabuilding and makes her way to her apartment; lock recognizing her on the first try. 

V checks the time and decides to get ready to go to The Afterlife. Those nerves she had managed to fuck away for a moment creep up on her all over again. She shakes her head not wanting to focus on her anxieties, she strips down and grabs a shower, cleaning off the sweat from her liaison. 

The merc pulls her hair back in a small low-set ponytail and does her makeup to the recommendations of the stylist. She gets dressed and uses the new camouflaged hearing aids, she takes her mask with her too. Though she knows she can’t wear it into Konpeki, she’ll still be walking into The Afterlife. That thought alone twists her guts into nervous knots. 

The Afterlife is the go to bar for the top of their game, Major Leagues mercs and fixers. It’s where the biggest deals are made, the easiest place to catch a drink and a job, but only mercs or fixers of a certain standard are allowed through its doors. Jackie brags about the place like it’s heaven for mercenaries. If they’re going to become regular fixtures of the bar after this, then she’d prefer to maintain her usual level of anonymity for fixers moving forward. She’ll drop the mask when they’re finally in corpo threads. 

V slides on Misty’s bracelet as well, fiddling with the beads meant to provide some form of protection. Her mind goes back to Misty’s tarot card reading, while she doesn’t put much weight on it, her friend’s fortune telling often sticks with her. The Wheel of Fortune is sticking out to her; she could care less if the cards thinks she’s stupid or if she’s about to fall in love, the latter of which so ridiculous she can’t help but dismiss it. But the idea of conflict sticks out, fear of the heist going wrong has been heavy on her mind. Something always goes slightly wrong, no job is perfect. But this has the highest stakes she’s ever encountered. 

V has new cyberware, the best possible tech and upgrades from Vik. She has Jackie, her best choom and partner in crime who’s never let her down. There’s T-Bug, her friend and brilliant netrunner who could bring half of Night City down if she wished. Their fixer is Dex, one of the best in regards to his job, he has everything to gain by having their backs covered. They have military grade tech and an inside look into Konpeki. They are going in under the best possible circumstances. 

She has to remind herself, review this again and again, that if something goes wrong someone there should be able to take care of it. But, those nerves don’t fade even as she leaves her apartment. 

The Afterlife isn’t far from V’s apartment, practically a hop and skip downtown. Barely five minutes pass before she’s under the roofed alley, nearing the club. Vivid cyan and purple graffiti across the wall, trash along the way.

“Porque ya tengo planes para esta noche!" 

The voice is familiar, Jackie’s and V pressed her back to the side of the vending machine, he’s telling someone he already has plans for tonight. He sounds frustrated, like he’s on the verge of pulling his hair out. 

“Virgen Santsima, ma! Te vas a enterar mañana,” a beat of silence, “también te quiero, ma."

The conversation ways on her, he’s talking to Senora Welles. Remembering Jake talking about her feelings, that the matriarch has been worrying herself half to death. And it sounds like Jackie has been on the receiving end of that worry for a while.  V pulls her mask on and rounds the corner past the vending machine, stepping in front of the main entrance of The Afterlife. Her friend standing in the doorway under the harsh green light. 

“Heh, about time, chica,” he greets, tucking his phone into his pocket, she catches the blue of Misty’s bracelet mingled with his usual gold ones. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Ehhh, y'know. She's worried about me - whatever. Can't help herself, y'know - checkin’ to see if I'm not rottin' in some dumpster… like most of the Welles boys. Been worse lately.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Started climbin' our way up. Got more an' more knives out there, waitin' to stab us in the back. Higher stakes, higher risk. She can see that.” 

“Look like you’re about to keel over.” V reaches out, touching the red blotches on his skin, stress and sweat inflaming his skin. 

“Years of merc work, and yet,  still sweat like a roasted pig when I talk to my ma. It's really startin' to wear on me. More tell her everythin's OK, more I feel like I'm straight-up lyin’.”

“Well, hopefully you had a nice date with Misty at least.” 

“Went about as well as talking to my ma right now,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “for two women who don’t get along, they sure agree when it comes to worrying about me.” 

“They worry because they love you, worse things in life than people giving a damn about you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t matter none. Not anymore, Afterlife, here we come, baby!” 

Jackie changes the topic and she can’t really blame him for it, rubbing his hands together and practically cheering in excitement. This is everything they’ve talked about, everything they’ve said they want. So, why does she still have a lump in her throat? 

“Afterlife… we’re really here.” 

“Does not get any higher, choom. And you know somethin' else? We fuckin' earned it, chica!” 

“No point in standing around then, is there?’ 

“Ready to get your cherry popped?” he laughs leading her into the club, “Yeeeah! Come on!”

“Little late for that one, Jack,” she teases as they make their way down the stairs, a pair of double doors opening up for them. A short step down into a small hallway with mercs and fixers alike talking under the green glow of a sign bearing the club’s name. 

“Place used to be a morgue - you believe that?”

“Really?” 

“I know, right? Way before our time, that. When proper burials were still a thing.”

They come to another set of doors, through the small window V can see the true club main room beyond them. But a man stands guarding them, around Jackie’s height and a similar bulky build. Cyberware indented along his jawline and nose. His face is stony, eyes sharp when Jackie and V stop before him, then he puts a large hand out in front of him. 

“And who might you clowns be?”

“Jackie and V,” the taller of the mercs says with a grin, “Dexter Deshawn is waitin’ on us.” 

The bouncer gives them a look and V is glad for her mask helping hide her emotions. His expression is dismissive, looking down on them, making her feel all at once that she has not earned her place in this club. A baby merc, new to the city, barely six months under her belt and she’s standing at the Afterlife. How the fuck did she get here? 

“Yo, Dex. Got two live ones sayin' they're here to see ya,” his optics glow as he calls Dex, “Yeah? All right, then. Says he needs a second or two. Go get yourselves drinks or somethin'.”

The doors open to a green and cyan lit club. Music louder as the barrier breaks away, people fill the room. Some sipping on alcohol and other’s puffing away on cigarettes; the smell of nicotine and booze wafting from the bar. 

“Way ahead o' you, viejo,” Jackie laughs and leads the way in. 

V follows him around the corner; the large bar coming into full view. It’s lit green, the same neon sign reading Afterlife at the top of it. A bartender in a blue button up slings drinks to the patrons. Floor to ceiling columns, like tubes, are places around the club each filled with water with a dancer twirling around inside with strategically place chrome clothing covering the most private parts of them. Everything is basked in that green neon light, despite being surrounded by mercs like her, she feels so completely out of place. 

Jackie marches proudly across the bar floor, stride confident and unwavering. 

“This is it… The heart o' Night City! That's it right there - beating. Hear it?” he proclaims as they pass by rows of half closed off booths, “Can you imagine? Susan Forrest, Boa Boa, maybe even Morgan Blackhand… All sat on those stools, fell asleep on that same bar.”

Jackie sits in one of the barstools, beaming and brimming with excitement. His eyes wide as he takes it all in, the place he’s dreamed of for all his years. V climbs into the seat next to him, placing an elbow on the bar, leaning her head onto her hand, as she shifts to face him. 

“Doubt that puts us in the same league as them,” V teases, Morgan Blackhand brought down Arasaka Tower. They’re stealing a biochip, hardly the same thing. 

“Oh, but we are. They just don't know it yet,” Jackie tells her with a wink and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“We-” 

V drops her hand when she realizes Jackie’s attention has gone elsewhere, an older woman walking past the two. She’s nothing unusual, older looking than most of the crowd here, sure but nothing immediately stands out to V. An older woman with long gray hair shaved on one side and a bright yellow cropped sweater, She marches her way across the bar and into a blue lit booth, moving past a guard.  

“'Ey. See that old lady there?”

“Yeah, didn’t know grannies were your type,” V taunts him again, he’s always given her shit for her taste in older people, yet he’s ogling some grandma? 

“Fuck off,” he playfully smacks her, but nearly knocks her from her chair, “that’s fuckin’ Rogue, best fixer in all o' Night City.” 

“Thought Dex was the best?” 

“Pff… Rogue was linin' up jobs when Dex was still shittin' in diapers, heh. Place belongs to her.”

“What can I getcha?” The bartender cuts in, hands down on the bar in front of them. She’s a woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a soft round face. 

V doesn’t drink on the job, something she’s always stuck to. But, this is Jackie’s dream and she knows how he likes to celebrate. If nothing else, their banter has failed to undo her nerves, maybe booze will do the trick. 

“You order,” she signs to Jackie and he grins. 

“You drinkin’?” 

“Special night, pick me something nice.” 

“Two Tequila Old Fashioneds with a splash of cerveza and a chili garnish.”

“A duo of Johnny Silverhands, comin' up,” the bartender starts to put the drinks together, “somebody did their homework.” 

“Guessing the dog ate mine,” V signs, confused because what the fuck is a silver hand?

“Age-old tradition. Drinks're named after our regulars,” she explains, putting the drinks down in front of the mercs. 

“What’d I have to do to get a drink named after me?” 

“Snuff it,” she grins, “ In mind-blowingly spectacular fashion, Mid-op'd be best.”

“Aah, what a beaut of a tradition!”

“Steep price for a drink, not going to lie,” V signs, letting her nerves speak for her, if only for a moment. Her guts are in knots, she can only hope the alcohol will untangle. All of the merc’s usual stress relieving tactics other than a weed brownie, have failed to do much of anything.

“Hey, everyone's gotta go sometime, right? Why not in style? Death’s nothing but the final flourish!” 

“To hitting the major leagues,” she signs, holding her shot in the other hand.

“To becoming legends.” 

She pushes her mask just up above her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick and  they throw back their shots. Smooth but strong booze with a kick of spice from the garnish, a burn in her throat. Not her style, but she’s had worse. She pushes her mask back down, regarding the bartender, her nametag says Claire. 

“So, who else can I drink here?” She still has no idea who Silverhand is, but maybe there’s a name she does recognize, reading the posted drink menu. 

“All on the menu…”  

“'Cept there's a spot missing. Morgan Blackhand, right?”

“Heh,  true. Morgan's yet to make up his mind he's dead or still kickin',” Claire tells Jackie and V rolls her eyes. 

“Think he’s still alive? It’s been years,” Jackie asks Claire. 

“No way he’s still alive,.” The radio was just talking about the devastation of the tower going down, if that many folks were killed who were just near it, then there’s no way someone who was in the tower survived. 

“Why not? Look at Rogue. Peeps from that era - a species unto themselves.”

“And one day we’re gonna be there too,” Jackie probably proclaims, “speaking of which, name’s Jackie Welles if you want to write down my recipe.” 

“Sure.” There’s a playfulness in her tone, just going along with Jackie’s whims. 

“Shot of vodka on the rocks, lime juice, ginger beer… oh, and most importantly - a splash of love.”

“Haha, I'll remember that.”

“Gag,” V signs just to see the glare Jackie levels her way, the playful smack of her arm. 

“Okay, what’s your drink then?” 

“Literally, the only thing I drink is like cherry cola with a splash of bourbon.” 

“You know those are usually supposed to be reversed, the bourbon and coke.” 

“Maybe so, but, and hear me out… cherry cola tastes better.”  

“Heard you were Dex’s latest finds,” Claire tells them. 

“Just biz, no big deal.”

