#splatoon dlc drop tomorrow so i have no time

[doublekanble]

deer (after the car crashed)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic

word count: 4.7k

Or, a confession, (somewhat) note: not nesnecessarily connected, but IS written in the spirit of deer (iahl). someone said p2 where he confessed and i thought 'he would've never, he would do every romantic thing in the book and cry over your dead body but he will never ask you out. reader got hurt, non-descriptive as i am but a silly guy, very possibly wrong description of a little medical things.

The gramophone in the corner of your room play a tune that he himself isn’t exactly fond of, but didn’t exactly hate. It’s been your favorite ever since you spent more than a month of your wages to win an “online” bidding war for the limited release. As he hum along, he held onto your jaw, fingers sharp and all claws doing its best to not leave so much a scratch on your chin. Just as gently, he let the tip of a thermometer sits on your tongue, and close your mouth.

Finished, but not leaning back, he take a second to look at you, almost a sneer on his face at your state, he trust that by the time you wake up, you can still remember the faces of whoever it is that harmed you. Even if you can’t, he mused, he’ll help you. Hopefully you know how to recognize bones structure. He turn back to the book he left half-way through and pick up where he left off, a book you tried to read several times. Would you let him spoil the ending, he wonder. Reaching for his neat whiskey as he scanned the line printed on yellowed paper, he down it in one go.

(somewhat, Alastor let the thought fester, he also became a culprit. Having time after time parading you by his side, thinking that he can always shelter you)

 You’ve always been good at giving books recommendations, despite finishing only a handful of them. You’re also a delight to be around, much more than anyone in the hotel can ever afford to be. Always finding himself around you, adding seconds to minutes to hours, and then when he would check the time, you both would’ve already missed dinner, talking about nothing all the while.

(he would laugh, and you would chuckle, and he offers you meat, and you'd denied. You don’t feel like eating that day, you’d say. That’s how he started checking up on you, even though eating is nothing more than a passing hobby down here in Hell)

Needless to say, you’re his favorite, worming into his heart in such a short amount of time. It’s even much more redundant to even bother insinuating that he might do everything he can just to keep you safe. Having taken enough time to think about the unfamiliar emotions you stirred in his heart, he decided that it’s welcomed to stay for as long as he wants it to. As such, Alastor acquainted himself with the need to make sure you’ll never have to worry about a single missing strand of hair on your head. Always more of a caretaker, he finds it utterly adorable how your nonchalant demeanor always falters under his relentless care. Never the heart to deny it, but never fully accepting it either.

And it should’ve stayed that way, with you blubbering about and tripping over your own words while acting like nothing is wrong, and him hovering over you, grinning as he brush off whatever you gotten onto your clothes that day. But it couldn’t possibly stay that way when you’re lying on your bed wrapped up and unresponsive, unable to even give him an excuse as to why you stumbled back through the front door after what supposed to be a quick errand trip, scaring poor Charlie to death with ugly, gnarling gashes in the shape of long running lines down your arms and several red holes staining your shirt, one logged deeply in your left inner thigh. You would promptly pass out the moment she rush to your side and stays that way for three days and two horrible, grueling night.

He wasn’t even there, staying in his radio tower for the day. Assuming that you’ll come to him if you needed something, he let his shadows rest at the corner of his eyes. Only when Husk burst into the room -furs all frazzled and sweaty- that he knows. When he came down to you, you’re out like a light for at least three hours already, Angel sitting on your bed with two bullet in a red cup sitting at his side. His pink and white gloves stained red, it trembles as he drop yet another one into the cup, then slowly goes back to gently reaching in for another one.

“Can’t afford to work fast, been some months since I hafta pull anything out on my own. Heh.” He laughs to soothe himself, shuddering under his breath. Saying that, Angel makes it clear he doesn’t trust anyone else to do this. The sheets that Nifty changed for you already turning red, the one at the foot of the bed brown. The unfortunate downside to natural healing is that you tend to bleed for a long time until you're stable enough for your meat to reconnect.

