#learning what attacks let me get a fully charged heavy off has been an incredibly fun experience tbh

[the-punforgiven]

Man for real do I have to start warning my epileptic friends about the end boss of Shadow of the Erdtree? Because like I do not have epilepsy and despite that this dude's second phase is fucking rough to look at

[ignitedbynatsu]

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Sting

A/N: Final-fucking-ly. excuse my language. You have no idea how long I’ve been playing with this idea in my head and just not being able to write it out. It was horrible. I hope you like it! I’ll try to post some more stuff the upcoming week but I can’t promise anything since everything is a bit overwhelming lately. Thank you for all the love and support! Don’t hesitate to drop me a request as well or just come and say hi 🥰

Warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel like you’re overdramatic), swearing, wounds

Genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Rogue

☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀

"Is that really all you got, Yukino" you taunted the girl as a smug look was plastered on your face. The celestial mage was panting heavily in front of you. She had come to you a couple of weeks ago to learn how to wield a sword since she felt useless in a battle when she didn't have her keys. You happily agreed to it, seeing it as an opportunity to train more.

She charged at you, holding the diamond sword you made earlier diagonally in front of her face, ready to strike but at the same ready to block any attack that comes her way, just like you taught her.

You swiftly moved away, spinning on your feet in the progress as you slowly formed diamond armour around your body. You wanted to practise closer combat without your sword, which is why you were so focused on your defence. You knew you wouldn't always be able to rely on your sword skills, so this was the perfect moment to practice. 

Nobody doubted for a second the fact that you were an excellent swordswoman,it was the exact reason why Yukino came to you in the first place. But you could get overconfident, resulting in you slacking your moves and getting careless, and that's exactly what happened

Your back was still facing the celestial mage as you took your time, presuming she wouldn't be able to recover that quickly after you swept her feet from underneath her. But you were wrong, resulting in Yukino getting a direct hit on you. Unbeknownst to her, she hit you in your blind spot which was right in between shoulder blades. It was the spot where your armour was the weakest.

You fell forward, immediately forming a dome made out of diamond around you in an attempt to shield you from any following attempts.

 Yukino gasped at your reaction, knowing you only made that move when you were hurt badly "(Y/N)! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

You let the shield crumble down again, making you visible to your friend. Placing a knee on the ground and pushing yourself up, you winced at the burning sensation. "It's fine, I was careless. It's not your fault"

Your reassuring words didn't ease the worry that was swimming through Yukino's mind "I'll go get some stuff to clean it up"

"No, it's fine, I'll go get it myself in a bit." You stopped the girl from running away as you stood up straight in an attempt to show her you were fine "you are progressing really fast"

"It's all thanks to you. Are you sure you don't need me to check up on your wound?" She offered again.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Maybe I'll try roping Sting into pampering me. That way he'd at least has done something useful today" you attempted to joke to make the younger mage feel better, and it was a success as a small chuckled left her lips. "Let's go back shall we"

Once back, the stinging sensation had still not died down. In fact, it only got worse.

"Sting" you whined as you leaned your head against your boyfriend's shoulder.

He chuckled at your childishness as he turned to look at you "yes, my love?"

"I got badly hurt during training with Yukino" you pouted "can you take a look at it?"

A chuckle left his lips once again "sure drama queen, where is it?"

"I'm not being a drama queen" you stepped away from him, the pout was still evident on your face but this time it was paired with your scrunched eyebrows.

"Of course you're not" sarcasm dripping from the words that just left his mouth.

"What do mean by that?" Your lips were now tightly pressed together, forming a straight line. You were now standing directly in front of him with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Remember that time you thought Rogue got kidnapped while he just overslept?" Sting explained, but you were quick to defend yourself "in my defence, Rogue had never once overslept."

"Fine, what about that time I twisted my ankle and thought I had broken it for sure" the crease between your eyebrows deepened as he kept listing situations "or that time you thought some guy was harassing Minerva while they were just out on a date?"

"I was just worried" you mumbled as you recalled more encounters where you were indeed overdramatic.

  "All I'm saying is, you tend to enlarge things. That's why I'm pretty sure that it's only a scratch, after all, Yukino just learned how to handle a sword. There's no way she could've hit you, the best swordswoman of our guild, that hard. But if you want I could still look at the wittle wound" he cooed at you, unknowingly worsening your mood.

"No. It's fine. I'm probably just being overdramatic again" the coldness that was latched to your words, send shivers down the guild master's spine, but before he could even muster an apology, you had turned on your heels and left to go home.

That night when Sting came home, he apologized and told you he didn't mean to make you feel that way. However, his words felt shallow, leaving nothing but an empty promise to be better.

The following days, the burning sensation only got worse, but you kept telling yourself that it was nothing. It was probably only a scratch just like Sting said.

Ignoring the pain, you kept going on about your days like normal. You kept making mental notes to not get swallowed by the worry for your guildmates and blow everything out of proportion. You absolutely did not want to be known as the girl who cried wolf.

Nobody seemed to notice, at least, so you thought. The boy in the shadows that liked observing more than talking to people noticed every small change from the moment Sting called you overdramatic.

It's why he wasn't surprised when Sting called him one morning, panic coated every word he spoke "Rogue! (Y/N) isn't waking up! I don't know what happened! Shit! Rogue! Help! What do I do?"

"Get her to the hospital as soon as possible, I'll meet you there" he replied in a much calmer voice. He knew he'd make matters only worse if he'd let his own worry shine through.

Sting had successfully brought you to the hospital in under ten minutes, Rogue shortly arrived after you two.

"I don't know what happened... She seemed fine yesterday…" Sting trailed off as the twin dragon slayers were seated next to your hospital bed.

"Did she really though?" Rogue sighed which earned him a questioning look from the blonde " (Y/N) hasn't been herself for almost a week"

"What do you mean? She seems perfectly normal to me?" Sting's gaze averted from his friend to you as he tried to recall any odd behaviour, but nothing came to mind.

A heavy sigh left the raven-haired mage again "ever since you called her overdramatic, she's been acting more distant, being less expressive. I think you hit a nerve when you said those words"

Sting was quick to defend himself "it can't be that. I apologized that night, and she told me it was nothing, that she didn't care"

"Whatever you say" he mumbled as he noticed your hand twitching.

Sting quickly grasped that same hand and waited patiently for you to open yours, while anticipation filled his. "I'll go get a doctor"

Rogue re-entered with a doctor sooner after, once you were fully awake " Ah, miss (L/N) good to see you awake"

You nodded your head awkwardly before she continued "you had a nasty looking cut between your shoulder blades, were you aware of that?"

"Yes," you mumbled as you fiddled with your finger, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.

The doctor sighed as she put the clipboard down "there was an infection spreading from that wound due to pieces of diamond stuck in it. Had you waited any longer, you would have died. Why didn't you come sooner"

You felt incredibly small as all eyes were looking at you, waiting for you to respond "I didn't think it was that bad. I didn't want to seem overdramatic"

As soon as the last word rolled off your tongue, Sting's eyes grew wide in realization. Rogue was right. "We'll give you a moment"

"(Y/N)" you refused to meet his eyes, even when he grabbed your hand to stop you from fiddling, so he tried again but with a more stern tone this time "(Y/N) look at me"

You did as he requested and wished you could sink into the darkness as Rogue could right there and then. The hurt and disappointment that were swimming in his eyes made your gut wrench as you never intended to upset him "why didn't you say anything?"

"You said that I was being a drama queen and that there was probably nothing to be worried about, so I assumed that it was just that, me being my overdramatic self" you explained, your eyes averting again to your fingers that were now intertwined with Sting.

"I thought I told you I didn't mean that" he frowned at the fact that you didn't even dare to look at him.

"But you were right!" You explained fed up as frustration tears started to form in the corner of your eyes "I am overdramatic. I blow everything out of proportion. I am just a burden that brings unnecessary stress into everyone's lives"

"Okay stop that. First of all, you are not a burden, nobody thinks that so stop it. Second of all, I am really really sorry that I made you doubt yourself. You're not overdramatic, well maybe a little, but it's not a bad thing. It shows how much you care about all of us. I'd rather have you blow things out of proportion than minimalize it and have bad things happen like this" he explained.

"You really think so?" You ask, your watery eyes finally meeting his.

"I know so. I am so sorry for making you feel so insecure about yourself. That was never my intention, please forgive me" he pleaded.

"I forgive you, I'm sorry for not saying anything sooner about the wound" you reply as you kissed his hand.

"It's alright. Now get some rest, my love. I'll be here when you wake up"

[xathia-89]

Long Lost Sibling - Hideyoshi

I was in shock and standing in front of a building that was burning to the ground. I’d saved a man much bigger than myself out of sheer instinct, but something was very wrong about the way he was dressed, and the sound of horses approaching was making no sense to me as I ran into the forest, eager to get some air around myself. I was still in my fatigues from the survey I’d been on to scout out the next potential terrorist, or whatever my superiors had decided he was when I stumbled through this hole. I’d ended up surrounded by smoke and fire, and pulled a man out to safety. I was likely suffering from smoke inhalation as another man caught me and stopped me from being thrown off the cliff.

Sasuke was the gentleman I’d been following before ending up in the fire. He explained about the wormholes, and that we were now in 1582. He had been tracking their patterns after being told that he was imagining things by his superiors, hence why he had been there and his beliefs made him dangerous to my superiors. We split at that point, and I was tracked down by the man I’d saved in the burning building and taken back to his castle.

Floating around and doing girly things in a kimono wasn’t my idea of fun to pass the time for the next three months. I ended up with the title of chatelaine as well, so it was my job to make sure the castle was well run at least. It wasn’t below me to scrub pans or floors as the staff found out. I was often telling them off for trying to carry too much at once, and then I overheard Hideyoshi doing the same.

Most of the warlords were neutral about my arrival. I was amusing and a good luck charm to Nobunaga, and designated the title of Princess, so I wasn’t going far. Hideyoshi and I kept butting heads near consistently enough when we met.

“Natsuki!” He scolded me, yet again as I put down a vase to scowl at the man. “I’ve told you before-”

“And I’ve told you before, I’m stronger than you seem to think I am,” I snapped back, glaring at the man. “This vase is heavy, but I am perfectly capable of carrying it to where I need it to be,” I enforced, turning my back on the man, as he then tried to take it off me.

I slapped his hands away, already very bored of the way he insisted on treating me like a doll. Hideyoshi then still tried to lift it.

“I’m not weak like you think I am!” I yelled, and punched him in the jaw, sending him staggering back several feet.

I made something in him snap as he charged at me with his sword out. I ducked and grabbed his knees to make him slam into the floor, and sent his blade out of reach as I went to then hook his arms behind his back in a submission pose. He swiftly threw an elbow back into my nose, blood starting to coat my lips as I then headbutted him from behind and smashed his face into the boards.

He pushed himself off the ground with a considerable force and sent me flying backwards. I was punched in the stomach, the attempt to keep me from getting back up until I could slap him hard enough to get him out of my face. I brought my knees up between his legs. A dirty tactic, but anything went when he clearly had the size advantage.

“All right, that’s enough,” Masamune was holding back Hideyoshi with the help of Mitsuhide, while Ieyasu had me pinned to the wall. None of them were looking amused, and Nobunaga appeared at the scene of the ‘crime’ with little interest.

“I’m not sure where you learned to fight, but anyone who fights like you do has no honour,” Hideyoshi’s voice was low, and we were glaring at each other despite those around us.

“I’m half your weight, and you have the height advantage,” I replied, “You don’t win by playing fair all the time, but at least I faced you head on,” I sneered, spitting out the blood that was freely pouring over Ieyasu and me.

“Take them both off to their rooms,” Nobunaga sighed, looking at his vassals like they were idiots for keeping us in sight of each other.

Ieyasu was a little rough when tending to my wounds, his green eyes staring me down as I kept pinching the bridge of my nose to stem the flow of blood. There wasn’t anything for us to discuss, I knew how to get blood out of clothing, it was just time-consuming with cold water.