“How'd you know?” V raises an eyebrow behind her mask. 

“My job to know. Look around - how do you think meres earn their reps? Through gossip rivaling that of schoolgirls, that's how.”

“Mr. DeShawn see you now,” a booming voice rings out behind the mercs, turning around she sees Dex’s bodyguard. The first time she’s heard his voice. 

“Love to hang, imbibe the vibe, but we got an important meeting,” Jackie tells Claire, getting up from his seat and V following suit, throwing some cash down on the bar. 

“Break a leg.” 

“This way,” the bodyguard tells them and the mercs falls in line behind him. He leads them around the bar, past the crowd and through a door towards the back of the club. The lighting shifting, more blue than green as they walk past another vending machine. 

“Damn, holmes, you're huge... Work out?” Jackie asks, unable to stand the silence. 

“Hmm.” A vague grunt as they pass through another door, the music fading as they get further from the main bar. But V can just hear the starting beat of some old dad rock, something about losing another day to pointless drudgery. 

“Same here, y'know, in the ring. You do some kinda exotic shit? Kempo? Ninjitsu?”

Nothing as they turn another corner. 

“Think you could take me, drop me?”

“Jackie…” Why must he sound like he’s picking a fight with the guy?

“In here,” the guard says, stopping and standing in front of another door. 

"Este pinche tipo..."

The door opens and they’re greeted to the first room with warm lighting, though it just seems to be a storage corner. With a cabinet and vending machine. But to the left are barely see through walls of a booth that takes up half the room, through them V can just see T-Bug’s outline and leather couches. 

They walk around, the front of the booth opened. A wrap around black leather couch goes around the back wall and left side of the booth. Dex sat on the back portion, talking into a holo about Excelsior and cold hard eddies. T-Bug sat to side, a table in the center of the room with the Flathead, Jinguji boxes, and shards placed on neat little index cards. There’s a small disconnect leather seat in the right corner, next to the door. 

“Gotta bounce,” Dex hangs up, “well, if it ain’t Miss V.” 

“Whole family in one place! Hah! Finally!”

“That’s one way to put it,” T-Bug teases and a shine of blue catches V’s eye, the netrunner wearing Misty’s bracelet. She can’t help but smile. 

“A’ight, then… Set your butts down comfy,” Dex tells them. Jackie plops himself onto the larger couch next to T-Bug, comfortably spreading his arms over the back of it while V takes the smaller seat, putting her at an angle to see everyone.  She stifles a laugh, seeing Jackie’s leg excitedly bounce up and down. 

“Sweet booth, is it soundproof?” 

“Jackie…” T-Bug scolds and V stifles a laugh. 

“Now, now, Mr. Welles is right. We gon' be goin' over some sensitive material. But if it's all right with y'all, I'd like to start with a question for Miss V… Evelyn Parker - how'd you fare?”

All eyes on her, stomach still twisted in a vise, this is her chance. She’s got to tell him, but she doesn’t want Evelyn hurt. Some fixers will go to any length to get revenge on a client or merc who does them dirty. But, he’s got a right to know the shit she pulled. 

“Intel was good, brain dance was exactly what we needed….” 

“So, she just wanna see wha'ss good, or was there somethin' else?”

“Honestly?” 

“Wouldn’t ask for anything else, Miss V.” 

“She’s high risk as far as clients go. Shady as fuck, naïve as all hell, and genuinely thought she could make me another offer.” 

“Another offer?” Dex’s brow raises about his sunglasses. 

“Wanted me to cut you out for more cash, told her no, of course. But, wouldn’t do business with her again, if I were you.” 

“Cut me out… shiiiit, now that’s rich,” Dex laughs, Jackie nervously laughing along, “Clients... never learn, do they?” 

“You’re not pissed?” 

“Lived in NC too long to blow my top every time some amateur thinks they can take me for a ride. Parker ain't the first and sure as hell won't be the last.”

“Fair enough,” V lets out a sigh, thankful if nothing else that Dex doesn’t seem prone to getting too mad at Evelyn. Maybe she’s being too kind, but she can’t help but think Evelyn is more naive than malicious when it comes to the offer. A stranger to the merc world. 

“I do appreciate you sharin' this info, though, Miss V. You see, trust… …is essential in any partnership that's to be long-lasting and fruitful.”

“Figured you had a right to know, so, what’s the plan?” 

“This.”

Dex gestures towards the shards on the table, V takes the one in front of her and slides it into her shard slot.  UI and graphics lighting up her mask, a map pulling up on the tech. 

“Me and Dex've already covered the fine detes. Ops wise, should be a stroll on the beach.”

“Elaborate, I wanna hear it.” 

“A Delamain'll drop your asses at the front door of Konpeki Plaza,” a picture of the hotel shows,  then two names, “You'll stroll right in thanks to your false identities. Then, with Bug's help, you'll breach the hotel's subnet…”

“Mine and the Flathead's help.” Images of the hotel’s interior and the bot flash by. 

“Last but not least, you slip into Yorinobu's penthouse and klep the Relic,” his words bring up images of the heir and his suite.

“Goes without sayin' we do this on the hush - ideally no bodies, not a one.” The shard shows them The Relic and then blips out. 

“You'll have T-Bug on comms for the duration. Time for your burnin' questions.”

“What’s our cover?” V asks, they’ve been told a thousand times they’ll be acting like corpos, but that’d be hard to do if they have no idea what their story is suppose to be. 

“Hello, Ramón Victorino,” T-Bug looks at Jackie and then to V, “and you’re Hannah Conwell.” 

“Ramón - yeah, OK. What do we say we're there for?”

“Biz as usual. Corpo arms deal. Case anyone asks, you there for a bogus meetin' with Arasaka's defense rep - Hajime Taki. Anything else?”

“How do we get in the penthouse?”

“Yorinobu's got barely any muscle. Hardest part'll be penthouse security. If we wanna disable, we'll need to neutralize Konpeki's dweller - elite ‘runner monitoring the hotel's subnet twenty-four seven. Only catch is there's no way to get in the dweller's den from the outside.”

“Hold on, how you want us to get inside a room you can't get into?”

“Trust me when I say whatever hitch you think up. T-Bug's solved it already”

“This is where the Flathead comes in. You'll have to get him in the ventilation shafts, guide him to the dweller and force the dweller to… take a break. Flathead'll stay there, jacked into the dweller, but thanks to that I’ll be able to roll out your red carpet into the penthouse.”

“Anything else?”

“Transports a Delamain?” She has no idea if the company has an ASL sign like most other corporations and doesn’t have time to think of one on the fly. 

“Preemest cab company in all Night City… Nada mal,” hackie tells her. 

“DeShawn don't ever work with anyone but the best. I consider Delamain just that.”

“Yeah, who needs creepy, nosy cab drivers when you've got a clean AI to get you from point A to point B in style?”

“And how he bags a permit to operate every year's still a mystery.”

“If everythin' goes as planned, Delamain'll drop you back here. If things get sticky, he'll head for the safe house.”

“Which is?”

“The No-Tell Motel. Quiet, no questions asked. Make our next move from there. But I'm flat certain that won't be necessary. Though, there is one more consideration for if it does.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Hate to put you on the spot, Miss V,” Dex explains, “but if shit goes sour, I’m gonna need to know who I’m letting into the hotel. Mask can’t go with to Konpeki, so I’d sure feel a hell of a lot better if I knew what was hiding behind that thing.” 

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.”  

Even if she’d have Jackie with her when shit goes down,  Dex is trusting her with this heist. The least she can do is trust him to see her face and not write her off or sell her out to The Herd if the chance arised. Not that she can see that happening anyway… 

“Don’t even know why you wore the thing in, V,” Jackie teases. 

“Well, there are other fixers here, didn’t want to give away my face…” 

V carefully pulls off her mask, feeling exposed all over again, a new set of eyes on her face. The merc knows how she looks; five feet with a head of bleach blonde hair and big gray eyes. Not the picture one conjures in their mind when they think of a capable, strong, badass merc. Sprinkle in her disability and the reactions to her deafness; most people think she’s not a threat, weak. 

“That what you’ve been hiding behind that mask? All that fuss, for what?” Dex laughs. 

“Hard to take,” she stumbles over her English trying to sign at the same time, “be taken- seriously sometimes when you’re five foot nothing, deaf, and look like…” 

“Gutterpunk Barbie,” Jackie cuts in to tease, earning him a sharp kick to the shin. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Trust me, Miss V, you pull off this job; ain’t nobody in their right mind gonna underestimate you” 

“That’s the hope...”

“Any other questions?” 

“I got a question. When do we get to the real reason we're all here?” Jackie asks, shooting a wink V’s way. 

“Now's a good a time as any. Fresh talent gets thirty percent always, but I'm willin' to make an exception in your case. I'ma cut you a nice, juicy forty as a bonus for your honesty, V.”

“Much appreciated.” 

“Ka-ching baby!~” 

“Last thing, Konpeki's got a strict no-iron policy. Security gates, the works. So you dawgs'll leave your lead-spitters in the ride, take the Flathead inside in its case.”

“Got your suits from Jinguji on the table.” 

“¡Chido!”

“Thanks, Bug.” 

“So, not to count chickens, but when'll we see our eddies?”

“All depends how Ms. Parker unrolls herself or her role, but a week, two tops is my guess.”

“And what do we do in the mean time?” 

“You sit tight, heads down, 'cause ol' uncle Arasaka be watching. Now, as that ol’ Greek dawg says, life's a banquet - so don't go thirsty, but don't get drunk, either,” he tells them as he leaves the booth, “Your chariot awaits outside.”

“My cue to delta, too. Gotta prep to jack in, be there when you come on comms. Any other issues, now's your chance,” T-Bug tells them, shifting her feet and something catches V’s eye. Delta V emblazoned on the netrunner’s boots, was that there before?

“Plan - your take?” V shakes the thought from her head, must be a brand or a runner thing V doesn’t know.

“Enough, I hope, to put me in a luxury Creton Villa from which I'll never set foot in cyberspace again.”

“Send me a postcard?” 

“No offense, but I'm gonna burn any and all bridges - need a clean break.”

“Gonna take Misty’s bracelet with you?” Jackie teases, grinning because he caught it too. 

“Shut up,” she tells him, rolling her eyes. 

“Uh, just realized something, what’s gonna happen to our clothes? I don’t want to lose my mask…” 

“No worries, put them in the boxes, we’ll have ‘em sent back to your places.” 

“Alright then, lets get this show on the road.” 

“Let's get to work, go ahead and get changed, Delamain is parked out front, uh, okay-”Bug starts to trip over her words when the two mercs start taking off their jackets, “you can use the bathrooms.” 

“Eh,”

Jackie and V shrug their shoulders, the outfits are right there. Not much point in dragging them out to the bathroom. The pair shared a bedroom for the better half of six months, a room with one bed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty, boundaries destroyed a long while back. 

“Why do I bother,” T-Bug rolls her eyes and leaves the booth, letting the pair change. 

V kicks off her boots and takes off her socks, Jackie tugging off his jewelry first. 

“So, you’re nerves still going crazy?” Jackie asks her as she tugs off her shirt, his own tossed off. 

“What do you mean?”  She tugs off her pants, both mercs soon standing around in their underwear. 