(the bottom of his shoes would later step on that same brown, mixing another red into it. He was -and still is- torn open at the thought)

Alastor likes to play up the lie that he doesn’t understand fear or anxiety, pretend that he have never been at the feet of anyone else other than himself. And he would go through the duration of your relationship letting you see him as such. He’s someone you can rely on; someone you can trust with everything you have without the lingering fear that he’ll pull it from under you one day. But you always been individualistic to a degree, it was never a problem before.

(you dislike not knowing where to go and what to say, so you never do anything or say anything that might ruin the perception people have of you. You seems so close off like that, he said. You’re not, you insisted, you’d let anyone you love in as long as they ask)

Briefly, as he seated back onto the armchair now sitting right by your bedside, thermometer back in hand, he ponders about how he must’ve looked to the others when he first step into the room. You yourself are often entertained by the macabre sight of his much more unpleasant form, calling it endearing at times. But the others are much less appreciative of it. They don’t come in that often, anyway, only Nifty and Angel does. It’s not that they don’t care about you, it’s simply that he deemed them completely and utterly useless.

(he wonders when you woke up, will you let him back in, already knows how it'll play out)

Vaggie busied herself with taking care of Charlie, who can’t look at you without bursting into tears. Her weeping heart normally is entertaining to see in action, but an on-edge and scared Charlie is a messy Charlie, and she nearly pour hot water on you and Angel Dust - who hurriedly covered you up with his lanky frame. He appreciate the spider demon extended effort in keeping you safe, having only left to pick out a disc to put back into the gramophone himself.

Through gnashing teeth and a too-wide smile, Alastor asked Vaggie to keep check on her dear partner. And they haven’t been seen near your room since. Promised by Angel to come by and give updates whenever he can.

Nifty’s appearance would be much more erratic. At first, it’s to take away things that Angel stops using, cleaning it up and putting it back to its spot. Then after that, bringing with her tea and biscuits Pentious made and practically begged her to bring to you that would, in turn, sit on the bedside table until her next visit to change the sheets and duvet again. He can tell she’s a bit more bothered by the fact that you’re still bleeding onto the sheets than you being unconscious. She did ask him when you’ll be awake. He doesn’t know.

(he can’t fathom the idea of you pushing him away. but the taste of dirty copper stains the roof of his mouth for the days you wasted away on your bed)

And Angel, much more agitated than anyone else, much more competent than everyone else, grumbles about how hard it is to change your bandages with Alastor hovering over his shoulders. After the 3rd time, he figured the demon would never stop, so he let him keep watch.

Alastor would’ve done it himself, not trusting the spider (or anyone else for that matter) with touching you now that his part in clearing your wounds is done, if not for how his eyes lingers on your right hand, your dominant hand. The one with the tear in the web between your pointer and middle finger, running down by at least 3 centimeters, sewn shut with skills Alastor almost wishes he have. He hates that he fully understood why Angel would be staring down at you with such a miserable expression.

When you’re bleeding finally stable enough so that you don’t need the bandages change as much anymore, Angel would come by with a thermometer, placing it in his hand and asked him to keep check on you and change your bandages if needed while he himself went off to make up for the work he “missed out on”. His phone now finally back in his hand after the constant ringing in the 7th hour nearly cracked Alastor’s patient, left behind with Fat Nuggets.

(Husk would come by one time, on the fourth hour of your rest. Alastor would leave for one. When he came back, Angel doesn’t have the heart to questioned why he reeks, simply chiding him to try and go change)

Holding it in his hand and turning it over, he look at the readings and think you would’ve thanked God for your wounds not being infected, or at least enough to give you a fever. Angel did well. He thinks about how downright disgusting the wounds looked on you despite seeing so much worse in his time. It won’t scar you, but it’ll take more than a week for you to even hold a pen, let alone moving it without any pain. At least it’ll heal. He would’ve killed God if he could.