Oda let himself in, knowing my wounds were superficial and glanced us both over. “It’s impressive the damage you caused to Hideyoshi,” he said, his tone neutral as he sat opposite me. “I’m tempted to know if there are any other hidden talents,” he asked, casting a demanding gaze on me.

“Nothing that would assist you in close combat,” I replied. “I’m the soldier you send out in a ‘coward’s’ attack,” I coldly smiled. “The one-shot attack they never see coming and kills instantly.”

“How do you know how to fight then?” Ieyasu asked, a frown on his face.

“You never know if they have friends,” I shrugged.

They both left, discussing something as I swiftly changed my clothing. I had the feeling I would be attending my first sixteenth-century battle soon as my nose throbbed a little when I bent over to clean out the now stained kimono.

I hated my intuition. It was nearly impossible to move appropriately in a kimono across a battlefield at the speed required. Kenshin and Shingen had both broken themselves out of the masses, and come to fight Nobunaga and Hideyoshi head on. They’d been cowards and hidden snipers in the cliffs, and one of them was going for Toyotomi. Mitsuhide was shocked as I grabbed a rifle off one of the guards and shot for the guy behind Hideyoshi who was looking to attack him while his back was turned. Akechi snatched the gun back off me, unable to comprehend how I knew how to fire and aim it, and I shrugged casually back as Hideyoshi went back to attacking the soldiers face on. I was swiftly shown how to keep reloading the guns and helped to pick off the cowards who approached from behind while dictating to Mitsuhide where the ones on the cliff were. He was instructing the archers on their fire as much as he was those on the guns. It was a case of following the obvious now and ask the questions later.

“How does a woman know these things?” Hideyoshi frowned around the campfire. Natsuki had gone to bed a little while ago, after insisting that Mitsuhide gave her enough of a lesson on the rifles that she wouldn’t need him next to her tomorrow.

“She saved you on a few occasions,” Mitsuhide pointed out. “There were those creeping up on your back, and she’d shoot them without a thought, and then direct the archers as to where those on the cliffs were. I thought a couple of those shots that came in retaliation were aimed at her, but she doesn’t seem to be injured,” he frowned.

“My lords!” One of the healers was looking pale, running up with an apologetic look. “It’s Lady Natsuki, we can’t get the bleeding to stop.”

“What bleeding?” Hideyoshi snapped.

“She sustained a bullet wound to the shoulder and her upper arm,” he began, before Toyotomi and Akechi both legged it to the tent.

“You tell one person to get some help, and he goes straight to the people you don’t want to know,” I sighed, my teeth gritted tightly as the bullet was lodged very uncomfortably in my shoulder. The adrenaline had run out, so now the pain was flowing freely. “Anyone any good at this?” I gave up, offering the hook I’d fashioned to get it out with.

“Just what do you think you’re doing,” Hideyoshi was taking on the mother hen role, making sure he had some clean water to hand while Mitsuhide held a candle up to see what a mess had been made of the injury.

“Trying to get the bullet out since there’s no exit wound,” I snorted like it was apparent.

“What do you think you’re doing anyway? If you’re injured, then you get medical attention,” Toyotomi was continuing on with a massive frown as Akechi was digging around for the bullet before the former gave me a bottle of sake to make it easier to deal with before the shell dropped to the floor. Between Mitsuhide and me, we sorted the injuries, packing them and bandaging them. I was a little tipsy on the sake by the end of it, as the three warlords were all looking at me like they would their little sister who scraped her knee following them into the woods.

“It’s not exactly like I’m useless, so I might as well help,” I shrugged, and then winced as I remembered that we had just sorted out my wound. “They’ve got people camped on the cliffs, so get scouts out tomorrow to counteract that, or if they’ve retreated from it then it could turn into our tactical advantage,” I argued.

“You need to stay here and rest,” Hideyoshi began.

“Who are you, my mother?” I snorted. “I am a fully grown adult and perfectly capable of making my own decisions,” I glowered.

“No, but he does pass the chances of being your brother,” Mitsuhide slyly added, making us both freeze before we faced the serpent. “Didn’t you have a sister by the name of Natsuki who disappeared as a child?” His tone was aloof, but the whole conversation was turning me inside out.

“You do both have a similar appearance,” Nobunaga spoke up, “And you both have the same values.”

“Impossible, I left Natsuki with a hairpin, and she always has her hair down,” Toyotomi scoffed.

Then I had the attention of the entire tent. I always wore a necklace, and it had a specific pendant on it, I had always refused to remove it under any circumstances. Hideyoshi’s face fell as I lifted it out from under the layers of my kimono.

“Like that one?” Mitsuhide asked somberly.

It was an incredibly awkward conversation on the way home to Azuchi. Mitsuhide was enjoying himself as he was the one giving me a ride and would use every opportunity to try and wind up Hideyoshi. Though he was far too absorbed in his thoughts to get the reaction that Akechi was hoping for. Nobunaga had already decreed that I would be undergoing thorough matchlock rifle training with Mitsuhide once we returned since it was obviously a waste of my talents not to do so.

I knew exactly what my ‘tutor’ was doing. He was supposedly correcting my stance with the rifle, but having his admittedly well-built body pressed firmly against me was making it difficult for me to focus if he kept himself there. I bit my inner lip as Akechi blew teasingly on my ear. I needed to ignore him and aimed for the target.

“Modern rifles are easier,” I wryly smiled. I’d glanced the target and apparently hadn’t accounted for as much of a kickback as it gave.

“Well, you have had five hundred years to perfect them,” Mitsuhide smirked and helped me to reload.

“Stop agitating Hideyoshi,” I quietly said, “I know you’re doing all this to wind him up because we’ve just found out we’re siblings. And I know he watches these sessions because you wind him up.”

Akechi looked surprised for a moment, and then a trademark snake-like smile appeared on his face. His finger tilted my chin up to look him in the eyes. There was an unbridled passion hidden deep within him, as he edged closer until our lips were millimetres apart.

“Your choice princess,” he whispered, a taunting tone to his voice as I pulled away firmly.

“I’m not your plaything,” I scolded him and moved to clean the rifle. “There are plenty of other girls about who are up for that, so leave me out of it.”

I didn’t want to admit that it hurt me to see him continuously tease me as it did during our lessons. It was annoying, I found his presence soothing, and I was able to focus better on what he was teaching me about the matchlock. Since it had been discovered that I was Hideyoshi’s sister, a lot of the castle had changed its attitude towards me, and I was treated as an actual Chatelaine, which wasn’t my intention. I was never above getting down to clean the floors with the maids, but they’d occasionally panic if I came to see how things were going and worry I’d resort to scolding them for falling behind. I had to continue to act as normal, and just reassure them I had no such intentions.

“Lady Natsuki is going to kill us,” I heard a whimper around the corner. “Snakes and rats getting into the bedding,” a sigh escaped as the maid then jumped a mile, “Oh, Lord Mitsuhide,” her tone was begging for him to bed her, and I could already imagine that she was turning on the seductress wiles.  

“Mm, nope, not going to happen,” Akechi’s tone caught me slightly off guard. “And you know that our dear Chatelaine would only scold you for trying to bed me,” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Since she doesn’t share,” I went bright red and turned the corner to confront the warlord.

Hideyoshi and Masamune both pulled me back promptly and had my mouth covered before Mitsuhide left and went on his way, while the maid went to take all the ruined sheets to the seamstresses. They waited until they knew the way was clear, and the grin I got off Masamune was unsettling.

“Okay, any ideas on that?” I sarcastically asked, folding my arms across my chest.

“We wondered if it was true, but turns out that Mitsuhide likes to tell everyone except the person involved,” Masamune chuckled, and then purposely wrapped me up in an embrace. His lips were hovering over mine, promising possession, passion and domination as I was trying to keep my head out of reach.

A smack sent Date away, and I was pressed into another man’s chest in a protective embrace. It had all happened so fast that I didn’t truly know what had happened, but  Hideyoshi and Masamune were chuckling at us.

“You were just going to keep teasing her and riling her up if I didn’t try,” Date was grinning, as I looked up to find Mitsuhide narrowing his eyes at my brother.

“I couldn’t work out if you were just trying to wind me up or not, Masamune was more than happy to help,” he casually shrugged.

Akechi pulled me back to his manor, a stony expression on his face as I was more than a little surprised by the entire situation. It had played out in such a peculiar way that it was almost impossible to believe.

The sake was delicious as I sipped at it in his room, no longer caring about the whisperings going around as I had found out that the source of them was Mitsuhide himself. He didn’t want to talk just yet, so we were going to wait for me to get drunk before much happened apparently.

“You didn’t look like you wanted Masamune to kiss you,” he stated calmly.

“I didn’t,” I replied. “I was stunned when it happened.”

The butterflies in my stomach were forming a hurricane as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I could get lost in his eyes, they told a million stories as he tilted my head up slightly. We shared the taste of the sake, slow and savouring every moment at first, before I was pinned under him on the floor and not far off crying out his name in the heights of pleasure.

Mitsuhide would do everything in his arsenal to keep me on my toes during my job as chatelaine. New staff members would be told all sorts of ridiculous rumours by the warlords and would cower at my appearance until the veteran staff would eventually correct them after so many jumpy disappearances that coincided with my appearances. I had even taken to carrying a sword about with me at all times, I had crossed blades on occasions with Masamune, Nobunaga and Ieyasu in the corridors after Akechi had decided he was bored. The biggest one he kept repeating was telling Hideyoshi I was pregnant, and my brother would fall for it each time. I was starting to dread the time it wouldn’t be a lie.

I was enveloped in a warm hug from behind while I was elbow deep in soapy water, and a kiss given to my cheek.

“I would advise caution, I have the ability to get us both wet,” I chuckled.

“Well, can’t really have that,” Mitsuhide replied, and promptly pulled me away from the sink with a smirk.

“I have work to do,” I tried playing the responsible adult card, though he would then automatically turn to kissing and nipping at my neck usually. My face fell when he didn’t, and there was something wrong with his expression. I automatically cupped his cheek, stroking his skin as I stepped closer to him.

He swept me up into his arms and ran off with me, ignoring my squeals and scoldings about not playing tricks, his smirk telling me it was useless trying to do anything about it. We ran past Hideyoshi, who merely gave me a wave, and turned to go and finish up the job I’d been interrupted in. Mitsuhide was playing me like a fiddle, but I don’t think I could have cared less. Happiness and love surrounded me, even if I was in love with one of the slippiest warlords in the Sengoku, I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

[cryptidswrite]

Reckless Abandon

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: angst mostly, a teeny bit of fluff, overwatch au, one shot + epilogue

Warnings: hella geeky with a touch of violence

Word Count: 3,976

Description: Jeongguk is Busan’s pride and joy. He protects the city from all enemies; omnic and talon alike. His face is plastered on every billboard and every street corner. You can’t even drink a can of soda without feeling like he’s watching you. The glitz and glamour he receives is endlessly irritating to you, his mechanic. When will he wake up and see that there's more important things than fame?

Author’s Note: D.va’s animated short had me feeling some type of way. So this is pretty much based off of that. Thanks, Blizzard. If only they’d make a kpop idol D.va skin. Only then will all my dreams have come true. This is my second attempt at truly writing a fic so bare with me.

“Former ESports Champion turned meka pilot, Jeon Jeongguk has done it again! Just last week he risked his life to save Busan from the Keishun ominics. At just 20 years old, he’s become South Korea’s star in the line of defense. Quick to respond to the surprise attack, Jeon and the meka squad were -”

You click off the holovideo with a roll of your eyes and pick up a clean rag to wipe of your greasy face. Rummaging through your tools, you scoff at the latest headlines. Here you are fixing up his mech from the previous week’s battle. He’s all but killed your poor baby, Bunny. The name is lame, you know and Jeongguk reminds you often. Watching how the mech bounces through the battlefields, you feel the name suits her well. So, you’ve lovingly named her Bunny. You nearly took off his head when he brought her back for repairs. The right fusion cannon had been entirely blown off, meaning you had to build a new one from scratch.