“Can’t hide that shit from me, chica, been giving me twice as much hell as usual. You’re freaking out.” 

“High stakes, Jack, of course I’m a nervous mess. Means I give a shit.” 

She pulls the slack on and tugs on the white blouse, buttoning it up. The two of them putting on the corpo clothes, similar in look. Black slacks, white button up tops, black suit jackets, and Misty’s beaded bracelets for protection. Each perfectly tailored for their body types. 

“Don’t sweat it so much, V, we got this.” He sticks his fist out. 

“Sure fuckin’ hope so.” She bumps her fist to his. 

Their street clothes are packed away in the boxes, V puts in her optic contacts and slide on her heels, then they start to make their way out of the booth. But, Jackie stops her with a hand on her shoulder and he taps his throat. She catches on taking off her choker translator, neck feeling bare and odd without the tech. With that they leave out through the club, Jackie carrying the Flathead case and the smaller merc keeps her head down as best she can. Her stomach still in knots as they spot the Delamain in the parking lot. 

Her life is about to change forever; hopefully for the best. She’s on the cusp of having everything she’s wanted since she’s come to the city. The verge of earning the respect of everyone in this city and finally feeling like she’s someone, like she’s done something. 

So, why does she feel like she’s about to puke?

[dragonswithjetpacks]

I’m going to say this one time about Cullen and that’s it. And my opinion will be out there and done. This is not a negative post. But this is a long post so buckle up babes.

*warning for use of language because I swear like a sailor*

*also brief mention of rape*

Anyway, Cullen is a perfect example of poor planning in the gaming industry.

He is also a perfect example of fans thirsting so hard and wanting something so bad that the writers and developers change a character and even game elements to suite their needs. They didn’t even give him a book or a comic for redemption. You know what they did instead? They switched writers. Cullen has three writers. All of them with a different character in mind.

Cullen was a fucked up mess in Origins. He was meant to be creepy and sociopathic. I get that. The writer who basically created him had no idea he was even going to be not only a reoccurring character, but one that was going to be romance able in future games. She even apologized. Which wasn’t necessary. And so many people who played the game missed a big point about Cullen. He was never supposed to recover from Origins.

“The young templar Cullen never quite recovered from his ordeal. After months of attempting to convince his superiors that the tower was still a danger, he finally snapped and killed three apprentices before being stopped by his fellow templars. Eventually, Cullen escaped from prison, a madman and a threat to any mage he encountered.”

“Once the tower was rebuilt, Knight-Commander Greagoir stepped down from his post and retired to a life of private contemplation as a brother in the Chantry. His health failed over time, and after refusing treatment, he perished in his sleep. Knight-Commander Cullen was said to be more strict and less trusting of the mages even than Greagoir was. He ruled the Circle with fear.”

I’m sorry. But yeah. That’s the epilogue on two different choices involving the Circle’s fate in Origins. And it was ignored. I agree with that, too. But it wasn’t just Cullen that was ignored. It was the entire Circle at Kinloch Hold. If the mage warden sacrifices their own life, the Circle is supposedly free. Which... is not mentioned... ever again. And not to mention is impossible? Like okay thanks Anora or whoever but I don’t think you can just do that.

Poor writing.

I’d also like to mention for the record I did not like Cullen in Origins. I still don’t.

Now, I don’t know why exactly Cullen was brought back in DA2? I know his writer got bullied out of Bioware. I do not have an opinion on that. I mean the woman co-wrote my favorite part of Origins (Anvil of the Void). She also wrote Anders. Which I don’t think is a coincidence. People, men and women, often have this idea of fixing a broken person. It’s heavily romanticized. It’s called codependency. And you see it a lot in romance novels. But that’s another topic. It seems this writer implemented that in the game (along with some of her own personal things she had) without fully knowing Cullen would even be a romantic interest in Inquisition, but also still wanting to give him some sort reason to be desired. And all the while knowing Anders was fully romanceable. Even... a little forcefully... romanceable... if I may add... (I am uncomfortable) I also dislike some of Anders’ writing but that’s another post and I don’t want to compare the two. But Anders was the opposite side of Cullen that was done better because they had time to write it.

Regardless, Cullen seemed to hold some resemblance to his former character. But we do see a lot hesitance with him. He’s basically that “good” cop that doesn’t do anything when the bad cop is beating the shit out of everyone. Still not good, hence the quotes. Not a good guy. He has his meh he’s alright moments. And seems to generally disregard Hawke in every single way. But he’s still an ass hole for letting things happen the way that they did when he could very much so have put a stop to it. Maybe it was the writers’ intention to make it that way to show he was still suffering from trauma in Origins.

Again. Poor writing. BECAUSE WE DON’T KNOW. DIDN’T HE KILL THREE PEOPLE, BIOWARE? ISN’T HE SUPPOSED TO BE KNIGHT COMMANDER IN FERELDEN, B I O W A R E??? WHAT. HAPPENED. BIOWARE.

So here’s the next thing. They decided to slip him into Inquisition for whatever reason. His writing was fair enough in DA2. Could have been better. But these people are still thirsty. They want some Curly. At the last minute, they throw romance on him. Not a bad idea. But are we supposed to forget the man was basically raped by desire demons? Is he even ok to have a relationship? OH WAIT THAT’S RIGHT. We didn’t closure on that because they ignored it.

Anyway, Cullen in Inquisition seems to be different. But because they couldn’t just, oh I don’t know, write a different character with the same traits but better, they had to somehow put the events of the previous games and how it affected him into this new current game where he supposed to be... better? Ish? Which is where we get the stereo type soldier with PTSD and a substance abuse problem. Now, if you’re any good with imagining and writing fanfic, then you probably know or already have figured out a way to connect everything better than Bioware could. But hey. Last minute romance written in on a character who was already all over the charts? Count me in. I like a good writing challenge. Poor girl who took the job of writing Inquisition Cullen likes a challenge too, apparently. Because it was her first big project. And she didn’t do a bad job. But imagine working hard on trying to write a character half the fandom hates into someone somewhat likeable just for everyone to shit all over it.

The way I look at it.... we have three different characters. And he is not really a good example to look at analyze wise. He is inconsistent. And was molded for Inquisition for thirsty fan girls. And some boys (I see you). A good example for study would be Morrigan. Or even Alistair. And Alistair is in several of the comics and still remains pretty consistent. Leliana is a prime example of character development over a course of three games. And I highly recommend you fall in love with her good and bad side because she is written beautifully. Don’t @ me.

Cullen, and I mean Inquisition Cullen, has a lot to like. And a lot to dislike. Every character is flawed. I think a lot of hate that gets tagged onto Cullen is really from poor writing. They really got lazy with him. And it is a shame. I feel like he could have been redeemed way better. He could have had one hell of a redemption. Or possibly just skipped over all together. I see a lot of posts about putting Samson in his place and I often agree. It was never quite the character that made him appealing to me. It was the personality. And they could have easily done with anyone. They could have made Samson sexy, too. It didn’t have to be sexy Cullen. And let’s face it. With Cullen’s writing in Origins and even some of the writing in DA2, Cullen siding with Coryphedouche is way more fitting than Samson.

Basically, it is up to us to fill in the gaps. So I love seeing fanfic with Cullen backstory. Because it gives better insight than what the writers could accomplish. And I applaud you if you’ve done that. BUT the over sexualization of this character is a bit... wrong. It feels wrong. And that’s all I’ll say to that. Personally, I’ve been working on some Cullen romance fic for awhile and it’s been challenging trying to find a way to make him less douchey. One minute, he’s yelling at you about mages. And the next, he’s got this soft tone and nervous look. Like, yeah... you can tell it’s rushed. And awful. And even the dialogue is just... painful. It doesn’t fit. (you can check my Cullen tag in blog to see how I feel about that). I will say that even speaking to him on a personal note, asking him questions about life as a templar, he even says he does not agree with the Order. And he wants to change his thinking. But he still gets angry when you go to side with the mages. It feels like they wanted redeem him but they also needed someone to side with the templars to provide conflict at the war table.

So in my opinion, calling him controlling and abusive is a bit of a stretch. He was clearly used by the writers. It just seems ridiculous to put so much effort in bashing the character when clearly... he was not planned out... or put together... I just... I don’t get...

I know what you’re thinking at this point: Kay.... why do you like him then?

Beacause. I am weak for a man who gets nervous around girls he likes. His awkward mannerisms despite being a man of power makes me weak. The need to protect also makes me weak. But also the ability to admit vulnerability makes me suuuuuper weak. So like I said. There was a lot there. It just was not delivered correctly. You know what I would have done? If I had to put him in the Commander shoes, I would have made the whole Kirkwall thing a life changer for him. Maybe even give him a soul searching type situation before joining the Inquisition. And definitely tell him to keep his mouth shut about siding with the templars.

Long story short: Ya’ll thirsted over a weird dude in Origins and Bioware went hmmmm okay. But by the time they gave him to you on a silver plate, it was last minute. Like you just found out your crush Jared is going to Becky’s party but you’re already at Jessica’s house and have like nothing to wear so you have to just wing it. And your shoes look tacky, but Jessica’s shoes don’t fit. So you either have to wear shoes that don’t fit or just look like omg total garbage. And Bioware went with the shoes that don’t fit. And Jared totally likes them.

I’m also going to say the most controversial thing on this entire post by just... saying... by calling Cullen out as trash without realizing the writing, the directive, the lack of development, the rush on this character, and the complete absolute bullying this community does to it’s FANS AND WRITERS kind of feels like you didn’t really put any effort into understanding why and just jumped on a band wagon. And the fact that some of you make other people feel bad for liking this character is awful. Some of the most toxic shit I’ve seen. Like maybe they like this character from Inquisition because, I don’t know, maaaaaaybe he was written out almost like a new character with a last minute fantasy romance.. because he kind of was...

Now for my opinion on Greg Ellis.

FUCK THAT GUY.

And that’s it. Thanks for stopping by. If you agree cool, if not cool. I’m not here to argue with anyone or say your opinion is invalid. We all have reasons why we hate or love the color blue. So we can all disagree or agree and live in peace and still love a game.

You can always message me, too, guys. I have a lot of opinions. And reasons for my opinions. And theories. And just things in general. But I will not hate characters written in Dragon Age. Someone wrote them. Someone is out there working their ass off to deliver a character. And I refuse to hate someone fictional.

[viostormcaller]

Stringbound Chapter 3

A/N: I really really hope this works... sorry if it’s formatted a bit weird! EDIT: ohmygod I forgot the fucking taglist I am so sorry XD EDIT 2: I forgot amidst my frustration of trying to post this here that I was supposed to edit in all the italics. So I did that. Whoops!

[TW: nausea/vomiting mention, blood, death mention]

Chapter 2

The first thing Marvin noticed behind the darkness of his eyelids was the headache, its ever-persistent pounding and squeezing against his skull as agonizing as it had been since the fight, if not more so. Next was the stomachache, not enough yet to be nauseating, mostly just sore for the time being. Third was the heat; he could tell blankets had been piled on him again -- the same ones from before, no doubt -- and despite how much he was sweating, he also found himself shivering. It was harder to breathe, as well, though it wasn't because of the blankets. However, he didn't feel the need to worry -- he could feel a mask against his mouth and nose and felt significantly cooler air entering his body when he inhaled. Henrik must have put him on an oxygen machine. He also felt that one of his arms was outside of the blankets, and while he couldn't feel it he could tell by the way his arm was positioned that there was an IV there. He could tell he was on the couch instead of in a hospital bed, and he could hear soft murmuring close by. After he felt like he'd done enough assessing of the situation, Marvin slowly opened his eyes, squinting and letting out a quiet, pained groan as the bright daylight entering the room agitated his headache further.