Returning to his (your) book, he felt a pit forming in his stomach, you’re easy to read, he’ll know what to do once you talk again. Alastor pretends he doesn’t feel fear, but it certainly is much more unpleasant when it’s about someone else. He expected you to wake up soon, if it’s not tomorrow, he doesn’t know how he can hold it back, taste of copper still stuck to his teeth.

--

It took you five days and five night for you to start opening up your eyes. Six and a half for you to rasped out a weak apology for making him worried, being hand-fed as much water and porridge as possible in between the short sentence before you immediately fell back onto your pillow and sleep for the rest of the day. Angel Dust who was there at the time slipped away to pass out the good news to the rest of the hotel residents.

Despite so, nobody enters the room more than once for rest of the night. In their stead, hand-made paper flowers and get-well-soon cards stays with you on your bedside table. He knows they’re making something else in the main lobby, and it’s absolutely hilarious to him that they think you’ll be able to walk anytime soon to see it yourself. One time, Pentious tail bump the garbage can on his way out, Alastor can feel his terrified gaze, but choosing not to pay the fool any mind. Your right hand in his left, he sit with a glass of whiskey on the rock instead, armchair now sitting next to your bed and facing the bundle of gifts.

(Husk would come in twice before the dawn came to give him two more drink and to give you a lousy card, clearly been made by Charlie in his stead. He waited for Alastor’s permission before placing it on top of the pile with all the others)

At early dawn, he held himself back as you stir awake. Your hand wrapped in his, giving him a squeeze so weak he barely able to feel it. but he felt it nonetheless, and in spite of his wearing sanity, he simply returns the gesture and lifted your hand up to his thinning grin.

“Good morning darling, you gave us quite the scare there. I hope you’re finally awake enough to know where you are?”

Still with that charming tone, but so much smaller and quiet in the room. He waited for your reaction to see how far off you are from consciousness, when the corner of your lip stretches just a bit, he smile with a bit more heart, but it still border on exhaustive. Turning the words sitting on his tongue, back and forth after the relief finally settled, he wonders if it's worth it.

Placing the half-finished whiskeys on your bedside table and accidentally draws your eyes to all of the get-well gift. Not too awake yet, you look back at him with a blank expression and his rotted heart jumps in his chest.

“Ah, those.” he heave a sigh, “They’re from the lots here. You’ve missed a group exercises or two dear.” He leans over you, mindful to not pull your arm with him. Even so, your eyes squinted just a bit, it breaks him more than he’d ever want to admit. “I’d suggest you get used to it though. It’ll be quite some time before you can leave the room.” Borderline on warning you, yet tone still playful, he watches as you breathe and turn your head towards the ceiling, eyes off him.

“…I figured…” You’re so pitiful like this ,he thought as he poured a cup of water for you with one hand, not minding the cards and flowers that fell off in the meantime, they can wait until he’s done with this.

You made a miserable attempt at sitting to take the cup on your own for all of a second before you drop back down with a quiet “oofm”, the bed barely creaks while you seethed and writhed, cursing under your breath, hand finally leaving his to set itself on the soft surface. It’s shaking, your entire body, that is. Briefly, you try to open your right hand, and you stop. Separately, he cursed you and your wretched independence.

“Hurt?”

“I'm surprised I'm still alive…”

“It’s no wonder,” Alastor carefully lifted your head up, bringing the cup to your lips and let you take slow sip as he starts, tone just a tad bit too grating, “you did come crawling back to the hotel with 5 bullet in your torso and more than a few scratches that our fellow spider friend almost can’t handle! Really! I’d be glad to still be breathing if I were you.”

His words almost too fast for someone who just woke up from a week-long coma to get and he knows. But Alastor have been sitting in an armchair that felt one size too small for him for seven days constantly going through your two records and 3 books and reliving the moment he sees you on your bed with your eyes closed shut like a corpse in a casket. So even as he lay your head down and put the cup away, gesture loving and gentle, he still can’t help but to sneer at you.