Did he care that building that cannon had caused you two sleepless nights? You doubt he’d care much if he knew. He’d probably say “Suck it up, buttercup. The enemy waits for no one.” So you grabbed your wrench and you sucked it up. As much as you hate to say it, the city does depend on him. Hell, the country kind of depends on him. It seems like too much for any one person.

You sigh and hoist yourself inside the mech to finish repairing the inside control panel. You and Jeongguk have been friends for as long as you can remember. It’s funny how you were once modifying his hoverboard when you were kids and now you’re fixing his mech as he comes home from yet another battle. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him. The boy, who was once carefree and blithe, now shoulders the responsibility of protecting an entire nation. You don’t know how he does it and honestly, you wish he didn’t have to.

Jeongguk taps on the thick glass of Bunny’s windshield. You were so immersed in the control panel, you didn’t hear him come in. Why is he here? You furrowed your brows at him as you opened the back hatch of the mech.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out taking pictures with your fans or something?” You say, sounding a little more bitter than you had intended.

He sighs, “Don’t be like that, y/n. The fame thing is annoying and overrated. I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Whatever. Really though, I told you I’d call you when I’m done with repairs and updates. She’s nowhere near ready. I need at least another week.”

“Another week?” he whines, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance and move to get out of the mech. He holds out his hand as an offer to help you down and you take it. “Guk, what’s the rush? The Keishun probably won’t attack for at least another couple of months. You really need a break,”

“You know I can’t take a break. We barely won last time. The enemy is out there evolving and finding ways to become stronger. I have to stay a few steps ahead of them. My squad, this city, the country… They need me at my best. We can’t afford to lose. If I lose, than we lose everything. I’m not going to risk that.”

“Stopping putting all of this on yourself. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. You’re only human, Jeon.”

He shrugs and says, “I know. I’ve got this.”

You know he’s not listening to what you’re saying. You sigh and give up on scolding him. It’s an old fight, you know it will come up again. He’s always worried about everyone else and never himself. It makes you so angry you could scream, but you won’t. Having been his friend for so long, you should probably learn to accept his fearless martyr attitude. But why should you have to accept it? It’s entirely unfair. While he’s off worrying about the rest of the world, someone needs to worry about him.

You turn your back to him and grab the large cable laying on the ground. You plug it into the main computer that programs the mech. You need to push this matter aside and focus on running program tests for Bunny.

“Can you please get in the mech and see if the right arm has decent mobility?” You say gently, without looking at him. You know that if you look at him right now, you might cry out of frustration and that will upset him. He has enough on his plate without worrying about you too.

“Alright.”

Once you hear the closing clicks from the back hatch of the mech, you allow yourself to turn around. The mech immediately comes to life around him and he’s fully focused on the task at hand. He does as you say and moves the right arm through a full range of motions. Somehow, he looks the most natural inside the mech. You can’t explain it.

Maybe it’s because you’re so used to seeing him in the mech. Somehow, it’s almost like Bunny has become a part of him. Maybe it’s the fluid way he pilots the mech. There’s never a hiccup or pause between his thoughts and the mech’s movements. He’s really an incredible pilot, you must admit. He never fails to leave you in awe. You’d never tell him this though. His ego is already much too big for your liking.

“She’s moving better than ever. The arm even feels lighter! How’d you do it?” He turns the mech towards you, excitement radiating through his smile. You can’t help but grin back, feeling your chest swell with pride. He did recognize your hard work.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed. I wanted to experiment with using carbon fiber material instead of the steel we have been using. It’s much lighter, but just as strong. We’ll see how this one holds up in battle and then I might replace the left cannon with the same material.”

He ejects himself from the mech to closer inspect the fusion cannon. Running his fingers along the bright green paint, he turns to you with a grin.

“This is fucking incredible, y/n. Do you know how much faster I can move? Imagine a whole meka made of this stuff. We’d be lethal!”

You laugh, “You already are lethal, but yeah. That’s the end goal. Even with just the cannons replaced, it’ll tone down the overall bulk of the mech. I’ve also been working on ways to narrow down the spread of the cannons so you can be more precise with your aim.”

“You really are brilliant, you know that?”

You smirked, “Obviously. You’d be screwed without me.”

“Honestly, I would be.”

You move around him and climb back into the mech. “Okay. Enough of the sappy shit, Jeon. Bunny and I have tests to finish running.”

“I can help, you know. It is my mech after all.”

You open your mouth to argue, but something on the computer monitor caught your eye. That can’t be right… An incoming enemy? You get out of the mech, scrambling to get a better look. The monitor flashes blood red and you can hear the shrill city sirens go off, signaling for the people of Busan to take cover. Four aircrafts are making their way towards the meka base.

“No, no, no. It’s too early. They attacked just last week. How do they have more omnics ready?”

Jeongguk had already pulled the heavy cable from Bunny and locked himself inside. His headset was on and he began checking each system to prepare for take off.

“Guk, no! Y-you're not ready. I’ll call the rest of the team. You have to sit this one out!” You say firmly, stepping in front of Bunny.

“We can’t wait for backup, y/n. The omnics will be in the city by then. I can’t let that happen. I’m going.” He looks at you fiercely and from that one look you know that you’ll never be able to talk him out of it. You feel your heart break as you step aside for him take off.

Soundlessly, you sit down at the monitor and slip on your headset. If he’s going to be an idiot and charge into battle, than you’re going to be there to talk him through it. There’s no way in hell you’re going to just sit on the sidelines and watch him get hurt. You quickly pull the radar onto the screen to find the direction the Keishun are heading.

“It looks like they’re heading north, towards Suyeong-gu.” Your voice cracks slightly as you say this.

If he recognized the hesitance in your words, he didn’t show it. “I’m on it. Boosters engaged!” He calls.

Without even a glance, he takes off from the meka base and toward the Keishun. You kept telling yourself not to cry. You have to stay focused right now, you don’t have time to cry. You pulled the mech’s dash camera on to the screen, this way you could see exactly what he sees. You also pulled up a screen from the mecha hud, in order to monitor Jeongguk’s vitals.

You watched as he soared through the sky. The enemy’s small dots on the radar grew closer and closer to Bunny’s. The aircrafts took form before the camera on the dash. They’re much smaller than you had expected, about half the size of a jet. However, you knew better than anyone not to dismiss the omnic based on the size of the aircraft. The body of the craft is flat and triangular with four cord like appendages spinning behind it. As stupid as it sounds, it reminds you a little of a mechanical squid.

The omnics spot Jeongguk immediately and aim a barrage of missiles toward him. The missiles streak through the sky at an unforgiving speed, but Jeongguk was a step ahead.

“Activating Defense Matrix.” You hear his voice through your headset, tone calm and even.

The missiles soar into the matrix and explode meters away from their obvious target. Jeongguk gave them no time to react before flying into an attack of his own. He wove through the sky and aimed his micro missiles at the nearest omnic, effectively removing it from the battle. The remaining three went separate ways; One retreating, one racing towards the meka base, and the last flew straight towards the city.

“Watch it, Guk! They’re splitting up.” You warn, voice tense.

“I see it!” He calls as he races toward the omnic retreating.

You don’t care what Jeongguk said, you’re calling Jimin for backup. You quickly type in the code to have the meka base system send for help. You pray Jimin will make it there in time.

 Bunny caught up to the enemy in mere seconds. Jeongguk flew above the omnic and shot it down from above. ‘Two down, two to go.’, you thought. Maybe you shouldn’t have signaled for Jimin to come. Just as you thought that, the Keishun omnic that was headed toward the base flipped around and headed straight for Bunny.

“Jeongguk! Behind you!” You cry, feeling your heart jump into your throat..

Caught of guard, he turned Bunny around just to be thrown in the midst of the enemy’s missile attack. He didn’t have enough time to activate his Defense Matrix, he’d have to try and dodge the oncoming missiles. He swerved sharply to the right, but he wasn’t fast enough to save Bunny’s left arm.

“Dammit.” He growled through clenched teeth. He aims for the Keishun using only his right fusion cannon. His bullets caught the enemy’s craft and the omnic fell from the sky.

“Y/n. Where’s the last one?”

“He’s headed toward the city. You’ll have to hurry.”

Jeongguk whipped the mech towards the city and sped off, pushing Bunny as fast as she could go. You could hear his bated breaths through the headset and his pleas for Bunny to make it there in time. Your chest felt tight and you thought you were going to puke. You gripped the desk fiercely, knuckles white, in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

With the last omnic in sight, Bunny unleashed an array of missiles and bullets toward the enemy. You’ve never seen Jeongguk miss a shot, never, but this time he missed. Something definitely feels off. You check Bunny’s hud for Jeongguk’s vitals and run a quick damage report on Bunny. Jeongguk is fine, but he had pushed Bunny too hard. Her boosters are beginning to fail, which is causing the mech to drag.  

“Guk, Jimin should be on-” The remaining omnic took you both by surprise. It turns it’s aim from the city and races toward Guk’s mech. He raises Bunny’s right fusion cannon to aim, but it’s too late. The omnic slams into Bunny and wraps it’s four tentacle-like arms around them. Jeongguk tries to aim the right fusion cannon towards the omnic, but the omnic was too strong and snapped the mech’s arm clean off. The Keishun was trying to crush the mech.

“Y/n. I need your help. I need you to override Bunny’s system.” His voice is calm and sure. If he’s afraid, you can’t tell.

“I-I can’t. You know that will cause her to self destruct.” You say. You didn’t realize you’ve been crying until you heard your voice crack. Dammit. This isn’t the time. You will yourself to pull it together.

“I’ll be fine, y/n. Trust me.” He tells you softly. To your right, you can see Jimin’s meka on the landing strip getting ready for take off. You quickly send Bunny’s coordinated to Jimin’s meka. He will be there soon. You just need to buy him a little time.

“I need you to buy me a few minutes to override the system. Can you do that, Jeon?” You’re lying through your teeth. You know each program on that mech like the back of your hand. You could do it in seconds, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Hell yeah, I can.”

He uses what’s left of Bunny’s left arm to swing at the omnic. You hear the sharp sound of crunching metal as he lands the hit.  He grabs his hand-held blaster from beside him, sticks his arm underneath Bunny’s windshield and fires at the omnics lower left arm. The metallic tentacle falls dead weight. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jimin’s mech take flight toward the city. So you begin to override the system.

“Alright, I’ve got it. You have sixty seconds until Bunny self destructs. Jimin will be there to catch you.”

“That’s not fast enough! We’ll be in the city by then. It’s gotta be now.” He says. You can hear the distinct clicks of the back hatch opening. You know exactly what he’s planning and your eyes widen with panic.

“Jeongguk, don’t you fucking dare.” You cry, vision blurring.

“I’ll be alright, y/n. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He didn’t give you any time to answer. He ejects himself from the mech, uses his blaster to take careful aim at Bunny’s core and fires.

You run to the window in time to see a green light flash across the sky. You know somewhere Jeongguk has fallen into the water bellow.

_____________________________________

Jeongguk can only remember small fragments of events after the initial blast. He remembers briefly fighting against the water with his lungs burning and his legs heavy. He remembers a bright light shining down on him and people shouting as the waves lapped against his listless aching body. He remembers your warm hand grasping his as he was being wheeled along under fluorescent lights. He could here your pleas for him to hold on. He wished he weren’t so tired. He wished he could squeeze your hand back and tell you he was alright.

The lights were bright and they make his eyes ache. He wishes someone would turn them off, or at least dim them. Jeongguk turns his head to the side and finds you curled up in a chair, staring out the window. He wonders what you’re thinking about. He swallows harshly, lips and throat feeling dry.

“Hey.” You hear him say, voice hoarse and tired.