At the noise he heard, Henrik quickly turned around from the crouched position by the couch that he had placed himself in, eyes wide and curious. "Marvin?" he prompted. "Are you awake?"

"Y-yeah…" Marvin got out. "Yes, I'm awake…"

"How do you feel?"

"Awful," Marvin stated plainly. It had been years since he'd felt this sick.

"What symptoms are you having?" Henrik then asked, grabbing the notepad and pen from off the table.

"Headache, chills… I feel warm and cold at the same time. And it's still a bit hard to breathe."

"Any lightheadedness?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Thankfully, no."

"Are you having any pains in the chest at all?"

"No. Aside from it feeling a bit tight, of course, but it doesn't hurt."

"Do you feel nauseous?"

"No, not… not yet, anyway. I'm unsure if I'll be feeling sick later, though…"

"Hm, alright… I will keep the eye on it, and the bucket will be close by, just in case." Henrik proceeded to write all of Marvin's answers down on a piece of paper. He would transfer them to a proper document later, but this will do for now. Actually, while they were on the subject…

"Oh, Marvin?" Henrik spoke up, not looking up from his paper quite yet.

"Mmh?"

"I have some more questions for you, about your reaction to the medicine, yes? Would you mind if I asked them now, or do you want to answer them later, when you are feeling a bit better?"

"We can…" Marvin took a moment to think. It didn't take long to come to a decision. "We can answer them now, but… can you dim the light in the room a bit? It's… making my head ache horribly…"

"Oh! Oh, of course! I apologize, I did not even consider that! Jackie, do you think--?"

"Yup, one step ahead of you," cheerfully replied Jackie, who had been standing by this whole time. He pulled all the curtains closed and dimmed the kitchen light some. "How's this? This good?" he called to Marvin.

Marvin fully opened his eyes, finally able to see without painfully squinting. His headache hadn't gone away, but this was definitely an improvement. "Much better," he sighed. "Thank you."

"No problem, just doin' my job."

Henrik just chuckled, shaking his head as a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Then he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, refocusing himself. "Right, yes. The symptoms. What did you notice after you had taken that medicine?"

Marvin hummed, thinking for a moment. "I remember feeling… nauseous first. The ironic part about that is, after you injected me, it actually helped to ease the nausea. However, when I was talking with Chase, it… came back. The headache followed."

Henrik nodded, writing this down. "Alright, what else?"

"While I was, er… being sick, I remember looking up and the room was spinning. Everything was blurry -- I couldn't tell you if I was seeing triple or more than that. And then I found it harder and harder to breathe in, and from there I began to experience what I can only describe as delirium…"

"Ah, yes," Henrik interjected, looking up. "I remember you mumbling nonsense at me. Do you remember what it was you were saying? Or, well… trying to say?"

Marvin just shook his head. "My guess would be just as good as yours. I haven't a single idea. Heh, I am at the very least grateful I wasn't mumbling any spells. That could have made things a bit… chaotic."

Henrik hummed in agreement, nodding, before continuing. "The only thing I did understand was when you said you felt as if you were going to pass out."

"Ah. Yes, I remember saying that," Marvin confirmed. "I felt very lightheaded seemingly out of nowhere and I was almost positive that I would pass out. Though in my half-conscious state, I couldn't tell if my warning was in my mind or if I'd spoken it aloud. I'm grateful it was the latter."

"Was that all you felt?" Henrik inquired, looking up from his notes once more.

"No, there is one more thing I remember… every vein in my body seemed to ache not long after those first symptoms appeared. At the time I'd no clue what was happening to me, but looking back it could have only been a side effect of the medicine."

Henrik nodded, continuing his furious scribbling on the paper. Finally he let out a breath and put the pen and notepad down on the coffee table. "I thank you for your help, Marvin. One, for being so cooperative, and two, for being my unintentional test subject. I am glad we did not give this to any patients… I am not sure a higher dose of this would be very safe."

"So… does that mean our original plan is a no-go?" Jackie spoke up, a concerned look in his eye.

"I am afraid so," Henrik replied sadly, turning back towards the hero. "The dose I gave Marvin was small, and you can see what it had done to him. In a higher quantity, it could potentially kill someone, and we are trying to avoid that, yes?"

Jackie muttered a curse under his breath, looking away.

"What are you going to do now?" Marvin asked, glancing between them both.

"When Chase returns, we are going to talk more deeply about this. We need a new plan."

Marvin's eyebrows furrowed. "Chase is out? Where did he go?"

"Oh, just to pick up some supplies. Non-perishable food items, medicine… that sort of thing. Is good to be stocked up, yes? Especially now that we have a new person on board."

Marvin slowly nodded in understanding. Yes, that was a smart move. He then looked up, seeing Jackie nearing closer with a grin on his face. Uh oh.

"Hope you didn't lose one of your "nine lives" while you were fighting the effects of the medicine, because we're gonna need you for this. You think you're up for it?"

Marvin just narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you always this utterly idiotic?"

"Hey, be nice!" Jackie protested, placing a hand on his chest and feigning hurt. "I'm the one who saved your life, remember? You'd probably be dead right now if it weren't for me! You better be grateful I stayed home, too, Sourpuss. Had I gone on patrols, there'd be no one to carry Schneep's medical equipment up to you. So there!"

Marvin rolled his eyes and looked away. He'd cross his arms, but one of them had the IV sticking out of it, so that wouldn't be the best idea. Henrik could only laugh to himself, shaking his head. It was easy to forget how much of a child Jackie still was, until they had moments like this.

"Do you need anything, Marvin?" Henrik asked, pulling himself from his thoughts.

"A… a cloth over my head would be appreciated," Marvin admitted.

"I'll get it!" Jackie announced.

"No, I will get it," Henrik quickly interjected, rising from his spot on the floor. "You have bothered Marvin enough for one day, I feel."

As Henrik turned to stretch, Jackie stuck his tongue out at him when he wasn't looking.

Just then, the door swung open, startling everyone in the room. It was no other than Chase, of course, carrying a few bags of groceries, but… he was covered in splatters of… blood?

"Before you ask, no, the blood isn't mine," Chase spoke up, gently kicking the door shut behind him and setting the plastic grocery bags down on the floor.

"Holy shit, what happened?!" Jackie exclaimed.

"Dude, it's like a war zone out there!" Chase said. "Have you seen the news? God, there's fuckin' people everywhere! All scramblin' around tryin' to stock up. He's got his puppets on the loose. I was fuckin' lucky to get outta there alive…"

Jackie let out a curse, quickly snatching up the remote sitting on the coffee table and turning on the TV, switching it to the news channel. The four of them watched as the woman on the TV explained the scene unfolding downtown, showing an aerial view of what was going on. There weren't that many puppets, but just enough to cause havoc.

"I gotta go," Jackie got out, tossing the remote down and already heading for the door. He was grateful that he was already suited up.

"Jackie, wait," Chase called, reaching a hand out to him.

Jackie paused in his tracks, turning to face Chase with a hum. The determination and urgency in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Are you… sure it's safe to go out there? Like… alone, I mean?"

Jackie just huffed, almost like he'd laughed. "I mean, it's not, but who else is gonna do it, if not me? Marvin's out of commission, and you know as well as I do that the police do fuck-all."

Chase just looked away with a thoughtful hum. Jackie had a point, he couldn't deny that.

"I gotta go. See you in a few hours, alright?"

"Stay safe, Jackie," Henrik said.

"Yeah, man… be careful out there. Shit's a mess." Chase agreed.

Jackie huffed, a smile growing on his face. "No need to worry, guys. I'll be fine, trust me." And with that, he was out the door.

Henrik turned the news off with a sigh, recalling his ever-present fear of watching the news on a late night only to hear that the city's famed vigilante, Jackieboy Man, was dead. Every time he left the house, he mentally prepared himself for that day, and every time he hoped it never came.

"Well…" Chase spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence. "I'm gonna go shower. Gotta get this blood off me."

"Yes, good… good idea," Henrik nodded, clearly preoccupied.

"Um, Chase, if you don't mind my asking, how did you get blood on you in the first place?" Marvin asked.

Chase looked to Marvin with saddened eyes. "Had to witness a puppet killing someone… was too close when it happened. I'm never gonna forget that… the look on their face… the way they screamed…" Chase could only sigh, hugging himself. He shook his head, turning towards the stairs. "I… I need to be alone for a while…" With that, he left to go grab some clean clothes and a towel from his room so he could get cleaned up.

There was a heavy silence lingering in the room after Chase left, thick as the blankets covering Marvin and twice as suffocating. Finally, letting out a breath as if to push away some of the fog-like tension to give himself a little breathing room, Henrik turned away from the TV and headed towards the closet under the stairs. "Marvin, you said you wanted a cloth for the head, yes?"

Marvin perked up at his name, looking towards Henrik. "Er, y-yes, uh… yes, that would… help…"

Henrik nodded, fetching a small washcloth and heading towards the kitchen sink. He turned on the faucet and let the water run over his hand, adjusting the temperature between hot and cold until he was sure that it was cool and not cold. He then grabbed a spare bowl, filled it with the water, and headed back over to the couch. He took great care in dipping the folded washcloth in the water, wringing it out, and placing it over Marvin's forehead, though Marvin expected nothing less from a doctor.

"How does that feel? Good?"

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate it," Marvin answered with a nod.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No, not at all. Thank you, though." His answer was honest, but even if he did need something, he wouldn't dare ask. Not right now.

With a simple nod, Henrik rose, heading for the basement. He wasn't gone for very long, but when he came back up, Marvin noticed that he was now wearing gloves. He watched with intrigue as Henrik went about setting down some paper towels on the kitchen floor. Then, Henrik began to set the grocery bags on the paper towels, carrying as many over as he could at one time until all the bags were moved. It was only then that Marvin was able to see the blood splattered on some of the plastic bags. He'd been previously confused, but now what Henrik was doing made sense. He continued to silently watch as Henrik took off the gloves and set them aside, grabbed a new pair from his pocket, and put them on. He began to sort the groceries, putting away the food items and setting aside the medicines and Band-Aids and the like to be stored downstairs with the first-aid supplies.

Once the food was put away and the medicine separated, Henrik grabbed as many medicines as he could in his arms and headed for the basement stairs. It took him two trips to get everything down, though when he came back up he brought with him a biohazard bin. All the plastic bags, paper towels, and the first pair of gloves were tossed in. He then grabbed some more paper towels and a bottle of some sort of cleanser Marvin didn't recognize right away and began to spray and wipe down the area by the door where Chase had dropped the bags. Once everything was clean and put away, he headed back downstairs with the bin, and when he came up he was empty-handed and no longer wearing his gloves. He settled himself into the armchair with a sigh, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. Not a word was spoken between him and Marvin. Eventually the pair heard Chase come out of the bathroom, the opening and closing of one door, and then the opening and closing of another. Chase didn't come back downstairs after that. Eventually Henrik, too, excused himself, mentioning he was going back downstairs to check on Jack for a bit, leaving Marvin alone in the living room.