“It’s almost like you’re trying to die again. You know that if you really wanted to, I would’ve gladly assisted you with leaving this side of the living world. Or the dead! No need for scraping scraps off the road.” He tries to play it off as a joke, laughing a bit to himself. But he knows you know. At the sounds of your beloved song being drown out by his growing static, he tries to keep his composure still. “What was it that got you stumbling through the door like a kicked pup on the road, by the by? Did you got caught in the storm drain picking up daisies? A run-in with a past nemesis? Please, do feel free to share, dear. You were so eager to run off on your own with that little errand of yours without a word to me after all.”

It's something that he compels you to do early on when he started taking you out with him. Simply inform him when you planned to leave the hotel alone, especially if it was to some much fouler part of the Pride Ring. Let alone the trail of dried blood that Husk traced after was irritatingly far from the hotel. You didn’t just stumble into the hotel on your last leg, you dragged yourself back to him one coin from your death bed.

It's been seven days, and the taste of copper still lingers. Alastor is not a patient man, but he likes to think he tried his best to be, especially with you. But the more you stay silent without even facing him, the more he can feel his self-restraints pulling at the seams, so close to breaking.

“That’s not funny, Alastor.”

Without time to even mourn the façade he plays up for you that long since crumbled to dust, Alastor hovers over you, fingers digs and tears at the sheet. It’s a habit grown bad, the way he defaults to less-than-vague threatening gestures and mocking words the moment he feels too vulnerable, something you picked up on naturally and never bothered poking him with. But the more he lingers by your side, the more he’s aware that he simply cannot just do that to you, someone who can freely walk off from him. And with his growing need to keep you by his side, you would more likely be hurt by him than anyone else in all of Hell.

“It never was supposed to be, dear. Now, do I have to pry it out of you or do you want to tell me why?”

For seven days and six nights have he been thinking. If he learns to keep you somewhere no one else can see you, Alastor would’ve never found you on the stained bed with bullets decorating your innards.

(this anger should’ve never been directed towards you, but somewhere deep in his wretched, rotted heart, he thought that you should’ve stayed away in the first place, he begged that you yell at him so he can finally leave you alone)

And Alastor would’ve gone on, would’ve said something even more nasty to pull some kind of reaction out of you, but you, with your eyes looking out what part of the window that the curtain haven’t covered up and a voice so small he can hold in one hand. Almost like you’re sorry.

“They say it’s because I know you.”

And he let himself fall by the foot of your bed.

It’s a snicker at first, then a chuckle, then he start to laugh. And he keeps laughing as his claws pulls at the sheets and left marks just as ugly as it was on your arms. Claws as sharp as the one that have dug itself into you, now tearing lines into your duvet and sheets and bedding and open up scars. But your warmth grows apparent as your trembling fingers held onto his claws. And despairingly, he held onto you.

Even though he already know, even though he was frantically getting into your face and forcing you to confirmed what he learned by the middle of the fifth hour. Alastor still feel a horrible sense of defeat washes over him as he held tightly onto your right hand, the information’s utterly revolting, coming directly from you.

And even knowing that he’s hurting you, he still refuses to let go as your bandages slowly bleeds red. Promises to himself that if you let go, he will. And when your other hand reaches over, your breathing’s heavy, he prayed you’d pry his hands off yours. And when you didn’t. It takes everything he have to not lock you away forever and never letting you out.

“I don’t want to bother you so much. It wasn’t even supposed to be that far of a trip, but I panicked and didn't realized they were leading me from the hotel…” you paused, wanting to go on but wasn’t sure how to soothe him while the implication kills him. Just what sort of godly deeds did he ever do throughout his life and death to have you by his side? And just what sort of unearthly karma is placed upon you for you to be stuck by his?

You know this happened because of your ties to him, but there’s not a lick of anger from your end as you give him the time and privacy he barely granted you to collect himself. And as time pass on without a word from both side, you start to drift off, still beyond tired even after the long rest. But he can feel your hands still holding onto his. Oh, what a pair, you and him. An idiot that refuses to leave and a dog that can’t let go. The last song plays before he needs to reset the needle as he gather the strength to clear his throat and break the silence.