You reply with a soft ‘Hi’, attention still on the street bellow. You feel exhausted. You haven’t been able to sleep since he’s been in the hospital. The doctors have offered you a bed and pills to help you fall asleep, but you don’t want them. You wanted to be here when he woke up. Now, you’re really not sure why. You’d cried all day yesterday, how do you still have anything left?

Nonetheless, you felt tears spill down your cheeks. You really don’t want him to see you cry. He hates it when you cry.

“How long have I been out?” He asks, wincing as he moved to sit up. His arms and back are still so sore. He wonders how far he fell.

“Two days, not too long.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Are you crying? God, please don’t cry. You have the ugliest crying face.” He teases you, hoping to ease the tension surrounding the room.

You turn toward him feeling absolutely furious. Standing up, you march to his bedside and deliver a sharp smack to the back of his head.

“Ow, what the hell is the matter with you?” He rubs his head glaring at you.

“What the hell is the matter with YOU? Do you know what it’s been like fucking waiting here while you were in surgery? While you’ve been sleeping? This whole thing could have been prevented if you’d just let someone help you, but God forbid you let someone else steal your fucking spotlight. You run headfirst into these life or death situations without thinking of the consequences and I’m fucking sick of it. I never should’ve let you go out there alone. I should’ve locked Bunny down and made your dumbass wait for backup. Never again, Jeongguk. I swear. I’ll never let anything like this happen again…” Your eyes are brimmed with tears and burning with a kind of anger Jeongguk has never seen from you.

“Do you really think I did all that for a headline or two?” He sounded sincerely hurt and you almost felt bad for implying that.

“I don’t know, Jeongguk. I can’t figure out if you’re extremely selfish or just stupidly selfless. All I know is that I can’t watch you kill yourself.”

“I'm not gonna die, y/n. Jesus. Will you please-”

“I love you too much for that. I….I don’t think I can be your mechanic anymore.” You cut him off, tone much softer than before. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now and you wish it hadn’t come down to this, but it feels like it has too. You can’t watch him destroy himself with his reckless decisions.

“Y/n…..I can’t do this without you. This isn’t about fame, it never has been. I just want to protect this country and everyone I love. I’ll admit, I should have waited for backup. I pushed Bunny to hard and I destroyed her. I did it to protect everyone, not for the fame. Please, I need you there…” Ignoring the plea of his body to stay resting, he leaned forward and took your hand.

You couldn’t look at him right now because you know you’d give him anything he wanted if you did. You muffled a sob with your other hand. Why does he have to make this so difficult for you?

He tugged you closer to him with a grimace and you didn’t put up a fight. You know you should have, but you couldn’t. Not when you heard the break in his voice as he whispered ‘come here’. He pulled you close and felt the sobs you had been fighting rake through your body. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and held you as close he possibly could.

“I know I’m reckless. I know I don’t think things through like I should, but I can try to be more careful. I'll take a break even. I just…. I didn’t know it upset you so much. Please, y/n. Just stay.”

“I'm sorry, Jeongguk. I-I'm so sorry.”

You tried to pull away, but he just held you even tighter. You felt his tears soak through the shoulder of your shirt. Why are you so weak? Your mind was screaming at you to get up and leave, but you just couldn't. Not with him choking out hysterical apologies and clinging to you the way he is. The dam was broken now and every little emotion that he had held back was hitting him full force. You couldn’t leave him like this. Your resolve was crumbling fast, but it didn’t matter anymore.

You laid down next to him and he clung to you. You ran your fingers through his hair while he cried. His shaky breath began to slow down and you knew he was falling asleep. You let your mind wonder.

Maybe, you could stay. Maybe, he meant what he said and he just didn’t know how seriously this affected you and those around him. Maybe, you’re just thinking too hopefully. Maybe, you’re just exhausted and incapable of making any kind of decisions right now.

“I love you, Guk.” you whispered to him. You doubt he heard it.

Your eyes felt too heavy to keep open and you let yourself finally drift into sleep.

___________________________________

You were gone when he woke up. He should've been able to predict that, but it still stung. He'd hoped that maybe you would change your mind, as selfish as that sounds. Maybe he should listen to you. He’s been in battles much worse, but this time around even he couldn't deny that he had taken it too far.

Did he really expect to be able to live a long and healthy life like this? You're right and he knew it. It's just hard to understand the reality of the situation. He needed to make some changes. It seemed dramatic when you said it, but it's true. He's killing himself and he can't keep it up anymore.

He tapped the button to call the nurses in. His head was pounding and he wasn't sure if it was the injuries or the thoughts swirling around his skull. He wandered where his phone was, if someone would bring it to him. He's ready to give up piloting mekas for good if that's what it took to keep you there. None of it really mattered if you weren't by his side. He loves you and it’s time for him to tell you.

[pdchronicles]

Long Post about Trolls in WoW

I have, for a very long time, had an issue with the way Trolls are portrayed in World of Warcraft.  On the surface, this must sound like a rather pretentious and borderline entitled statement to make, and I understand that.  I’m not trying to sit here and tell Blizzard how they should portray a group of people that they’ve created in their own game and in their own intellectual property.  Instead, I’m trying to explain a potential that I see in them.  I’ve mulled over making a post about this in a place where someone at Blizzard might actually see it, but I’m concerned it will come off as a bunch of complaining in an already saturated echo chamber.  I’m also not confident enough in my own ability to effectively capture my thoughts and articulate them into carefully ordered words.   Before I continue, be aware that I’m going to be referencing things that I’ve seen in BfA’s beta, so there will be heavy spoilers in this post.   I was prompted to make a post like this after seeing the outdoor content that will be released with the new Warfront feature in Arathi Highlands.  Before this content was datamined, we learned that Witherbark Village got an overhaul in its design, with new assets added to spruce the place up and make it look quite nice, and very Troll (even Zandalari) themed.  The Warfront content includes a quest to kill 20 Witherbark Trolls in order to drive them out of Arathi Highlands.  The quest for both the Alliance and the Horde are the same, albeit with slightly different text.  Here is the quest text for the Horde-side quest: “The bloodthirsty Witherbark tribe has always refused to join the Horde... and now that the Horde holds Arathi, we will succeed where the Alliance has failed. Drive the forest trolls from the Highlands.“ In a war between the factions, wouldn’t it make sense for the Horde to try to gain any allies that it could?  A bloodthirsty group of Trolls seems to fit right into the Horde that Blizzard is currently portraying to us.  It’s right there in the quest text.  The Horde’s mentality here is “if they’re not with us, kill them”.  It’s true that this convenient alliance has been done before, such as way back when the Orcs aided the Darkspear Trolls.  Or, when the Taunka joined the Horde in Wrath.  And it’s likely being done again with the Zandalari, because I don’t understand how they would join a Horde led by an undead unless the circumstances were incredibly dire.  (More on that later.)  However, I think the only thing more tired than “convenient alliances” is the “Trolls being driven away from their home” trick.  Darkspear by the naga.  Drakkari by the Scourge.  Amani by the elves.  Frostmane by the Dwarves.  And so on, and so forth.   I think that it’s totally in-character for the Alliance to want to drive the forest Trolls out of Arathi.  However, I think it would make more sense for the Horde to try to work with them, even if it’s just leaving them be and perhaps encouraging them to attack the Alliance for them.  It’s possible that I’m stuck clinging to an idea about the Horde that is no longer relevant.  Before we had Garrosh, who was interested only in orc superiority, and before we had Sylvanas, who cares only about herself, we had a Horde that served as a refuge for the people of Azeroth who suffered because they were different.  This was something that I could relate to, deeply, because I have always felt different myself.  I’m a gay man living in a predominately conservative part of the United States, a country that seems on the brink of a moral crisis, where the people in charge, if they had their way, would deny me basic human rights in the name of their religious beliefs.  I live in a country where the current “president” jokes that his vice-president wants to “hang all the gays”.  I don’t think I need to explain this in any more detail to show how my own feelings of being an outsider made me relate to what the Horde was.  They were a group of misfits who banded together to help each other because the other people around them hated them and didn’t want them to be a part of their world.   The Horde feels much different now.  I struggle to both relate to it, and feel like I’m a part of it.  Still, it would be nice to see a little bit of that from time to time, and the situation in Arathi Highlands offers a small opportunity to do so.   Another reason I felt I needed to rant about all of this is because I’m simply tired of the Trolls being the go-to bad guy fodder.  As if it wasn’t obvious, they are my favorite race in the Warcraft universe.  I love the fact that they are one of the oldest sentient civilizations.  Zuldazar is the oldest city, still standing, in the world.  They mastered magic before the elves.  Elves are descended from Trolls, the magic of the Well of Eternity mutating them into what they are.  Trolls, through their Prelates of Rezan, also mastered the art of the holy warrior before Human paladins ever came into existence.  The Amani Trolls hunted down the C’Thrax and sacrificed almost everything they had to defeat Kith’ix.  They saved the world.  Trolls are the oldest (we think) non-Old God or non-Titan created beings on Azeroth.  They called the Titans “The Travelers”, and they witnessed the Titans first battle with the Old Gods.  Trolls never enslave anyone.  When the lower castes of the Zandalari wished to leave the Empire and go out into the world, the Zandalari encouraged them to do so.  These lower castes would eventually become the Gurubashi, Amani, and Drakkari tribes.  It’s because of these tribes that the Aqir haven’t destroyed Azeroth.  The Trolls’ persistence at hunting them down forced them to split up into separate groups themselves:  Azjol-Nerub, Ahn’Qiraj, and the Mantid Empire. That was quite the history lesson, but it helps to articulate my point.  The Trolls have a long, deep, and varied history.  This makes it an absolute travesty that they are used for little more than villain fodder and comic relief in the game itself.  Every circumstance of the Trolls doing something evil can be traced back and attributed to one thing:  Desperation.  They are constantly losing their home to outside invaders.  The first example of this was the elves, who stole the Troll’s lands because they wanted the magic within it.  The Great Sundering, a fault of elves, caused terrible destruction, death, and starvation for the Trolls.  In desperation, the Trolls called out to their gods, and these calls were answered by Hakkar, and this led to even more suffering.  The Drakkari killed their own gods for their power in a desperate attempt to stop the Scourge from destroying their tribe.   I could go on like this for a really, really long time, but I think you get the point.  For a people so ancient, with so much history, and so much potential for their culture, they deserve better than to be slowly and efficiently erased from existence.  But, that’s what’s been happening over the course of WoW’s history.  Just look at the Darkspear.  They have gotten so little development that we don’t even know who’s leading them right now.  We don’t even have very many of them left to be candidates for the role.  The elephant in the room, of course, is the incredibly disappointing end to Vol’jin’s character arc by unceremoniously killing him off by a random demon in the opening act of Legion.  There are so few notable Darkspear characters that Blizzard invented a new one, just so the Alliance could kill him during the Battle of Lordaeron.  They have already killed off so many of the Tribe that they had to invent one...to also kill off.  This, in a game that felt the need to add two more “races” of playable elves in a game that already has two.  And a new class that’s only playable by elves.  I have never understood this direction. With all of this on my mind, I hope you can see where I’m coming from when I say I’d like to see something other than “kill the Trolls” in a quest.  But, let me shift gears here, and maybe be a little more optimistic for a while.   I’m thrilled that the Zandalari are being added as an allied race for the Horde, and I’m excited that we’re going to get to explore and experience Zandalar.  I do think it’s unfortunate that these things are being added to the game now, because the faction war is really putting me off.  More specifically, the direction of the Horde, and Sylvanas leading it, is really dampening my enthusiasm and I’ve been really struggling to get past that.  It’s going to be really depressing if their methods for getting the Zandalari to join the Horde will be to make them suffer so incredibly that they have no choice but to ally with them.  But hey, I said this was supposed to be optimistic now, so let’s get to that.   In the novel Shadows of the Horde, Vol’jin mentions that King Rastakhan has a plan to unite all of the Trolls once more.  This plan is only hinted at, but it’s described well enough that it is clear that whatever this plan may be, it is different from that of the Prophet Zul.  Vol’jin denied Zul’s offer of joining with him (along with the Drakkari, Farraki, and Gurubashi), and the events of BfA fully reveal what Zul’s plan ultimately entails.  (Hint:  It’s not good.)  King Rastakhan’s plan appears to be different from this, and doesn’t seem to involve any of the shady shit that Zul’s been up to over the last several years.   In that same novel, while Vol’jin is conversing with the spirit of his father Sen’jin, the elder Darkspear seems to indicate that perhaps it is time that a Shadow Hunter once again leads the Trolls, like it was before the formation of the first Empire of Zul.   Fast-forwarding ahead to BfA itself, there is an area in Zuldazar that is sort of a Troll embassy.  It’s a place where a representative from the different Troll tribes meet, each tribe represented by speakers.  The Amani, Farraki, and Gurubashi, being the largest of these tribes, have their own specific areas.  The other, smaller tribes all hang out together.  The existence of this area might just be for flavor, but I like to believe it has some other purpose.  It could be there to give further merit that King Rastakhan is working on a plan to unite the tribes once more.   In addition to this, there is a Zandalari NPC in Zuldazar who offers to give you a glimpse of your future, in a way.  One of the possible things that she tells you mentions the unification of the Troll tribes.  