That thick duvet of silence never truly left, but as the number of people within the room dwindled, it grew ever heavier, threatening to swallow everything that remained there, Marvin included. With a heavy, tired sigh, however, he decided he wouldn't let it, instead allowing his mind to wander, to silently fill the space with his own muted noise. And he simply waited, waited for Henrik to return, for Chase to come back downstairs. For Jackie to come home.

Taglist:  @jade-orade @taizu-lazure @bupine @innocent-angel3 @immabethehero @wowowgoodurl @n-anon @g-rexthedino @scarletender @coconutpillow05 @friezzzboiii (Ask if you would like to be tagged!!)

[lemonerix]

You Dropped This

Day 4: Free day/Nautical AU Word count: 3465

His eyes mirrored the blue waves of the ocean, he kicked the wet sand beneath his foot. He watched as his footprints dissolved as the tide came and went. The rhythm of the waves as they crashed onto shore filled his eardrums, the cold wind stinging his face and the scent of salt was the only thing he could smell; he always found the sea to be calming. Whenever he felt upset, he would always find himself walking his problems away on the beach, letting the waves erase it just as it would with his footprints on the shore.

Alfred sighed as a relieved grin stretched on his face. He could feel his worries get washed away by the sea, at least, for the meantime. He knew that he can’t run away from the real world forever, so he enjoyed the little time he had away from it. He watched seagulls and pelicans fly above him, he watched a small crab as it made its way into the water, his eyes raked around his surroundings before they fell on an odd sight.

A man sat on the sand just a few yards away from him. He was half-dressed, with only his trunks on. “A swimmer who likes cold waters, probably?” Alfred thought as he slowly approached the man. The man did not notice his presence at first, only when Alfred was a few feet away from him did he realize that he was not alone. The man was alarmed when he realized that a person was approaching him, his hand flew to the furry cloak beside him. He was about to run into the water when he recognized who the man approaching him was. He immediately felt relieved, it was just Alfred. Then panic filled him, it was Alfred!  

“Um, hey bro, you okay?” Alfred asked the stranger on the beach. His lips quivered before answering the American, “I’m…I’m good.” He cleared his throat, “I’m alright.” 

Arthur hoped that he didn’t sound so stupid in front of him. It’s not like Alfred knew him or anything, so why should he feel so self-conscious around him? Oh yeah, because of the fact that he had a huge crush on the American. Also, the fact that he had practically stalked him ever since he first came to the beach. Arthur wasn’t really human, because if he was, then he would’ve already gotten caught in the past. He was a selkie, a creature than can morph into a human being by taking off their seal-skin. The first time he saw Alfred was three years ago. Back then, Arthur had no interest in going on land (except for the thing called ‘tea’. It was the only reason why he even took off his skin in the first place), but when he saw Alfred walking on the beach with a lonely expression, he became curious. It wasn’t the first time he encountered a human, but it was the only time he paid attention to one. 

For three years, he watched Alfred behind beach rocks, from afar, and sometimes as a seal swimming in shallow waters. Each time Alfred came back to that beach, Arthur would always find himself watching him and grow even more curious. He wanted to know his name, who he was, where he came from, what was his favorite type of fish was, and the like.  There was just something curious about the human that he wanted to find out, and before he knew it, he had developed something else other than curiosity for the man.

“I…I should go.” Arthur stood up and briskly walked away before the other man could say anything else. Alfred thought that the man was strange, a little reluctant too, before he noticed the cloak lying on the ground. “Hey!” he yelled, “I think you dropped this!” he raised the furry cloak above his head. Arthur turned around and felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Oh no…” he whispered to himself. Alfred waved the seal-skin around like a flag, he said something else to the selkie, but he barely registered them. 

He has my skin. He is holding my skin in his hands.

Those words were the only things going on through his mind, he slowly walked back to Alfred. He could feel his cheeks burning as he approached the man, his heart hammered in his chest as he stood before the American. “You dropped this.” Alfred said as he handed the selkie his skin. Arthur refused to look at the human, he was embarrassed to the point where he wanted to curl up in a hole and die. He knew what it meant when a human takes the skin of a selkie, if only he wasn’t careless, he wouldn’t have gotten himself betrothed to a human. “Th…thank you.” He stuttered, wondering if he should tell the American what he had done. Alfred flashed him a grin, “You’re welcome dude. That’s some strange towel you have there.” He remarked.

“It’s not…nevermind.” He wrung the skin on his hands, now nervous that the human might think of him as strange. He was quiet until Alfred asked him another question, “So, what brings you here to the harsh beaches of the British Isles?”

“Wh…what?”

“What are you doing here, dude? You a swimmer?”

Arthur’s mind was racing, he couldn’t almost understand the human. He’s quite talented with the human language, but he somehow found himself speechless in front of Alfred. His mouth opened and closed like a fish before he could reply, “Swimming. Yeah, something like that. I swim.”

You’re brilliant, Arthur. Fucking brilliant.

“That’s cool.” Alfred flashed a grin. He was screaming internally behind his smile. This stranger on the beach was the most gorgeous creature he has ever laid his eyes on. He’s seen pretty faces before, but damn; this guy seemed like he was pulled out of a fairytale. There was a peculiar aura surrounding the strange man, he was like a mystery begging to be solved by Alfred.

“What…what about you?” the man stuttered out, “What brings you here to the beach?” 

“Well,” Alfred scratched his head, “I just like to walk my problems off here. The sea makes me calm, and helps me escape from the harsh reality of life.” The selkie only nodded at his statement. The two of them stood awkwardly there for another minute before Arthur gave the human a quick farewell and fled. Alfred tried to call out to him, but he was too far away. He sighed and kicked the sand beneath him.

“Damn, I didn’t even get to catch his name.”

.

A week later, Alfred found himself walking along the beach where he first met the strange man. He couldn’t stop thinking about the weird encounter he had on that beach. He hoped that he could see him again if he went back there, maybe even catch his name and get a date for the weekend.

The cold sea water lapped at his feet as he strolled along the shore, he kept on looking around him to see if he could find the nameless man again.

Seagulls. Sand. Seagulls. Water. Man. Rocks. Seagulls.

His eyes focused on the man sitting on top of the rocks, he recognized him immediately. The familiar mop of blonde hair and soft green eyes that held mysterious beauty wasn’t easy to forget. Alfred practically ran towards the rocks, “Hey!” he shouted, getting the attention of the peculiar man. Arthur stared at the human as he ran across the beach towards him. He didn’t feel scared, but he was a little nervous about the American. He didn’t want him to find out that he was a selkie, he might never return to the beach and probably be scared of him. He’ll try to play it cool and pretend that he is human, if he could do that, then he could marry him.

The thing about selkies is that if their skin is taken from them, they either have to marry their betrothed or die of a curse. He’d rather marry the human, because the curse is the most painful way a selkie could perish. It’s not his fault that things are supposed to be this way, selkies don’t make the rules after all. Alfred stopped by the rocks, he and the selkie stared at each other for a few moments before the American cleared his throat, “I didn’t catch your name, last time we met.”

Arthur’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He mumbled out a few words, and cleared his throat, “I…My name is Arthur.” He looked away, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Nice to meet you Arthur. I’m Alfred.” The American felt himself blush, he suddenly felt nervous for some reason. The man’s strange beauty was forever burned into his mind, he knew that he had to at least try to talk him up if he wanted to get an easy score, but the words became jumbled in his mouth. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, or else one thing would lead to another and he might end up never seeing Arthur again. 

“Thank you again for returning my…towel.” The selkie said quietly. Alfred barely heard him over the wind and waves, but he saw gratitude gleaming in Arthur’s eyes. “You’re welcome, dude.” He smiled. Nothing happened for a few minutes, until the selkie jumped off from his rock and strode towards the human. The American was confused for a moment, did he do something wrong that made Arthur upset? Arthur closed the space between them until their noses were almost touching, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at the human.

If only I wasn’t careless…If only I didn’t get to meet him…I wouldn’t be in this mess right now!

Alfred gazed into eyes green like malachite gems, he could feel his heartbeat quicken. “Arthur, wha—?” he never finished what he was going to say because Arthur smashed his lips on the American’s mouth. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds before the selkie pulled away and glared at Alfred, who was still trying to process what just happened. “Damn you!” Arthur hissed, “Damn you for being so nice and kind!”

Alfred frowned, “What? I was just trying to help you. Do you have something against nice people bro?” by then, he wasn’t sure if he should’ve helped him out in the first place. He probably shouldn’t have judged the book by its cover. Arthur let out a groan of frustration, he pinched the bridge of his nose and silently cursed himself.

Hey, what part of “playing it cool” did you not understand? I thought you were smarter than that.

He scolded himself for panicking. Why did he even panic in the first place? Arthur turned scarlet, he wished that whatever deity was out there would strike him down right there and then. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… to do that.” He stammered, “Just forget that I ever did that. Forget you ever met me.” He began to walk away, thinking that maybe dying of a curse isn’t so bad after all. Alfred grabbed his wrist and yanked him back, “Oh, ya ain’t going anywhere until you explain yourself!” The selkie let out a cry, he was face to face with Alfred once again. “Hey, let go of me!” He tried to pull away, but the human’s grip was strong. “Not until you tell me what’s going on!”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because…because if I did…” Alfred heard a sob from the selkie, “You’d stop coming back, and…and I wouldn’t be able to…I don’t want to…” Arthur spoke brokenly, tears streamed down his cheeks. Alfred felt guilt climbing up his throat, he loosened his hand on the other’s arm. “Oh, god. I’m…I’m so sorry—!” And in that moment, Arthur took the chance to escape. He ran towards the rocks to retrieve his skin; he didn’t notice Alfred following behind him. Just as he was about to put it on, the human caught up with him and his eyes widened at the sight. “Arthur!” Alfred reached out his hand towards him, but was too late. The last thing the human saw was the tail of a very large seal as it jumped into the cold waters.

.

Alfred knew what he saw, but he did not want to believe it. He saw Arthur’s pale face before he turned into a seal, and disappear into the ocean. He wanted to believe that he was just hallucinating, that what he saw was some kind of schizophrenic episode. Deep down however, he knew that what his eyes saw was true. He knew that Arthur was real. He did a little bit of research about human-seal creatures and stumbled upon the folktale of the selkie. That’s how he found out what Arthur really was, and why he was so upset at him. He didn’t know back then that taking a selkie’s skin meant that he was proposing to him, now he felt flustered whenever he thought of Arthur.

For the past six months, he had visited the beach where he last saw Arthur but he never saw him there again. He wrote letters and put them inside bottles, then he threw them into the ocean to be dragged away by the currents. A bit cliché, but he had no other way of communicating with the selkie. He waited for his reply patiently.

He visited the beach every day, he would even camp out at night at the beach when the winds were harsh and the temperature was almost freezing. He waited for days, weeks, and months, but he did not waver. It was almost a year since he last saw Arthur, but his memory still felt like it all happened yesterday. Alfred could still hear his voice, he could still picture his eyes, green as ever, his wheaten hair, his cold skin, his warm lips, everything about him that he noticed during the two times they encountered. He wanted to see Arthur, no, he needed to see Arthur. He was ready to wait for a hundred years as long as he saw the one who captured his heart, even if it was just for one last time.