“I’m sorry dear, I-,” He rasped out, voice strained and unsteady, having laughed himself raw, it sounded as if he’s the one that just came back from the death. “I know you won’t be gone for long, but I simply just-“ neither the gun or bullets he held in his hand at that time are made with Angelic metals, they would beg and cry out to him. The bastards couldn’t have afforded enough to spare you any. But it doesn’t do well to quench the pain in his heart, neither would it let the wound on your body heal any faster.

He laugh a light and airy laugh, unable to tell you what you already know. “I must beg for your forgiveness mon cher. It seems I simply can’t handle the idea of being parted from you for too long anymore.”

(like mocking, beloved, but shouldn’t have never been his, you shouldn’t have gotten stuck with a rotting corpse of a deer chained to a tree, but he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, so you’re his)

“That was genuinely shitty of you.” Right to the point. Despite you letting him hanging onto you so desperately, despite holding onto him so kindly, you never bothered to mince your word, more than exasperated, almost like you’re scolding a child. “I know you said that because you’re upset too. But if you were anyone else, I would’ve actually just, kick you out.”

Dragging himself up, careful to keep your wounds from flaring up with any more pain than it already had, he sits right next to you, bringing himself closer to your face and placing your right hand into his lap, almost like croaking, the static in his voice comes in and out. “I know, dear. Whatever it is I can do to make amends. I will.” He will leave if you asked him to, if only Alastor is anything else but a selfish dog, he will never let you know.

“I don’t want you to fix anything, Al. Just-“ he relaxed his grip, hearing you called him like that again, in such a voice, something blooms inside him again, he mourned your fate. “try to not do that again, yeah? It feels like shit waking up after all of that and then getting yell at.”

Chuckling humorlessly, of course you would ask for something so simple. He lie down next to you, storing the little mundane sight of your much more relaxed face so close to his off into the back of his head. “Of course, my dear. I vowed with all of my heart, or- whatever’s left of it.” Something like this will never, ever happened again. Not as long as he’s still breathing. And you, too eager to place the unfortunate incident behind you, but too worn out to laugh along, you simply smiles and close your eyes, face flushes red.

“Whatever you say, fucking dork…”

“Oh, such ghastly insults! How will I ever survive?” he turns over and lie on his stomach, hand holding up his head while leaning over you, play with your unkempt hair like a maiden in love. “And right after I spent my days keeping over you! What a heartbreaker you truly are, darling. I wonder what dear old Charlie would say to such a foul mouth?”

Your mouth open for a bit, then screwed itself shut, words failed to form as you try to hold in a giggle at his antics. Despite your gramophone still playing the same set of songs since last week, his heart finally get to rest when the atmosphere in your room grows much brighter. For your sake, he let you find your footing while brushing bangs into your face. Your breathing is still heavy, tinged with pain and what else that will surely follow you for the next gruesome month, but at least you’re laughing.

And then, as if on loose tongue, you stop him dead in his track. “Why do you call me that?”

Alastor froze, the claws dancing on your forehead moved to held onto the side of it, nearly nicked you in the process. He forced you to face him.

“Do enlighten me darling. What do I call you?”

“Like that.”

He raised an eyebrow.

(you’re silly, but not clueless. He knows you’re smarter than this. But then again, he doesn’t know if you know he’s yours just yet)

“ Y’know… like-“ impossibly, affectionately, you’re much redder than he’d ever seen you, now stumbling over your words, “like…darling?”

“Yes, dear~?” without missing a beat, he replied.

“You b-! Argh…”

(he could get used to this)

You nearly sat up, then immediately quiet down and seethe at him through your teeth. He laugh in returns and pat your cheek affectionately. “You ought to be more careful dearest~! At this rate, you’ll be here for-“

“Stop that!” your roar, something akin to a small kit, voice barely able to stay steady enough to comprehend. “You know what I’m trying to say! I don’t get it!”