Again, it could be here for flavor.  But, why?  I’d like to think this is another hint that Rastakhan has some sort of plan for the Trolls, and that we, the player, could be a part of it.  And since this is seen during the Horde leveling experience only, it means it’s the HORDE player that could be a part of it.  The optimist in me hopes this is foreshadowing an eventuality where many, if not all, of the Troll Tribes join the Horde.   Naturally, there are a thousand holes that can be poked into this.  But like the Trolls I love so much, all of this wishing and hoping is a result of desperation, because we’ve been given so very little in regards to the Trolls for years now.  Blizzard just can’t seem to help themselves when it comes to making Trolls suffer.  It doesn’t stop in BfA.  Nazmir is an entire zone dedicated to killing Trolls (Blood Trolls), and there is no option or hope of saving them.  The Zandalari, in turn, are made to suffer through the murder of several of their most revered Loa by both the Blood Trolls and Zul’s fanatics.  It’s questionable whether King Rastakhan will even survive the expansion.   These thoughts, this negativity that I have has been plaguing me for a very long time.  It started in full with Vol’jin’s death.  I don’t mind admitting that watching that happen made me cry, if that’ll better articulate how strongly I feel about this race of misfits.  I’ve felt a pang of sadness and regret every time I’ve watched Blizzard unceremoniously kill off a Troll character before they could be fully developed or their character arcs brought to a meaningful conclusion.  Zuni.  Torunscar.  Zul’jin.  Vol’jin.  Durja.  Zin’Jun.  Not to mention the countless “cannon fodder” NPCs.  The voice line of a dying Troll on the Broken Shore yelling “Da pain!” still fucking haunts me.  Blizzard’s portrayal of Trolls is heartbreaking.   As you can probably tell, I care a bit too much about this.  Trust me, I recognize that.  I’ve been dealing with this in a number of different ways, not least of which is continuously reminding myself that WoW isn’t for me.  It’s for a huge audience of different people with different interests and different passions, and it’s unfair of me to expect my own desires to be fulfilled.  At the end of the day, my point here is that I see incredible potential for amazing stories and it frustrates me that I seem to be in the minority about that.  Games are an amazing medium and they offer this unique ability to make the player feel like a hero.  That feeling is the main reason why I play games in the first place.  The real world is complicated, ugly, confusing, and it’s not always clear which choice is the right one.  In games, it can be different.  You can see the wrong and you can stand up against it or help to fix it.  I’m finding that more and more difficult to experience in WoW because I’m playing a race that I feel its creators care very little about.   In an attempt to wrap this up, because I’ve been at this for way too long already, I want to see what Blizzard has in store for the Zandalari.  Their portrayal will likely decide if I still stay invested in WoW to any degree, or if I finally leave it behind for good.  None of the characters I have exist canonically in WoW’s story any longer.  Why the hell would I put them through that?  But, I still enjoy the gameplay and getting inspiration for my own stories from Blizzard’s creativity.  This is their game and their story to do with as they please.  I’m just hoping they recognize the potential that they have with the Trolls and start utilizing them for something better than they currently are.  Thank you for reading.  

[wigglywormy]

fair victory [bakugou/deku, 1.7k]

ahhhh i know i haven’t psoted anything in 10 thousand years, for which im sorry lol, but anyways! this is my squealing santa fic for @heartsywritesthethings !!!

their bnha prompt was ‘bakugou getting wrecked by another classmate’, and since i haven’t written any bakudeku for this blog yet, i went with deku as the ler 8)

merry christmas! i hope to open up prompts again soon so i can start posting more consistently on this blog again xoxo

--

Bakugou admits that UA has a really damn nice gym, and he intends to get a good use out of it before he graduates in the next few months. As a third year, he doesn’t have as much time to train and exercise like he used to, because his current internship and all of his finals before graduation really keep him occupied.

He finds that working out at night tends to be the only time he gets to utilize the gym, so it becomes a sort of routine for him. Wake up, go to class for half a day, take a bus over to the city to patrol and help Best Jeanist with paperwork (and occasionally - more often than not, now that he’s a third year - go on investigations and actually partake in beating the shit out of some local villains), then he comes back to the dorms, has dinner, maybe hangs out begrudgingly with his friends for a bit, then treks down to the gym below the first floor of the dorms for an intense work out.

It’s an exhausting schedule, but he doesn’t mind it too much.

What he isn’t expecting is for Deku to weasel his way into his routine, almost like he belongs there.

Their patrol routes cross streets, and after the first couple times of nodding amicably, that start actually chatting (because Bakugou’s fucking eighteen now, he has no reason to be a petty bitch to Deku anymore. Some might even say they’re friends now, though Bakugou still cringes at that word.)

Then, Deku starts hanging out with him when Uraraka or Iida were busy. And eventually, he starts following Bakugou to the gym for his nightly workout.

“I’ll spot you!” Deku says as he bounds after Bakugou, gym bag slung over his shoulder. “And then you can spot me? It’s unsafe to lift weights alone, y’know.”

“I haven’t hurt myself yet,” Bakugou grumbles, but holds open the door so Deku and his over sized gym bag can clamber in.

“Yeah, yet,” Deku rolls his eyes, and damn, the kid’s gotten fucking sassy after their second year. Bakugou’s reasonably impressed, to be frank. He blames it on all the time he hangs out with fucking Todoroki.

“Watch your mouth, you shit,” Bakugou snorts, arching his back and doing a few warm up stretches.

“Or what?” Deku shoots back, tossing his bag onto the floor and pulling an arm across his chest as he follows suit in stretching.

“I’ll kick your ass, that’s what,” Bakugou narrows his eyes, and when his gaze locks with Deku’s, he doesn’t spot any fear, not like there used to be. Now he merely sees an inviting glint of… excitement? Of a fucking challenge?

“Bet I could kick your ass now, Kacchan,” Deku says breezily, and he not-so-subtly flexes a bicep. Bakugou’s eyes zap to the defined muscle, and he desperately tries to ignore the way his stomach tightens up at the site. The fuckin’ nerd is right - he has gotten buff as hell the past three years. It’s impressive, and sickeningly attractive, and all sorts of other things that Bakugou does not want to address now, or any time in the future thank you very fucking much.

“Wanna eat those words, you fuck?” Bakugou hisses as a distraction to himself, mostly.

“Alright,” Deku rolls his eyes, walking to the center of the gym area where a large padded mat is laid on the ground. He gets into a fighting stance, and he smiles at Bakugou. “Wanna spar?”

“Do you actually have a deathwish?”

“No quirks,” Deku says, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Fuck,” Bakugou sighs, because he knows this new-and-improved Deku will just provoke him further if he says no. And yeah, sure, the excuse to kick someone’s ass always gets his blood boiling, but being in such close proximity as Deku - after realizing some things last year - isn’t exactly what he wants to do right now.

He sucks it up though, because refusal will cause even more questions than answers, so he sheds his shirt, leaving his tank on, and cracks his neck as he charges without a countdown. What? Deku’s the fucking one who started this, he doesn’t deserve a warning.

Unfortunately, Deku seems to have predicted this, and he quickly grabs one of Bakugou’s forearms and wrenches him forward, attempting to unbalance him with raw force.

Bakugou growls, because these are all moves that he knows for a fact Deku has learned from watching him fight. He manages to get a good shove in, his palm flat against Deku’s broad chest, but the next thing he knows, Deku’s on the ground, sliding behind him and elbowing the back of his knees until he buckles and falls.

“That was a dirty fuckin’ move,” Bakugou manages, impressed, as he rolls away, but Deku grabs his ankle and tugs him back, getting him face down on the mat with his wrists pinned against his lower back behind him.

“Shit,” Bakugou hisses, thrashing and trying to dislodge Deku, who’s now straddling him as he uses his weight to pin Bakugou down. “Get - off.”

“Do you surrender?” Deku says, and Bakugou can hear the smug grin in his voice.

“Fuck no.”

“Kacchan, c’mon,” Deku laughs, tightening his hold on Bakugou’s wrists. He leans down a bit, and Bakugou turns his head so his cheek is squished against the mat, his legs kicking behind him as he tries to escape. “Just give up.”

His palms crackle, and Deku tsk’s. “No quirks, remember? Just admit defeat, and then I’ll let you go!”

Bakugou feels his cheeks burn, trying to ignore the heavy weight of Deku on top of him, holding him down, his strong, scarred hands squeezing bruises into his wrists. He doesn’t respond, opting instead to growl and buck like a wild animal because the rest of his body is heating up now too and this is not good.

He hears Deku sigh, a quiet murmur of, “you asked for this,” before Bakugou feels determined fingers pressing into his ribs, right over his tank top.

Bakugou jerks as if he’s been electrocuted, a strangled noise escaping his lips, and his eyes widen when Deku starts tickling him.

Simultaneously, having Deku’s hands on him is something he’s fantasized about for months now, but not like this, holy shit. Bakugou’s biting his lip so hard it nearly bleeds, and he’s already pinned down, already practically defeated, he’s not going to give Deku the satisfaction of -

Deku slips his hand underneath Bakugou’s tank, fluttering his nails up until he can scratch right below Bakugou’s ribs, and Bakugou shrieks.

“F-Fuckin’ Deku, you sh-shihihit, get the fuck off!”

“You’re still super ticklish, huh?” Deku giggles - giggles at him, like this is funny, that fucker - before drilling his thumb into Bakugou’s ribs, causing the blonde to choke on a laugh, kicking his legs and panting.

“I’m not!”

“You aren’t?” Deku says, the teasy little fuck. “Are you sure?”

He releases Bakugou’s arms, but before Bakugou has half a mind to flip himself over and roll away, Deku grabs his wrists and pins them above his head, stretching Bakugou out taut. He slips his free hand underneath Bakugou’s tank again, this time tickling up his spine until he can scratch his nails along his shoulder blades, and Bakugou hates himself for how hard he giggles, shoving his face into his arm to try and muffle himself.

“Aww, Kacchan,” Deku coos, leaning down so his breath fans across Bakugou’s nape. “Do you give up?”

“F-Fuck you - ah - aha shit!” Bakugou gasps when Deku tickles under his arm, fingers deft and sure as Bakugou writhes underneath him. “Get off!”

Finally, Deku fully releases Bakugou’s wrists in order to bring both hands down to attack Bakugou’s waist, fingers slipping underneath him for a brief moment to pinch his hips and prod into his stomach. Unfortunately for Bakugou, he’s already pretty worn out, and steadily getting even more exhausted because every time he tries not to laugh, Deku just tickles him harder until he’s forced to wheeze out these pathetic giggles that Deku keeps cooing at god fucking damnit.