.

A storm was brewing over the ocean, the winds were almost unforgiving that morning. Alfred went to the beach despite the brewing storm, the wind and rain didn’t bother him anyway. The beach was more colorless than usual days, the waves were grey, and the dreary atmosphere made the whole beach feel depressing. He scanned the familiar surroundings, hoping to at least find something different, and something different he found. Bottles littered the shore, most had barnacles and corals growing on them, and they led to the rocks where he last saw him. Alfred ran as fast as his legs could go, the wind and rain stung his face like a million needles but he did not pay attention to the pain. He almost tripped over the bottles and rocks in the sand, he was almost at the rocks.

Please, please, please. Please be here.

He felt disappointed when he only saw more glass bottles, the adrenaline he felt slowly disappeared. 

Maybe I am going nuts. Why did I expect him to come back? He’s just a figment of my imagination, I just made him up.

Alfred fell on his knees.

I just made him up because I wanted to escape reality so bad.

He could see his tears blurring his eyes.

But why does he feel so real?

He let out a cry, and became a sobbing mess. The weather seemed to feel his sadness, the winds picked up and heavy rain fell from the dark clouds. He cried out in frustration, loneliness, and hopelessness. The sea cried with him. He almost missed the soft voice that called out to him.

“Alfred.”

He gasped and searched around him, then his gaze landed on the familiar figure atop the rocks. Arthur gave him a sad smile and jumped off the rock. The American was frozen in place, he was wondering if the cold was making him delirious or that he had finally gone nuts. The selkie slowly approached him, in his hands were some of the hundreds of letters Alfred threw into the sea. The papers were wet and torn, the ink had already smeared some of the words, making them almost unreadable, but Arthur held onto them like a lifeline. "Arthur." the human said breathlessly, he couldn't believe his eyes. After almost a year of yearning and waiting, the moment he longed for was finally here. But he didn't know what to do, all he did was wait and wait, and he didn't know what would happen when they would meet again. 

The selkie stood right in front of him, the sad smile on his lips never leaving his face. Alfred muttered his name once again, he stepped closer until the two were mere inches apart. Arthur looked up to him, "You look tired." he said, placing a hand on the human's cheek. "I'm sorry." he rubbed his hand over the warm skin. "Where...where were you? I waited for you everyday, I wrote you letters—"

"I know. I've read them all." Arthur interrupted.

"Then...then, why? Why did you make me wait? Why didn't you come back—!"

"I was scared, Alfred." The selkie cut him off once again. Alfred couldn't think of anything to say back, so he waited for him to continue. "I was...I was afraid, that you'd reject me. That you'd stop coming back, that you'd never show yourself to me ever again." Arthur confessed, his voice was brittle but his smile never wavered. 

"That's what I have been thinking of everyday, it ate me from the inside." He softly chuckled, "I guess I was wrong. Despite knowing who I really am, you still came back and looked for me, you waited day and night." his grip tightened on the tattered papers in his hands, "I feel terrible. If only I had been more braver, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe, we could've worked." he laughed bitterly. His laughter was interrupted by a sharp pain in his chest, he winced and crumpled to the ground. "Shit, Arthur!" Alfred caught the selkie in his arms, surprised at the touch of his freezing skin. 

"Alfred..." His voice was weak and almost inaudible in the storm, The Curse was slowly killing him from the inside, it was the most painful thing he ever felt. He heaved and sobbed, he curled into Alfred's chest. "Arthur, hey, hey, hey! C'mon, wake up!" he shook the selkie's bare shoulder, his skin was pasty and unaturally pale. The other only moaned in response, he could feel The Curse eating away his insides and skin. The American kept calling Arthur's name, he tried to keep him awake by shaking him occasionally.

The storm raged around them, wind and rain blew against the two of them. The letters in Arthur's hand were long gone, drenched by the rain and blown away by the wind. The selkie only felt numbness below his knees, but he felt Alfred's warm embrace, it felt heavenly. He had so much more to say to the human, but he knew he had little time left. "Alfred..." His voice was almost a whisper, "Yeah? What is it, Arthur?" the other man asked breathlessly, he stroked the selkie's wet hair. 

"Promise me..." He croaked, "Please, promise me."

"Yeah, I promise. What is it that you want me to promise you?"

"When...when I'm reborn. When we meet again...please, marry me." Alfred's eyes widened, before turning soft as he gazed down at Arthur. He nodded, "Yeah," he kissed the selkie's forehead, "I'll wait for that day. And when that day comes, I am going to marry you." 

Arthur's half-opened eyes shone with tears, "I wish we had more time..." he leaned into Alfred, who nodded in agreement. They stayed that way until Arthur was nothing but sea foam. The storm stopped just as he disappeared. Alfred cradled nothing in his arms, but he imagined that the selkie's form was still curled around him. He was wet, cold and lost. What was he supposed to do now? Should he move on?

Maybe. I don't think I would ever forget something like this though. 

He left the rocks, and the beach behind. He stopped waiting by the sea everyday, he stopped writing letters and stopped going to the beach whenever he felt upset. Arthur would cross his mind every now and then, and he would always end up thinking that if he had done things differently, took all the risks and had been more confident, maybe he could've scored an easy date that weekend.

***

I did a few changes to the folktale for the sake of the plot. I kinda rushed this one too, I've been busy the past couple of days. Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed the story!

[echodrops]

I just read your post about shipping and energy and I finished it with an interesting question in mind. A los of the examples you use to defend the theory the "tension" Or energy beetwen the characters have some Interactions that could be consider "Toxic" Así a relationship, but because of that tensión that just make more fans ship it. Emotions of jelaously, hate, self worth bla bla. I would like to know your opinión on Toxic relationships on shipping and the difference (1/2?)

And the difference of how people Accept it depending if the ship is Slash or het. Dont get me wrong. What I try to exploin in My crappy English is that sometimes I have seen shippers calling Toxic and unhealthy het ships (I can give you plenty of examples) but at the same time drowning in feelings about the exact same concept on Slash. It can be domination, bickering, power dinamics etc.   Please a dont send this ina negative context its just something I have notice (2/2)

No worries, I got you. I think your point is really valid and there are a lot of discrepancies in how people ship when it comes to het versus slash.

In this case, my answer to this has three different parts to it:

1) I am always very, very cautious about applying the term “toxic” to a fictional relationship because--and I am aware this is not a popular opinion to have on tumblr--I do see a clear distinction between fiction and reality. Can systemic, widespread efforts in media to normalize something have impacts on public perception? Sure. Japan’s thing for twelve-year-old girls in anime is fucked up, my dudes. But in terms of fictional relationships, would any sane person look at things like, say, a psychopathic villain and hero ship and go “Oh man, Sephiroth/Cloud is such relationship goals; can’t wait to find me a serial killer!”? “Yeah dude, I really hope my next girlfriend is a yandere who will stab me sixteen times in non-vital places for fun!” “I can’t wait to engage in armed combat with my evil boyfriend who has enslaved my best friends and won’t give them back unless I let the rest of the world perish!” ...said no real person ever. Lots of things happen in fiction that we--as readers and viewers--can fully appreciate would never be okay in the real world. (And yes, this does extend even to more realistic things like jealousy, bickering, bullying--I like Bakugou as a character, but I’d never be able to tolerate a person who acted like him in real life.) 

I wholeheartedly believe that, outside of illegal things which should obviously be reported, each person has responsibility only for their own fandom experience, and I highly encourage people to make full use of the blocking and filtering features available in fandom spaces to avoid any content that makes them feel uncomfortable or any ships they find to be unhealthy.

So: My opinion on toxic ships is that virtually any ship in this world could be perceived as toxic by someone, and that the alternative--a world in which the ONLY ships we’re allowed to write about or draw or even just like are those which are perfectly healthy pure pure love-fests--sounds horrible to me.

2) Very few people ship without an endgame in mind. I can’t think of anyone who looks at two characters who absolutely hate each other and thinks “Wow, I can’t wait to write a 100,000 word fic in which their relationship does not evolve in the slightest and they end the story hating each other exactly as much as they did on Day 1!” JK, maybe I can, I was in the Durarara fandom, after all. When people ship “toxic” relationships, it is almost always with the idea of character growth and change in mind--the idea is “They are not healthy for each other now, but the whole point of my story or art is that they’ll become healthy for each other over time.” The power of love can heallll peopleeee.

Are the characters jealous of each other now, aggressive toward each other now, enemies right now? Obviously in the shipper’s mind, these are challenges that can be overcome in time by the characters learning and developing into better versions of themselves. Perhaps this is an overly optimistic worldview that leads people to make bad choices in real life--awful people in real life rarely change as much for the better as characters in fiction are capable of changing, but that’s the beauty of fiction: it doesn’t show us people as they are, but people as we wish they could be. We want to believe that the toxic pair of characters can find common ground and heal each other. That the people who are jealous of each other will instead come to appreciate each other by the end. That the misunderstandings will be cleared up. That mistakes will be forgiven. People typically aren’t shipping a toxic ship because they love toxicity--they’re shipping that relationship specifically because they see potential beyond that tension.

We typically ship with “happily ever after” in mind, with the understanding that the life is too hard and people too flawed for that road to always be an easy one.

3) I think you are right that there is a discrepancy in the way that people view het ships and slash ships; namely, there is a discrepancy between the way het ships and mlm ships are viewed.

There are probably a lot of long and complicated sociological explanations for this that someone with more research in the field could explain better, but my first thought on this is that the discrepancy is based primarily on how fans understand male and female dynamics versus male and male dynamics.

For example, society is coded strongly to view a man who hits, dominates, or is aggressive to a woman as a very, very bad guy. (Perhaps this is something widespread media depictions have normalized?) Whereas “dude kicks another guy’s ass” has a whole different connotation in modern views. It is certainly a double standard, and part of the reason that so many male victims of abuse, sexual assault, domestic violence, etc. go ignored. Men are viewed as “too strong” to be victims; therefore, even many of the “wokest” fans can accept two male characters having a violent dynamic, when they would never accept that scenario between a male and female character.

That said, I think we also need to recognize that the way female characters are portrayed in media contributes to this problem. A preponderance of female characters in media are limited in what they can do and the situations they are allowed to engage in. As with BNHA, for example, “good” women are not allowed to be violent, jealous (other than over boys), aggressive, etc. Women are simply treated as not eligible for a wide variety of the dynamics that fictional men are written with. A male character having a superiority-inferiority complex over his also-male rival? Not surprising in the least. A male character having a superiority-inferiority complex over a female rival? Pshhh, yeah right. A female character bitterly jealous over a male character’s power, leadership, or skill? Surely she just admires his ability. Through a combination of misogyny and toxic masculinity, the stories themselves tell readers that unhealthy dynamics are commonplace and acceptable when they happen between two males, while “good” female characters should only be a source of healthy, supportive dynamics.