He smiles, hand going back to messing with your hair. “I do not get what you’re trying to implied,” baring his teeth while you gritted yours, “sweetheart~”

(a rotting piece of meat, sitting next to a flowerbed, what a sight you two made)

It’s endearing how hard you try to act upset, with your smiles barely differentiate from a grimace and eyes that refused to look at him. “They’re pet name, Al.” he lift your chin towards him, kicking his feet in the air. “It’s personal, isn’t it? You don’t call anyone else that either…” you’re finally starting to gawk the distance between you and everyone else from his eyes. Better late than never, as his mother always told him.

“Correct! You’re such a charming little thing, trust me, but it’s honestly rather demoralizing waiting for you to pick up on it dear! I thought it would’ve taken much quicker, let alone it took until you climbed out of Hades gate to realized.”

“Pick up on what??”

“What do you think?”

"...That you...see me as a pet???"

(he hope you won’t pick up on the smell)

He knows you enough to know you will never let yourself say it out loud until he does. But Alastor is nothing but a patient man. Grin stretching across his face, he pecks your forehead and lifted himself off the bed as you can do nothing else but to loudly protested him. He sings to you as he open the door, “I’ll be seeing you in a bit mon chéri, so do feel free to rest a bit more. We shouldn’t keep the others hanging over this good news!”

“I swear to GOD I will kill you with my bare hands Alastor!”

“Ooh how exciting! I’ll be waiting for that day then. If you can get out of bed by the next month that is!”

Your yelling cut off the moment he’s gone from sight, you’re surely processing it all now. What an exciting thought.

Alastor would’ve rather you two have this conversation under any other scenario, but really, you don’t get to be too picky. He prance off as midday approached, planning on showing you the bones he kept in a box on top of his fireplace later on.

(he hope you’ll learn to live with the contorting shadow that’ll be walking along with you from now on. He might be a dead corpse dragging itself along, but as long as you would let him. You’ll be right by his side)

[kikaiz]

If you don’t understand why there’s so many dislikes and uproar about Nintendo’s online service that’s launching tomorrow, let me just provide ya’ll a list, because I feel terrible for the majority of folks that don’t know. And no, this isn’t about the price, it’s about what we’re paying for.

Disclaimer: Let me know if any of this information is wrong with evidence, and I’ll update the info. Everything will be under the Read More so that misinformation doesn’t spread and because frankly, it’s long. 

The overall comparisons!

Note: There is a bit of bias here because I am angry and because I don’t care about NES games. Also not everything I’ve listed are things I care about but I know would bother someone out there so they’re in this list. Also here’s the links for the American and Japanese trailers if you’re curious how the dislike ratio has become since this post.

**Price per year**

❎ $60 (Xbox) 🅿️ $60 (PlayStation) 🆘 $20 (Switch Online Service)

**Servers**

❎ Dedicated server 🅿️ Dedicated server 🆘 Peer to Peer WiFi (your own internet server)

**Online and Party Chat**

❎ Need service to play online however, you don’t need it to access apps and services. Membership required for Party chat (thru the system itself). 🅿️ Need service to play online however, you don’t need it to access apps and services or Party chat (thru the system itself). Members also gain a few extra features, including automatic downloads of game updates, early access to some betas, and extended game trials of certain titles. Allows you to share one subscription with all users of the console. 🆘 Need service to play online. Splatoon becomes unplayable offline. No apps available (Netflix, YouTube, browser). Requires smart phone and app in order to Party chat. No Netflix, YouTube, or browser. No themes or messaging.

**Cloud Saves**

❎ Cloud saving for all games as well as free usb transfers. Cloud is also available Free to Everyone and not just paying members. 🅿️ Cloud saving for all games as well as free usb transfers. Unsubscribed members cloud saves are kept for a 6 month grace period. 🆘 Cloud saves for games except Splatoon 2 and Pokémon. No way to back up data otherwise, despite SD card saving being available on Wii, Wii U, and 3DS. Edit: One week after the service launched, we finally got information that there is indeed a 6 month grace period for your cloud saves if you’ve unsubscribed. (Technically 1 year, 6 months, 22 days for this information if we’re counting from when the switch launched.)