“Kacchan, you’re so cute,” Deku laughs, and when Bakugou manages to roll onto his side, Deku claws at his belly until Bakugou snorts.

Cute, Bakugou thinks deliriously, his body tingling and warm as Deku tortures him. What the fuck -

“Stop!” Bakugou laughs, rolling onto his back and pushing weakly at Deku’s chest. “Fuck - st-stop, Deku you piece of shihihit!”

“That doesn’t sound like a surrender,” Deku whispers, reaching a hand up to scratch under Bakugou’s neck. His hands seem to be darting everywhere, and Bakugou’s brain feels fuzzy, desperate for some sort of mercy but too prideful to speak it. Besides, though the tickling is fucking awful, Deku’s so warm on top of him, and his hands are like honey against his sweaty skin.

Once Deku wedges both of his hands underneath Bakugou’s arms though, Bakugou arches his back so hard it pops, his head thrown back against the mat, and god, he can’t - he can’t take it anymore, fuck.

“Deku - Deku, I’m - ” Bakugou squeezes his eyes shut, giggling wildly. “I’m gonna f-fucking d-die - ”

“You’re so dramatic,” Dekiu laughs, “you’re not gonna die, I promise.”

“Yes I fuckin’ am,” Bakugou wheezes, finally peeking open his eyes, damp with tears as he sees the fond, endeared look on Deku’s face as the sadistic fuck keeps fucking tickling him. “Fine - shit, f-fine, okay, stop, you win, you fu-fuhuhcking win, get off - !”

“Wow,” Deku says, slowing his touches but not stopping completely. He trails his hands down, tracing over Bakugou’s protruding ribs gently until Bakugou squeaks breathlessly. “It only took you nearly passing out to finally admit you lost. So stubborn, Kacchan.”

He sounds… incredibly happy about this fact, and Bakugou finds himself flushing deeper, panting as he catches his breath. Deku’s still on top of him, and Bakugou trembles when those scarred hands trail over his waist. It’s electric and terrifying, how much Bakugou doesn’t really want him to stop.

Fucking…. Shit. Stupid fucking feelings.

“So,” Deku says after letting Bakugou calm down, though his hands are still touching him, almost absentmindedly. “Wanna go again?”

“I’m gonna murder you,” Bakugou wheezes pathetically, but there’s a grin on his face, and when Deku smiles back, Bakugou knows that he’s officially completely fucking whipped. Any other person, and he would’ve blown their hands off for pulling a stunt like this, but Deku just looks at him so earnestly, and Bakugou begrudgingly admits to himself that maybe… maybe it wasn’t all that torturous.

Though, next time, Bakugou’s not above a little bit (or a lot) of revenge. He guarantees that Deku is just as ticklish as he was when they were kids, and Bakugou intends to find out very soon just how true that fact is.

[fandom-blerd-life]

Black Lightning 1.13: A Family Affair

“Whose life is this?” “Mine.” “What are you going to do with it?” “Live it. By any means necessary.”

There are so many important themes that have run through Black Lightning’s freshman season: family, pride, power, revenge, fear. But there’s one that has been present in just about every episode and has resonated with me especially: control. In a previous recap, I referenced Ta-nehisi Coates’ book, Between the World and Me, in which he spends quite a bit of time talking about the control exerted over Black bodies. He says, “the question of how one should live within a black body… is the question of life.”

In the pilot, Jefferson Pierce introduces us to the above mantra during a school assembly. He wants his students to remember that their life belongs to them and it’s up to each and every one of them to live it. The only people who can control their lives are themselves. When Anissa first gets her powers, the first thing she needs to learn is how to control them. She is so ready to help the community of Freeland that she forgets she can’t just go around beating up every person who looks at her sideways (or who wears a Confederate flag on their shirt). On the flip side, Jennifer wishes she was more in control of what is happening to her. She feels helpless and scared that because she was not given a choice in receiving powers, she no longer has control over her literal body. And then there’s Martin Proctor. The finale gave us a slightly heavy-handed portrayal of a white villain with dialogue including, “I want to make America great again!” The thing that makes Proctor so terrifying is that he is real. He represents a very real subsection of the population who feels they can do whatever they want to Black bodies because to them, we are disposable. The entire purpose of the Freeland Experiments run by the ASA, was to render a predominantly Black community docile. DOCILE.

These writers could have put this show within the DCTV universe, but they didn’t. They could have given us your run of the mill (yet still entertaining) Big Bad of the week, but they didn’t. They chose to show us what would happen if you took a familiar community, a real community, and you gave them hope in the form of a superhero who not only looks like them, but who also knows their struggle. Not a city affected by a particle accelerator explosion where random people became meta-humans. A community that the government purposely chose for an experiment because of its demographics.

I am so grateful to the writers and creators of Black Lightning for so many reasons. For giving us the first bulletproof Black lesbian superhero, for depicting Black family life in a way that too often goes unseen, but most of all for portraying the complicated experience of Black people in this country in a way that felt both uncomfortable and authentic. I’m so glad we’re getting another season to go even deeper into these themes and I hope more and more people have the opportunity to be exposed to this important show.

::hops off soapbox::

::cracks knuckles::

Okay! Now let’s get into this finale! We open with the first of many flashbacks to see a young Jefferson walking with his father Alvin. Because of unrest in Freeland, there’s no school, so Jeff is going to work with his father. A penchant for inspirational quotes apparently runs in the family because Alvin quotes Malcolm X to his son. The two are soon interrupted by a younger Gambi who is not pleased at Alvin for naming names in the ASA exposé. After Alvin’s death, Gambi watches out for Jefferson. We hear reports of more riots in Freeland and a shooting of an unarmed Black man. Jefferson is running through the streets trying to escape two officers when his eyes light up and he shoots lightning at both of them. The blue lightning against the black & white flashback is incredibly striking. Back to present day and Jefferson’s vitals are all over the place.  

Outside the new safe cabin, Jennifer and Gambi have a really sweet conversation about the situation they’ve found themselves in. Gambi explains to Jenn that Tobias, Khalil, and Syonide are different from meta-humans because their powers are artificial. We also learn that Tobias found Syonide in a dumpster when she was a baby and then trained her to be an assassin, so I have affectionately dubbed her… Dumpster Assassin™. Jennifer is having a rough time because she wants to believe Khalil is still the same guy she knew, but Gambi reminds her that he’s just not. They turned her boyfriend into a weapon.

Also...Khalil is now called Painkiller. Cool.

Cut to ASA headquarters where Proctor is holding court, spewing racist nonsense about the commonness of Black drug dealers, and mimicking that guy who’s currently running our country. It’s gross and it’s terrifying, but the main plot takeaway here is that the subjects from phase 1 of the experiments are failing and there are only 4 stage 2 subjects.

In Anissa’s words, she, Gambi, and Jennifer are literally walking down memory lane as Gambi tells the girls the story of how their father became Black Lightning. You see, it took 15 years for his powers to fully develop, but that isn’t when he decided to suit up. He chose to become Black Lightning when he saw Freeland was losing hope. Anissa thinks that’s sweet and all, but she’s tired of storytime. She wants to get out there and fight. Gambi reminds her that she is the strongest of all of them, and they’re going to need her to get through this. Preach, Gambi!

Listen. I can’t believe Tobias called out Lala’s velour tracksuits before I did, but holy Juicy, I haven’t stopped laughing about that line. Anyway, Tobias throws Lala across the room when Lala starts to run at him, and then utters the same phrase from last week, “the devil deals the cards.” Even Tobias agrees that it’s corny, but it gets the job done. It turns out, the reanimation process that Tobias spearheaded to bring Lala back has a side effect of everyone that Lala killed coming back to haunt him. Not only will they haunt him, but they will manifest as tattoos on Lala’s body, which has earned him the nickname of Tattoo Man.

It’s flashback time again, but this time, young Jefferson has been suspended for fighting. Alvin reminds his son that “education is the power they can’t take from you.” And in true Black Parent Who Is Serious About Their Child’s Education form, instructs Jeff to read the Constitution and be ready for a quiz because he’ll be damned if he spends this suspension in front of the television.

Jeff’s nervous system starts to shut down and the family fears they’re going to lose him.

Meanwhile, we go to what seems like another flashback, but instead it’s Present Day Jefferson, walking down the stairs of his childhood home (while “Stairway to Heaven” by the O’Jays plays) and looking like he’s just seen a ghost. Well that’s because he has, and it’s his dead father. Jefferson tearfully apologizes to his father for doing nothing when Tobias came to the house to murder him. He apologizes for Black Lightning and for the violence that has come from his decision. Alvin reminds his son that peace isn’t always peaceful (ain’t that the truth?!) and only Jefferson will know if it will all be worth it. It’s not Jeff’s time to go yet, and Alvin sends him back to handle his business. Back in the cabin, Jefferson opens his eyes, greets his family, and then discovers that his powers are gone. Alvin Pierce has been a driving force throughout this season even though we’ve only seen him a few times. Jefferson was so close to his father and everything he has done has been in his name. This scene was so powerful and so emotional because we got to see Jefferson tell his father the things he wished he could while he was alive.

Back at Bigotry Headquarters, Proctor’s team has discovered the safe house and are preparing to attack. Tobias, Syonide, and Painkiller also get ready to fight, after learning that Lala quite literally exploded after talking with Proctor.

Team Pierce readies themselves for the impending attack. The tactical teams are coming at them from all sides, but Gambi has a plan. Jeff suits up and asks Gambi to light up his suit even though he doesn’t have powers. Jennifer starts to freak out, she lights up, and runs to her father. She really is a generator because the energy she exerts is enough to fully charge Black Lightning and bring back his powers. Gambi makes a last ditch plea to the family to run, but that’s not what they’re about. They’re tired of running, they’re tired of hiding, and they’re tired of being controlled. They’re ready.

It’s fight time! The fight is set to “Shining Star” by Earth, Wind, and Fire because of course it is. I won’t bore you with my emotional connection to this song, but suffice it to say, I had Feelings™. Aside from the fact that these scenes were v dark and made screencapping v difficult, they were perfect. We cut from team to team to team as they fought their respective targets. Proctor’s tactical team wasn’t prepared for Black Lightning and LOL practically begged to leave the scene. They manage to contain Thunder, but that doesn’t last long because Black Lightning comes to her rescue. Even Lynn gets in on the action by taking out two guys in the cabin. Proctor eventually aborts the mission and orders his people to move the stage 2 pods.

When Proctor shows up to the new pod location, the Pierce family is waiting for him. For some reason, Proctor thinks overt racism is the way to get what he wants and tries to justify the Freeland experiments. Jennifer has had it and she uses her powers to lay him out. Proctor tries to make a deal, but Gambi shoots him dead! Okay Gambi, I’ll forgive you for your lying...this time. Anissa aks the tech how they can get the kids out of the pods, and he informs her that he needs the briefcase.

What briefcase? Oh just the briefcase we see Tobias opening (using dead Proctor’s thumbs) at the close of the episode. What does this mean for season 2??

Just before the scene with Tobias, we get a wonderful callback with Jefferson and his daughters on a run, and voiceovers from both girls. “They call us heroes, but the real heroes are you. The people who, despite the everyday struggles of life, continue to find hope, meaning, and purpose in what can be a challenging world.” “We’ve been given a gift. A blessing from God. We intend to use it to protect this city and its people.”

The season started and ended with a message of hope. A message that we can use every single day as we navigate this challenging world. A reminder that if you have hope, you can make it through.

I have gotten so much joy from writing about this show, and I hope you’ve had as much fun watching as I have.

What are your hopes for season 2? I’d love to hear them all. Find me at @njnic23 on Twitter, and look out for a rewatch during the hiatus. Thank you so much for reading these. Get lit!