If we’re talking about unintended messages that writers send readers/viewers when it comes to character dynamics, this is definitely one of them!

tl;dr: Writers train their readers to expect and want certain things, but often do so carelessly or while unaware of the ways their own stereotypical societal views and cliche genre conventions will be taken and transformed by fandoms.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 232: Giant Bitchslap Arm

Previously on BnHA: Gigantomachia woke up and started ninja-running toward Aichi prefecture. Then all of a sudden we cut to Hawks just chilling on an Osaka rooftop with a bag. Everyone was like, “whoa, Hawks, what are you doing in this arc?” Hawks was all “well I’ll show you” and then he had a flashback where he fucking murdered Best Jeanist, probably, and everyone was like “um, hey, what the actual fuck” and Hawks was like “well you asked” and we were all filled with regret for having done so. Back in the Ol’ Villain City, Twice caught up with Tomura and Spinner and they were very happy to see him, and Tomura was like “so anyway we’re almost at Re-Destro’s tower and I can’t wait to fucking kill that guy” and the others agreed but they also worried that Tomura was too exhausted to keep this up much longer, and so Twice went on ahead to try and finish off RD on his own. The chapter ended up with Twice #241762-D arriving at the top of the tower to confront RD and rescue my boyfriend Giran.

Today on BnHA: Twice creates some clones of Tomura and the gang to help him out. Re-Destro then insta-kills one of the clones and tells Twice that he’ll kill Giran if Twice uses his quirk any more. He then makes his arm go all big and he just fuckin’... [gestures wildly] WHIPASH!! and just smacks them all to death, and then he goes over to where Giran is and gets ready to kill him while he and Twice are having a moment. Thankfully the not-quite-dead-yet Tomura clone intervenes, and as he fights him, Re-Destro launches into a big villain monologue about the Mother of Quirks, a.k.a. the mother of the first superpowered child to ever be born. Long story short, that baby grew up to be Destro, and his mom was all “please be kind to him and let him live in peace!” and so they fucking killed her because people are terrible. As RD is wrapping up his story and about to kill the clone Tomura, the real one reaches the tower and is all, “TOUCH!!!” This is the single most badass thing anyone has ever done, and the chapter ends with a wobbly Tomura confusedly interrogating an enraged Re-Destro while “We Will Rock You” by Queen plays in the background omfg.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so this happened again

listen here my anonymous friend, thank you for not spoiling me, but I do have to say that if your goal was to have me once again approach this chapter in stark terror, mission accomplished lol

here’s how it’s gonna go. I’ve got a mirror, and we’re gonna use it to cautiously peek around corners before clicking to the next page, and from what I understand that should protect us from being instantly killed by Horikoshi’s murderous basilisk glare. the characters, on the other hand, well...

what kind of sound effect is this

glomp glomp? are these Horikoshi sound effects? does he know his little Twice clones are making enthusiastic hugging sounds?? and yet this is oddly in character though

also it looks like he’s cloning at least one Tomura and Dabi! so that should be fun. we get to see RD presumably murder them all on this little test run, and then they’ll hopefully have a better idea of how to approach this on their second go-around

RD says he had a lot of guards down below, and he’s praising Twice’s quirk. well, his “superpower”, anyway

that was the title of this chapter, incidentally; “quirks and superpowers.” I do vaguely wonder why they’re so insistent on using different terminology for it, and I wonder if there’s an actual reason for that

anyway so now Jin is yelling at the clones that they’re clones. so it’s okay if they die and stuff. lol. I’m sure that makes them feel a whole lot better

you guys this is fucking amazing though

I wonder if this Tomura is less sleep-deprived? also, Twice duplicated the hands as well! that’s something that was pointed out to me a little while ago, back when they were fighting Gigantomachia. this actually seems a bit iffy to me now that we’ve been reminded that he needs to understand the details of something in and out before he can copy it. like, he couldn’t copy the quirk-be-gone bullets because he didn’t know how they worked. but somehow he knows how these hands work though??

or maybe he doesn’t, and these hands don’t actually work like the Real Deal hands. that’s probably the case actually. so anyways I wonder if this Tomura will act a little different. I’m probably overthinking this to the extreme lol

and Twice and Dabi are making the exact same joke I made three paragraphs earlier about “that should make them feel a whole lot better.” get your own material you assclowns

last but not least, lol at him having to reiterate his tale of bravely overcoming past trauma yet again to Compress because he missed the whole story. poor Compress, all confused and out of the loop. I wonder if Twice duplicated his robot arm. it’s hard to tell in the picture whether it’s missing or he’s still just in the process of creating it

oh shit

heh. it’s possible Jin has not thought through the potential long-term consequences of this little undertaking at all sob. but that’s a problem for future Twice! right now current Twice has more important things to deal with, like kicking Re-Destro’s ass

yeah, you see, he’s all “don’t worry about that right now” and presumably tucking that whole notion away someplace in the back of his mind to be properly fucked up by later on. as anyone with ADHD can tell you that’s clearly the best way to deal with all of your problems

-- oh shit and it looks like this particular Twice doesn’t really need to worry about that anymore in any case

what is it with people in this manga being decapitated lately. who hurt you Horikoshi

uh, so. hey

are they?? they fucking outnumber you by a ton. though as you’ve just ably demonstrated, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything

fuck. okay let’s pause this for a sec to get our bearings here. so a bunch of clone Twices have RD cornered with a clone Dabi, Tomura, and Compress, all of whom have their own quirks, but presumably weaker versions of them. they’re also each basically one hit point away from a swift death, which is definitely something to consider

meanwhile RD has just the one of him, but possesses an unknown quirk, and does not seem to be at all fazed by the current situation which is a bit unnerving. oh yeah, and he does still have a hostage, though, if the others insist on taking their sweet time to go and untie my boy Giran. yeah. so that part’s also not good. dammit Twice untie him already

SHIT

MOTHERFUCKING -- OKAY JIN, LISTEN UP, NORMALLY I’D TELL YOU TO CALL HIS BLUFF, BUT A LITTLE MOUSE (ETA: referring to poor dead Miyashita, not the anon from earlier! I only just realized how that could possibly be read as being weirdly passive aggressive or something and that’s not the case! sorry anon!) INFORMED ME THAT THIS GUY DOESN’T ACTUALLY FUCKING PLAY AROUND, THOUGH. I HAVE A FEELING HE CAN AND WILL DO EXACTLY WHAT HE’S PROMISING, SO PLEASE TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY OMG I DON’T WANT YOU TO HAVE ANOTHER FRIEND’S DEATH ON YOUR CONSCIENCE AFTER WHAT HAPPENED WITH MAGNE

sob. where’s that mirror omg

okay... and we’re cautiously clicking forward... and good, Jin looks appropriately shook

maybe a little too shook. look I didn’t mean for you to just immediately freeze and surrender though, guy

aww but Tomura’s reassuring him

yes but as I already explained, you’re all technically one love tap away from the sweet embrace of death here while he’s at full power. it’s iffy dude. idk. I really like that you immediately spoke up to comfort your bro though! the League of Gentle Hearts continues to warm my soul

oh my god but seriously look at them

even Dabi is getting in on the friendship action. even if I’m not quite sure how he intends to not burn Giran to death along with RD lol. but at least his heart’s in the right place

-- oh shit

THEY LOOK SO WORRIED OMG AND LOOK WHERE RE-DESTRO IS STANDING

A COLD FUCKING CHILL JUST WENT DOWN MY SPINE OH GOD NO I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON HIS SEXY GRAY HEAD I WILL WREAK VENGEANCE ON YOU SUCH AS THE WORLD HAS NEVER SEEN, AS SOON AS I’M DONE SOBBING MY FUCKING EYES OUT

SOB I DON’T WANT TO TURN THE PAGE. THE MIRROR ISN’T WORKING. HORIKOSHI IS A SADISTIC FUCK WHO HAS NO QUALMS ABOUT KILLING OFF EVERYONE I LOVE. BEST JEANIST, GIRAN, THE DOG. EVERYONE!!

SOBBB NOOO --

WHAT THE CHRISTING FUCK

OH MY GOD NO PUT IT AWAY!! HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T STOP RIGHT NOW!! I MEAN IT YOUNG MAN!!

SOB HE’S DRAWING IT OUT FOR ALL IT’S WORTHHHHHH I CAN’T I’M NOT PLEASE WHY

FUCK YOU AND YOUR COMEDIC INSERTION OF FOUR ADDITIONAL TWICE REACTION PANELS YOU PITILESS BASTARD!!

NOOOOOOOOOOO

THE BASILISK APPROACHES, GIRAN IN ITS SIGHTS!!

OH SHIT

holy -- fucking -- I don’t even

wow

well that all went down fucking spectacularly

looooool. okay, time to move on to plan B guys. bring on the indestructible mountain man. let Tomura have his “I have an army!” / “we have a Hulk” moment

so is Giran even still alive, or did he get caught up in all of that. lol I’m just fooling. of course he’s still alive, Horikoshi is going to drag out my torture for this entire arc and make it really slow and excruciating

yeah whatever. they have a hulk. just you wait

and some of the dying Twices are glomping over to Giran to make sure he’s okay, naturally. because my feels were briefly spared for a single fucking panel and we can’t have that, no ma’am!

HAHAHA WHY

THESE FEELS, MY GOD. WHATEVER!! JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE THEN!!

JESUS CHRIST, HERE I WAS SHIPPING TOGAWICE LIKE ANYTHING, AND THEN HORIKOSHI COMES ALONG ALL “BUT ARE YOU SURE YOU WEREN’T ACTUALLY SHIPPING GIRANTWICE THIS WHOLE TIME” AND FUCK ME, HE’S FUCKING RIGHT

GIRAN IS SMILING SO SOFTLY MOMENTS BEFORE HIS LIKELY DEATH, AND I’M ABOUT TO PERISH IN A TYPHOON OF EMOTION. GIRAN IF I COULD LEAP IN THERE AND TAKE THE BLOW FOR YOU I WOULD

YOU GUYS HERE IT COMES. IT’S BEEN NICE KNOWING YOU ALL. LET’S ALL HOLD HANDS AND WAIT IN HELPLESS TERROR LIKE IN TOY STORY 3

and Twice makes sure Giran’s not alone at the end though. god I’m about to lose it for real though, shit

-- !!!!!!!!!!

(ETA: lmao I love that it’s making a “TCH” sound. like that hand is so done with his bullshit.)

what THE FUCK TOMURA ARE YOU SERIOUS?!! I WAS ALL SET TO GO ALL “OH HAPPY DAGGER” HERE AND THEN YOU TURN UP TO SAVE THE DAY WHAT IS HAPPENING

WHAT IS THIS CRAZY ADRENALINE RUSH AHAHA. DON’T BE FOOLED, THAT IS RALPH WIGGUM “I’M IN DANGER!” LAUGHTER THOUGH

but wow, so yeah. feels postponed. fucking deferred, motherfucker. FIRST WE GET OUR FIGHT ON

oh hey! funny you should mention! cuz it’s just that he’s been trying to prove said worth for the last six weeks! so if you could provide some convenient way for him to actually do that, that would actually be great. Machia is a harder sell than Simon fucking Cowell, so

oh, he’s still talking

actually this is super interesting to me omg. also that’s really fucked up. poor Damien! he didn’t do anything! all he did was glow a bit, what is wrong with people

(ETA: I have been informed by many kind people that Destro is not in fact the glowy baby Damien from China lol. I got kinda mixed up there lol.)

probably cuz they killed her

yep

yeah that seemed to be where that was leading. society is predictably fucked up, etc. that poor lady

this has nothing to do with anything, but I just want to throw it out there that I would kill to read an AU with the 1-A kids set in this time period roughly 200 years earlier where they have to hide their quirks for fear of being killed over them, and they’re all just doing their best and growing up scared and traumatized and some of them are bitter at the world and others are hopeful of one day making it a better place. oh my god. “makeste, that’s just an X-Men AU” you point out and oh my god you’re right. that means it probably already exists oh shit. I need to go on another fic binge

anyway

Tomura is all “yeah I know history too” and making me feel bad. some of us didn’t grow up in this universe, Tomura

Tomura just let the man talk, I need more worldbuilding stuff for my AU headcanons

you’d think that the Army would be embracing the word “quirks”, then? this woman seems like the type of martyr figure they ought to be all over. I guess there’s more to the story and I should take my own advice and shut up and let him finish

oh

I see, so they associate the government’s use of the word “quirk” with their oppression. idk, I feel like they ought to be trying to reclaim it then. but whatever

so he’s wrapping up now

oh!!

his mother?!