[themusicenthusiast]

Album Review: ‘The Peace and The Panic’ by Neck Deep

The ebb and flow of various styles of music is a fascinating and curious thing. Pop punk for example, a genre that was brought into the mainstream and made commercially successful over twenty years ago, ultimately peaking with an abundance of such bands in the early 2000s, ushering in a resurgence of sorts. The genre is largely still championed by bands from those era, be it Green Day or blink-182 or New Found Glory or Good Charlotte. There’s a host of others out there too, still kicking all of these years later and arguably better than ever before. But for the most part, there has been few new and noteworthy happenings in that world as indie, rock, pop and such genres came back into favor. Of course, there are a few exceptions to that, and Neck Deep is certainly one of them. From starting off as a project that was mainly just for kicks to evolving into a fully fleshed out band ready for live shows, they have subsequently taken the world by storm (or at least a good portion of it). The UK-based outfit has won over crowds all over the globe during their relentless touring, supporting highly respected names and doing their own headline runs. And the successes should only keep piling up, the quintet’s latest effort, the recently released The Peace and The Panic (out via Hopeless Records) standing poised to be one of the most solid releases in pop punk. Period. The near dozen songs have been thoughtfully curated, evoking a pure and classic pop punk sound but one infused with modern touches as a way to fit with the here and now. In addition to that, this collection of songs represent a new era for Neck Deep, the music sounding more mature in regards to the stories told, demonstrating just how much they have grown over the last few years, pushing themselves to new heights.

That’s seen right off the bat with the lead song “Motion Sickness”, which begins a sort of theme that is revisited a few times throughout the record: one that focuses on the passing of Ben Barlow’s father and how that loss has affected the frontman. Musically it’s as upbeat and chipper as possible, packing an explosive punch that demands the listener succumb and let it take hold. One can easily imagine being at a show and the friendly moshing that is likely to ensue, the charged guitars and pronounced, rapid-fire percussion, together mounting an all-out assault that is irresistible. The story it delves into is extremely sentimental, though, Barlow detailing working to come to grips with that loss and some of the greater meanings of life as he searches for some sort of solace. Lines such as “…But then I find myself in bed, lost inside my head again. Running over everything…” recount the times spent trying to reckon everything. Optimism is teeming from the catchy music bed, though the only place it’s reflected in terms of the story is the chorus, which offers a much-needed jolt of joy to the track, as it focuses on words of encouragement to never stop pursuing your dreams, because you never know how close you might be to attaining them. While far from qualifying as depressing (reflective would be a better way to describe that first song), the album doesn’t get hung-up on such heavy subject matter. Nevertheless, “Happy Judgement Day” is not one to take lightly, the lead single released in advance of the album standing as a definite highlight from it. Political to an extent, it doesn’t get too specific in regards to what is wrong with the world and who is responsible for it. Then again, perhaps everyone is culpable to a degree, at least through the eyes of this track; the number capturing a sense of disbelief in how close humanity may actually be to the end with all of the unrest and turmoil currently happening in the world. More than that, it also focuses on what people could do to fight it, not so subtly hinting at how obsessed people have become with social media and celebrities among other issues, as the group stresses people wake up to what’s truly going on around them. “Happy Judgement Day” epitomizes pop punk, capturing that rebellious spirit as it urges a change; the riffs being sharp and action-packed, the song as a whole extremely dynamic. While that single fails to be assertive in regards to action against the system, “Don’t Wait” does not. It stands as a legitimate political anthem while also acting as the heaviest cut from TPATP. There’s more of a hardcore branding to it, and not just due to the fact that they enlisted the help of Sam Carter from Architects on the bridge and final chorus. Dani Washington’s drumming even feels more robust, a little extra kick drum added to the mix, Fil Thorpe-Evans rounding that out with some heavy bass lines that saturate the song with a thickness typically not heard on Neck Deep’s material. It may not be for them all the time, though they make it sound incredible. It’s in their wheelhouse and it’s refreshing in a way. Stopping short of advocating for anarchy, “Don’t Wait” does highlight the importance of questioning one’s government and any and all news people consume, illustrating how those in control use divisive techniques to keep citizens from realizing who the real enemy is. It’s all too relevant to the current state of the world; Neck Deep deserving some serious kudos for using their platform to address something so serious. Loss continues to permeate the album, the band also pushing themselves sonically with “Wish You Were Here”, which acts as the lull on The Peace and The Panic. The entirely acoustic song coupled with the sincerity of the lyrics ensures it winds up being the most heartfelt offering on the album, one brimming with sorrow. A sorrow that borders on being forlorn as it focuses on losing anyone – a dear friend or even a family member – and reminiscing of all the great times had and all the memories that should still be being made, taking little comfort in words designed to make one feel better. It is a song about what was and what could have been, if only things had been different and life had stretched out further for a certain person. “Wish You Were Here” may be the most chill song on the album, though it could be argued it is also the best track from it. It’s genuine in a way few songs are, the somber tones and raw emotions piercing through, striking a nerve with the listener. It’s difficult to not feel a connection with it, many people surely being able to relate in their own way as Barlow sings about regret for all the memories that were never made, time running out much sooner than expected. The most remarkable thing about The Peace and The Panic is the way it all comes full circle. There are songs about relationships and, of course, some more politically and socially geared tracks peppered throughout, but as it nears the conclusion it revisits the passing of Barlow’s father, further demonstrating how that loss has shaped him as a person and a musician. “19 Seventy Sumthin’” is the albums biggest surprise hit, relying heavily on a bit of nostalgia as it captures a cheery vibe and tells a tale of a picturesque relationship. There’s something enchanted about it, the way it all unfolds being able to take primary credit for that feeling of magic; the story being that of how Barlow’s parents met, started their life together and began a family. While not infectious in a traditional way, it still manages that, right up until the shift, the abrupt jump from a gently plucked guitar to the full band ultimately jumping in. It represents the sudden crushing dose of reality that struck in the form of a heart attack, the rest of the song being about coping and leaning on one another as a family to handle what life threw at you. Beautifully penned, the music is integral to the way it conveys itself, all of it being intricately pieced together to create an exceptional song. Completing the journey is “Where Do We Go When We Go?”, which echoes back to a line from “Motion Sickness”, “…Sat on the kitchen floor all alone talking to a ghost about where we go when we go…” It operates from the perspective that no one knows for sure what comes after this life – nothing at all or a place of eternal riches. It doesn’t concern itself with trying to answer that either, more just trying to establish both perspectives are reasonable. Instead, it captures the, “rage, rage against the dying of the light,” mentality, accepting the fact that we are all here for a short time; and while life may be trying and full of suffering, it’s worth it to persevere. Persevere because you never know what lies ahead; the track boasting what may well be the most punk line of the entire record, “…I just wanna get one up on life before it kills me.” Packing a hefty dose of punk venom, “Where Do We Go When We Go?” also winds up being a fairly aggressive song, getting in-your-face and providing a solid end to a stellar album. The Peace and The Panic represents a watershed moment for Neck Deep and stands as their most significant piece of work to date. It sonically captures that youthful vim and vigor that defines pop punk, sounding brash and exhilarating, though the stories it tells are born from the most trying events in life. Absent of angst (somewhat), each offering instead comes from the eyes of an adult, one that has experienced the hardships of life and has been changed because of it. On the surface, a lot of these songs sound fun – and they are meant to be to an extent – but if you dig down just a bit you realize how weighty they all are. They illustrate how far Barlow, Thorpe-Evans, Washington, Matt West, and Sam Bowden have come not just as musicians but as people, not losing their edge or any of the attributes that make them, them, but learning to view events through a different lens and artfully turn them into songs for the world to enjoy. Songs that will appease the angsty teenager just as much as they will the twenty and thirty-somethings whose youth was shaped by this specific genre. At the very least The Peace and The Panic proves that Neck Deep is worthy of being a torchbearer of pop punk. A band who fills the shoes of their forefathers quite well and one that in time may well be instrumental in sparking another renaissance of pop punk music. Purchase The Peace and The Panic on: iTunes | Google Play | Amazon MP3 Visit Neck Deep’s websites: Official Website | Facebook | Twitter Current Shows: 2017 October 4--MANDELA HALL--Belfast, United Kingdom 5--Tivoli Theatre--Dublin, Ireland 7--O2 Academy--Newcastle Upon Tyne, United Kingdom 8--O2 Academy--Glasgow, United Kingdom 9--ROCK CITY--Nottingham, United Kingdom 11--Norwich Nick Rayns LCR UEA--Norwich, United Kingdom 12--Cardiff University Students Union--Cardiff, United Kingdom 13--O2 Academy Brixton--London, United Kingdom 14--O2 Apollo--Manchester, United Kingdom 16--AB Box Brussels, Belgium 17--Melkweg Max--Amsterdam, Netherlands 18--Petit Bain--Paris, France 19—Essigfabrik--Cologne, Germany 20—Knust--Hamburg, Germany 21—Pumpehuset--Copenhagen, Denmark 23—binuu--Berlin, Germany 24--Conne Island--Leipzig, Germany 25—Universum--Stuttgart, Germany 26--Backstage Halle--Munich, Germany 27—WUK--Vienna, Austria 29--Circolo Magnolia--Segrate Mi, Italy 30—Kindergarten--Bologna, Italy November 1--Razzmatazz 2--Barcelona, Spain 2--Sala Chango--Madrid, Spain 3--CONNEXION LIVE--Toulouse, France 2018 January 18--The Observatory--Santa Ana, CA 20--Marquee Theatre--Tempe, AZ 22--The Bomb Factory--Dallas, TX 23--Alamo City Music Hall--San Antonio, TX 24--Warehouse Live (Ballroom)--Houston, TX 26--Center Stage Theater--Atlanta, GA 27--The Orpheum--Tampa, FL 28--Plaza Live--Orlando, FL 30--The Norva--Norfolk, VA 31--Rams Head Live--Baltimore, MD February 1--Electric Factory--Philadelphia, PA 2--PlayStation Theater--New York, NY 3—Palladium--Worcester, MA 5—Anthology--Rochester, NY 6--Club Soda--Montréal, Canada 8--Phoenix Concert Theatre--Toronto, Canada 9--Majestic Theatre--Detroit, MI 10--The Agora Theatre--Cleveland, OH 12--Concord Music Hall--Chicago, IL 13--First Avenue--Minneapolis, MN 14--The Truman--Kansas City, MO 16--Ogden Theatre--Denver, CO 17--The Complex--Salt Lake City, UT 18--Knitting Factory Concert House--Boise, ID 20--MacEwan Hall--Calgary, Canada 21--Union Hall--Edmonton, Canada 23--Vogue Theatre--Vancouver, Canada 24--Showbox at the Market--Seattle, WA 25--Roseland Theater--Portland, OR 27--The Regency Ballroom--San Francisco, CA 28--The Fonda Theatre--Hollywood, CA

[quartings-main-blog]

SP Part 2

CIELA: I'd fight everyone in this bar just for a chance to spit in their drinks. I can handle anything this crazy world tosses at me, and you know I hate it more than anything when punks tell me something's too dangerous. SLEET: Okay, I'll tell you. But promise me not to spread this around to anyone else. Sleet looks around cautiously before leaning in close to Ciela and whispering the inaudible details of the job. CIELA: (muttering) Okay, so the fort's at 45.5 north, 65 west...it's got bi-gun Arbei turrets and...okay...armored guards...and it pays? ... ...500,000 WIDGETS?! HOLY-! Ciela's shouting alerts everyone in the saloon. The many armed and brutish patrons rise from their seats, slowly and menacingly approaching Ciela, Ventor and Sleet. As the patrons take out their various weapons such as guns, clubs and knives, Sleet readies her frost gun, a makeshift nozzle and trigger hooked up to the tanks on her back by a tube. In response, Ciela and Ventor take out their weapons and prepare for a fight. VENTOR: (To patrons) Oh! Hey, look, none of us want a fight here. Why don't we just sit down and talk things out instead, huh? Nope? Umm... (To Ciela and Sleet) Guys? Don't make any sudden movements. You don't wanna provoke- CIELA: (Harsh whispers) -They're not fricken lizards, Ventor! They wanna fight? They're gonna get a fight. 12. As several patrons charge the bounty hunters, Sleet closes her eyes in fear and pulls the trigger on her frost gun, freezing several enraged patrons in self-defense as it sprays them with liquid nitrogen. When Sleet opens her eyes again, the first thing she notices are the frozen patrons of the saloon, their ice-covered weapons just inches from her face. Sleet then looks around, and sees that while only some of the saloon's patrons have been frozen in that split second, more have been knocked out by Ciela and Ventor, as they lie pained on the floor unconscious, with various injuries. Ciela and Ventor holster their weapons, Ciela with a look of confidence and satisfaction on her face, and Ventor with a look of unease and fear. CIELA: So, Sleet? Your ride's probably not doin' so hot after that huge scrap you got into. Howsabout Vents and I fix it up as thanks for you givin' us that info? That sound alright? SLEET: Y-yeah, that sounds good. Ciela walks out of the saloon, grabbing her food, and tossing several coins onto the counter behind her, where a frightened Steemer hiding beneath it emerges to collect it. Nervously, Ventor and Sleet follow behind Ciela as they walk out the saloon. CIELA: Keep the change, Frankie. Just before Ciela exits Steemer's, she leans over to a table next to her and spits in a cup on it. EXT. TOWN OUTSKIRTS-DAY The area is a expanse of desert and dirt roads, with several bizarre makeshift vehicles, covered in rust, dirt, and dents, parked outside of it. Sleet's vehicle, resembling a cross between a snowmobile and an all-terrain vehicle with a cowcatcher strapped to its front, is now looking much better, as Ciela and Ventor have patched it up, leaving it looking shiny and new, much better than the other nearby vehicles. 13. Ciela and Ventor are currently departing on the Skylark, and as Sleet boards her vehicle, Ciela leans out the cockpit of the Skylark to say goodbye. SLEET: Thanks for all the help, guys! CIELA: You're welcome, Sleet! So we just gotta head south from here to get to that fortress? And we've gotta get some kid outta there and bring em' up north to get the cash? SLEET: Yup! Good luck, Ciela! Hope you and Ventor make it out alive! CIELA: Your hope ain't no match for my skill, Sleet! Say hi to Paul for me! SLEET: I will! INT. SKYLARK-DAY Ciela is busy piloting the Skylark, while Ventor is working on fixing up various guns, smaller vehicles, and the machines on the ship. Ventor swiftly moves between the various machines he's fixing  and building, constructing them using his tools with incredible speed and dexterity. VENTOR: Oh! I almost forgot to ask. How was your chat with your mom? Is she doing alright lately? CIELA: Eh, she's her usual self. Can't wait to meet up with her for dinner next week, yada yada yada. How's progress on those things goin'? VENTOR: Almost got it all done. Man, this is some heavy-duty firepower we're making. You sure we'll really need all of it? 14. CIELA: Hey, from what I've been told, we'll need all the firepower we can get, and I'm confident that with these new puppies added to our arsenal, those Arbei types'll be in for the fight of their lives. Man, this is gonna be such an awesome story to tell the others later! INT. PYOMA'S ROOM-DAY This shot is that of an ancient-looking book, with intricate artwork and illegible text. This book is being read aloud by an Arbei guard offscreen, MONA. MONA: -And not one of them survived the firey death that consumed them all. The end. MONA, A STOCKY AND DARK-SKINNED ARMORED WOMAN(30S) WITH SHORT HAIR, IS SHOWN TO BE READING THIS STORY TO PYOMA (TEENS), A GIRL WITH SHORT WAVY DARK HAIR AND TAN SKIN, WEARING A WHITE OPEN-BACK DRESS. The two are in a small, but extravagantly-decorated room, with its reinforced metal walls adorned with decorations made from precious metals and gems, and gold and purple/green banners with the Arbei Kingdom's insignia on them. PYOMA: Oh my goodness! Mona, why does war have to be so violent?? MONA: The world's a dangerous place, Miss Pyoma. If you're going to live in it someday, you'll have to toughen up. You're almost fifteen, it's time you should know that. PYOMA: Okay...And nobody else has ever dared challenge the Arbei kingdom since that great war a hundred years ago? 15. Mona closes the book she is reading to Pyoma, and it is revealed to be a book about ancient history/myths and legends. MONA: Correct Miss Pyoma, they have not.  And how could they? MONA: (Grumbles) especially with the world in its current state? PYOMA: "Current state"? Mona, do you mean-? MONA: -Nothing, Miss Pyoma! I was merely caught up in my thoughts. PYOMA: You know? If you and the other guards finally let me outside, I bet I'd be able to learn much more about the world! MONA: No. PYOMA: Why not? Isn't the world outside under the protection of the Arbei kingdom? Mona packs up her teaching materials and a gold-and green/purple rifle lain on a small, nearby table, and walks out the room, gesturing at Pyoma to follow her. Pyoma gathers up her books and papers, and quickly follows behind Mona, walking with poise and grace despite her rush. INT. FORTRESS CORRIDOR-DAY Pyoma and Mona exit the room, and walk down a corridor decorated similarly to Pyoma's room. Statues and paintings depicting prominent figures and moments in the history of the Arbei kingdom can be seen lining this hall, and most notably, there are paintings of glowing, angel-like figures in the hallway as well. 16. Along the corridor, there are also doorways leading to extremely large and spacious amenities, such as a library, guard training room, playroom, kitchen, and ballroom. MONA: Well, um, of course we are protecting the other kingdoms of this world to the best of our ability, but you are not allowed outside as of yet because you're not fully trained in the practice of being a proper lady as of yet. After all miss Pyoma, you have a very important role to play in the coming- PYOMA: (Excited) -Because I'm really special, aren't I? MONA: Oh, certainly! Mona tussles Pyoma's hair, and Pyoma LAUGHS in response. PYOMA: (hesitant) Oh...well, I suppose I understand that, then. Another of Pyoma's guards, SYMOS(40s), a tall, thin man with a short beard, dressed in the same armor worn by Mona, steps out a room ahead of them to interject. SYMOS: Yes you are, Miss Pyoma. And speaking of which, it is time for your weekly checkup. PYOMA: Thank you, Symos! PERAH: You're very welcome, Miss Pyoma! Pyoma obediently strides into the room, where Symos bows to her. Mona goes over to Symos to speak with him personally. MONA: (Whispering) Have the new catalysts been installed? 17. SYMOS: Yes. Let's hope we can finally get the machine to work this time. All these bounty hunter attacks recently are beginning to get extremely irritating. We only just cleaned out all the ice that got lodged in the pipes yesterday. MONA: Ugh, I can't stand those savages. Crawling out of the sands to attack the innocent, taking what isn't theirs...disgusting. SYMOS: So then, how's your week been? MONA: What? SYMOS: -Nothing! Forget I asked. Pyoma, is now sitting on a chair in the room, which looks like a laboratory, and a gigantic machine, with two glowing apparatus extended towards Pyoma's back, begins to activate. We see a shot of Pyoma's back through her open-back dress, and it is shown that Pyoma's back is covered in large, wing-shaped tattoos that begin to glow faintly in response to the machine. Meanwhile, Pyoma is calmly sitting on the chair, readin one of her books, paying no heed to the bizarre happenings currently occurring. SYMOS: Come on...come on... Just then, a large rumbling resonates throughout the fortress, and loud, blaring alarms go off, alongside bright flashing lights, interrupting the current procedures going on. INTERCOM: Attention! We are under attack! All guards report to your stations, and prepare for attack! MONA: Damn it! Can we just get through one of these without another bounty hunter attack?! 18. Mona points to several guards. MONA: You! Get Miss Pyoma to her room and make sure no-one gets in! Pyoma GROANS and gets up, annoyed, then follows the guards. PYOMA: Why don't these people ever give up? Haven't you guys told them we're not interested in letting them in? Mona grabs her weapon, and runs off to her post. INT. PYOMA'S ROOM-DAY Pyoma is hurried into her room and the door is slammed tightly shut behind her. She sighs, looking around her room, a melancholy expression on her face. EXT. PYOMA'S FORTRESS-DAY Outside the fortress in the sands, dozens of guards are pouring out of the fortress, some armed with spears, some armed with guns similar to Mona's, and some guards stationed at large gun turrets. Giant turrets mounted on the fortress take aim alongside these guards, all pointing towards the same spot-what appears to be a large dark grey metal armored sphere with a jet propelling it through the air, almost resembling a comically fat missile, slowly flying towards the fortress. Perah attempts to deter the missile by sending a warning, speaking through a megaphone-like device, as Mona stands nearby, impatiently. SYMOS: (Through megaphone) Attention sir or madam or small mammal who has hijacked this vehicle! Mona gives Symos a confused look. SYMOS: (To Mona) Given what has already attacked us, it wouldn't surprise me. (Through megaphone) You are entering a prohibited zone by order of the Arbei kingdom. If you not turn around now, we will be forced to- 19. MONA: -Fire!! All of the dozens of guards and turrets of the fortress immediately open fire on the missile, with the intense bursts of energy they fire only chipping the armored shell of it as it approaches closer and closer, unrelentingly. In the distance, in the exact opposite direction that the turrets and guards are facing and firing, hovers the Skylark, with its side door open, showing Ventor sitting on a cannon built inside it. Ventor fires several Epheme-charged cannonballs at the turrets, taking advantage of their distraction to destroy them. Some guards take notice of the turrets being destroyed, but it is too late, as by the time they catch on, the "missile" touches down, with a noticeably damaged armor shell, all the turrets have been destroyed. The "missile"'s armored shell breaks open just as the guards approach it, revealing that it contains a small, empty plane, made of brass and steel, with long, small fold-able wings, and a large back engine. Looking closer at the plane, the guards find it empty, except for a small handwritten note. Picking it up, the guards see it says "Sike! -Ciela <3". The guards turn around and see the Skylark flying immediately overhead, casting a massive shadow over all the guards. Ciela stands at the opening of the airship's side door, triumphantly, holding a shiny new Epheme rifle in her hands. VENTOR: Hey, Ciela! Stay safe. CIELA: (laughs) Quit tellin' me what ta' do! With all the guards still in shock, Ciela jumps from the airship onto the fortress, rifle in hand, and lands on its roof. The guards begin shooting at her, but Ciela has already escaped into the fortress, melting a hole through the roof with one shot from her rifle. 20. INT. FORTRESS 1ST FLOOR CORRIDOR-DAY Ciela lands in one of the fortress's many corridors, where she hears many more guards approaching from around the corner behind her. Ciela runs away down the corridor, placing a palm-sized hemispherical mine behind her, sticking it to an light/light-switch wall next to her. The large lightbulb on the mine blinks for several seconds, releasing a pulse of energy that quickly travels through the facility, draining electricity from all electrical devices in it. As all the lights in the fortress go out, the guards chasing Ciela are disoriented and stumble over each other. INT.FRONT OF PYOMA'S ROOM-DAY In front of Pyoma's room, the guards in charge of protecting her are fooling around, playing the "knife game", when the lights go out, and a shriek is heard. INT. FORTRESS 1ST FLOOR CORRIDOR-DAY Back in the darkened corridor, only illuminated by the light shining through the hole Ciela entered through, and the green glow from the Epheme in Ciela's rifle, the guards have regained their bearings. GUARD #1: Over there! Aim for the green lights! CIELA: Uh-oh. Ciela first cocks her rifle, and unleashes a barrage of glowing green Epheme bullets in the dark corridor,taking out several guards. The remaining guards begin chasing after Ciela and firing at her, as she panics, and holds her rifle far off to her side by outstretching her arm. to throw off the guards' aim while she runs. The mine Ciela placed earlier now flashes red, giving some form of visual indicator that it has reached its maximum capacity of absorbing energy.