DESTRO WAS THE SON OF THE MOTHER OF QUIRKS? DESTRO WAS DAMIEN?!  holy shit!!

so that means RD is descended from the original quirk bloodline! yooooo I did not see that coming at all. no wonder the rest of the Army reveres him

anyway but now the interesting part is over and he’s moving on to crazed ranting

whatever you say buddy. how did you wind up with Giant Bitchslap Arm powers if your great-great-granddad was just some dumb glowing kid though

oh now he’s getting all pompous

I’m sorry I didn’t realize having a long and tragic family history was a prerequisite for kicking ass. though if it is. may I interest you in the horrific saga of the Shimura family, though. this so-called street punk has quite his own tale of woe actually

oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

(⚆_⚆) [sits up straighter]

AHHHH THEY’RE SAVING HIM!!

YOU GO LEAGUE!! YOU GOT THIS!!

AHHHHHHH

!!!!! THEN TELL HIM TO SUIT UP

oh shit wait I think he might be talking about Actual Tomura and not Gigantomachia! even better!!

OH HEY THAT’S A NICE TOWER YOU HAVE THERE. IT SURE WOULD BE A SHAME IF SOMEONE... PATTED IT GENTLY

LOOOOOOOOOOL YESSSSSSSSSSSS

(❛ӧ❛三❛ӧ❛)

YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!

LMAO HE’S ACTUALLY BARELY KEEPING IT TOGETHER THOUGH AND IT’S THE BEST. “WAIT... YOU’RE THE GUY... BUT SHOULDN’T YOU BE... BUT WAIT WEREN’T YOU IN...?”

SO NOW IT’S ON BOTH EYES, EH? GOING FULL RORSCHACH UP IN THIS BITCH. WELL WHATEVER. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M HIGH ON THE ADRENALINE OF HAVING HAD THE FEAR OF GOD PUT INTO ME AND BEING RESIGNED TO ANOTHER CHAPTER OF HEADS BEING REMOVED FROM WHERE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE, ONLY FOR HORIKOSHI TO BE ALL “PSYCH!! I STILL LOVE YOU!” AND HAVE MR. RIGHTFUL HEIR COME UP AND FUCK UP RD’S SHIT OMG. AND I STILL SHIP GIRANTWICE!! AND GIRAN’S STILL ALIVE SOMEHOW AGAINST ALL ODDS OH MY GOODNESS

ohhhhh man. well, time to place your bets then people. who would win:

one megalomaniacal balding CEO with a giant arm who talks too much but has like an army and shit

One Sleepy Boi

hahaha. well, Tomura? time to get that worth fucking measured, then, kid

[bohrapbois]

Pancake Day

Happy Pancake Day! A glorious day also known as Shrove Tuesday and adapted into modern tradition. Although originally, people began the week by doing lent, and pancakes were an easy way of using some perishables, most people just eat pancakes and continue with whatever bad habits they’ve fallen into to!

Ben Hardy and Joe Mazzello, as typical me, could be read as friendship of relationship. Pure fluff. 

“All we hear is-” stomp stomp “-radio gaga-” stomp stomp “-radio goo goo”.

It wasn’t unusual for the cast members to be blasting Queen songs at some ungodly hour, or it wasn’t unusual to hear them sing along out of tune. But what was unusual, at least for Joe, was that Ben was standing in his apartment, the kitchen a mess, and only wearing underwear and an apron.

“What the fuck, dude?” Joe grumbled, turning the portable speaker down as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “it’s like, 4 o’clock in the morning?”

It was actually closer to five.

“Happy Pancake Day!” Ben spun around, a plate full of misshapen and oddly coloured pancakes in his hands. He seemed excited but also sleep deprived, going by the bags under his eyes and messy curls.

“What?” Joe blinked, taking another look around his partially wrecked kitchen. A few cupboards seemed to have been emptied on Ben’s search for utensils and ingredients, which were now also dusting the countertops and egg shells left all over the place.

“Pancake day. The best non-holiday holiday that there is!” Ben placed the plate on the kitchen island, and turned to bury his face in the fridge, looking for toppings. He reemerged with blueberries, strawberries, whipped cream and lemon curd.

“Firstly, your wrong - Halloween is the best non-holiday holiday, and secondly, what the fuck is pancake day?”

“Pancake day is exactly what it sounds like,” turning again, Ben marched around the kitchen as if he owned the place. “It’s a day that you get to eat pancakes all day and no one can call you fat”. The englishman half climbed onto the counter to reach the top cupboard, pulling out jam, nutella, maple syrup and lemon juice, and a quick pit-stop to grab the sugar before returning with the goods. Next were the plates. He laid them out in front of a still confused Mazzello and grabbed the cutlery.

“Although that sounds great,” accepting his fate, Joe pulled out the bar stool and sat, watching as Ben turned off the hobs and throwing the used pans and bowls in the sink to wash later, “I can’t have dairy, remember?”

“Mnhm”. Seeming as there were no bar stools his side, Ben jumped up onto the counter, sitting in a dusting of flour but not seeming to care, “that’s why I made them with oat milk”.

“You - what?” Joe looked at the offered food, and didn’t notice anything different than your usual pancake you see. Usually, dairy-free pancakes look odd and are clearly an imposter. “How?”

“My brother prefers oat milk,” Ben grabbed a few pancakes from the top of the pile, opening the container of blueberries and putting a handful on top. Then, maple syrup and a little whipped cream (a guilty pleasure of Joes), “so my mum has a family recipe she adapted over time, and I picked up on it,” he shrugged, nuding the plate still piled high with pancakes towards Joe.

Following the blond’s lead, Joe grabbed a few, smearing some nutella and a squirt of whipped cream, and together they took a bite of their pancakes. Joe moaned, near orgasmic, at the taste bursting across his mouth. Ben grinned, licking the whipped cream off of his lips before taking another mouthful. He watched Joe’s expression of pure joy as the older man seemed to wholeheartedly enjoy the impromptu, somewhat early breakfast. “Like them?”

“Like them? Fuck, Ben, I may need to marry you so you make me more of them!” Joe laughed, grabbing a few more off of the plate. Ben laughed, rolling his eyes before smearing some lemon curd (don’t judge) onto his pancake.

“Gwil may protest to that, as may your other man,” Ben teased, a pointed look towards Ben Cardy standing limply in the living room.

“Fuck Gwil, he has his girl,” Joe glanced over his shoulder, “and anyway, don’t think Ben Cardy would complain too much”.

The two chuckled, and continued to tease each other as they worked through the mountain of food Ben had prepared as New York continued it’s hectic pace below them.

“Although you may have converted me to this glorious pancake day,” Joe grabbed the plates, placing them in the sink. He looked at the load for a moment, before shrugging and turning away. Later him problem. “I may have to convert you to Mardi Gras”.

“What the fuck is Mardi Gras?”

@benhardy-1​ GET YO SELF SOME PANCAKES

[stagnot]

me, tipping back on my chair as usual: tbh idk if theyre trying to portray some sort of a bad coping mechanism but people who shared the same amount of trauma just............. wont do that to each other, u know? arya and gendry were both unwilling participant of war and were basically made and shaped as child soldiers; they were both hunted by essentially the same force of group who had forced them to live in the run to avoid said group; like...... they’re children. do people realise this? arya grew through her pre-teen (early age of puberty) when she was with gendry and hot pie. you don’t just up and forget this, i think? and gendry. gendry who have an absolute mistrust towards the whole world, who have a deep-rooted bitterness, trusts this one little girl and hot pie to essentially survive on a day-to-day basis. he was a fucking sixteen year old kid. this wasn’t the life they should’ve been living. but they had

me, tipping even more so on the back of my two legs of chairs: arya have displayed a very traumatic effect of ptsd because she already “couldn’t sleep” and yeah, ok, so the list is one of her way to cope with everything and it’s not - exactly the healthiest. but it’d helped. but point is, like.............. she was yikes! traumatised folks! and gendry? gendry was.. betrayed. twice. by two group of people he should’ve never been betrayed by; by two group of people who he has deemed family and is actually his family members. and then ser davos had to send him back to king’s landing? the one place in the world he won’t feel safe in? because the lannisters were also looking for him? do you have any idea the stress that would put on him? to just, live every day in that kingdom worried that you’ll be taken away, and then to learn that the only friend you trusted might’ve perished away in a brutal mass murder, and that she was the only one, throughout those years together, who didn’t betray you? but then you’re on your own. and you’re a sensible dude, you knew you didn’t betray her, but one day you woke up and you’re convinced that you did? it’s your fault she’s dead, it’s your fault you’re back here scared half your mind all the bloody damn time, it’s your fault you’re alone again when she was right there, have offered to be your family.

me, now nearing my Death(tm): i’m just saying.......... i get that the both of them have had different experiences post-their separation. but. personally, as the black widow had said in captain america: the winter soldier (2014), “believe it or not, it's kinda hard to find someone with shared life experiences.” and when you do, you don’t.......... just sex them up and leave them behind. gendry won’t just... let it happen and leave her be, either. you know? but that isn’t even the problem. when you look back at it, even the way they were reunited was — also really stiff up until gendry broke down a bit of a wall and she smiled. but. realistically, it should’ve been longer. again, they were children when they started. arya spent the early days (years, really) of her long journey back home with gendry as her centre point, and gendry the same. they have had the similar concern of being wanted together, took care of one another when the world didn’t or couldn’t, was there for each other when others aren’t able to. and it’s not just like, over the fucking weekend. those are months and years with just them having to rely on one another, this one child to another and hot pie, another child by the way!, along. and then, what, when they meet, suddenly those years vanished? suddenly it’s just about mutual attraction and sexual tension? suddenly its just a one-night-stand for arya and gendry just letting her be when she treated him like that? mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

me, already on my ass which are sprawled all over the floor: anyways! just saying lads! you don’t always easily meet someone with a shared life experience is all! when you do, you dont really! push them away? unless! of course! they’re trying to portray a very bad coping mechanism (by sabotaging a very stable, entirely trust-based, aged-old relationship, either platonic or romantic) by which, i suppose, they succeed! but u know. whatever. gendry is storm king.