**Free Games**

❎ 2 free Xbox one games and 2 Xbox 360 games every month, all new triple A quality. If you unsubscribe, you’ll lose access to these games. However if you resub, you will have access to them and their saves again. Xbox 360 games can be kept regardless of subbing. (Note: xbox 1 is backwards compatible that’s why I’m listing Xbox 360 info) 🅿️ 2 free new triple A games every month. If you unsubscribe, you’ll lose access to these games. However if you resub, you will have access to them and their saves again. 🆘 20 NES games. That’s it. Just these twenty 33 year old games with “more to come”. However they will cycle. When 20 new ones come the old 20 are gone and you do not own them. If you are away from wifi for 7 days (whether that be a storm or a vacation), you cannot play the NES games you paid for. Edit: The co op plays with friends seems seamless and fun for games I don’t plan on playing. WARNING: Do not use the CRT filter on the NES games because they’ll have a temporary “burn in” effect on your switch screen due to how the pixels vibrate. This eventually goes away on its own over time (and not by turning on and off your system) but I wouldn’t chance it, personally.

**Game Discounts or Special Offers**

❎ Many discounts for members but there are a few sales for non members too. 🅿️ The store regularly has discounts for everyone. However members may get a better deal. If a game is 60% off for a regular, it could be 80% off for a member. 🆘 So far the only special offers are NES controllers (only available if you’re a member of the Online service. This means you’ll be paying $80 total) and exclusive sports gear for Splatoon 2.

**Other Info**  🆘

https://www.polygon.com/2018/9/13/17855056/nintendo-switch-online-launch-user-accounts-unlink-how-to

A personal rant from a Splatoon fan! 🦑🐙

When I’d heard about the online being mandatory for Splatoon 2, I was saddened but I understood, especially under the assumption that I would be paying for servers to run to improve disconnectivity drops. I had no problems with just that. And the price was affordable for me to boot.

Then I learned that I cannot back up my save data. I heard about 3rd party docks bricking switches and losing saves, of people who’s switches were stolen at E3′s and losing their saves.

Then I learned that Splatoon 2′s saves aren’t tied to the account or to Nintendo but to each individual switch itself. 

Then I found out cloud saves will not work on Splatoon 2 and upcoming Pokemon games “to prevent cheating”. So not only can I not back up by SD card like we have been for the last 12 years, but I can’t save my 700+ hours of Splatoon at all. All to prevent save scumming... despite there already being plenty of Splatoon hackers already that do a lot worse than save scumming. And there are solutions to these problems so that cloud saving is possible for every game!

I just can’t protect my Splatoon 2 data... Not all the weapons I’ve bought, every outfit I’ve bought and leveled up, not my ranks. The only game I would actually care about losing my progress cannot be backed up.

Then I found out I’m not even paying for a better server. It’s going to continue to be peer to peer using our own wifi.

I do not play other online games. Sure some games I would love to play with friends like minecraft and dragon quest builders 2 and pokemon, but I can live without it since local multiplayer is still free. Splatoon however becomes unplayable offline. You cannot even go to the store to buy new outfits. The only part of Splatoon I could play offline are the single player mode and DLC but I’ve already 100% those.

The Splatoon series is my favorite... It’s the first time a game made me feel good about myself and my aim and actually made me improve myself irl. I don’t mind paying for online if I’m actually going to get something out of it. It’s been over a year of delaying this online and they haven’t changed anything for me. 

I’ll probably cave in the end... I just love Splatoon so much and I want to play all the new updates and keep getting better. But for now, I’ll try to boycott for as long as possible, maybe use my 1 free week trial for the October splatfest if it’s spooky. But until then, I hope people who will boycott with me will return to Splatoon 1 until Nintendo adds something. I don’t expect this boycott or our message to get to Nintendo in the end. I think there are already too many people blinded by the cheap price and lack of information and upcoming Smash game. I don’t want to pay for something like this. 

What would make me feel better about this service:

I just want to know that I won’t lose my Splatoon progress if my switch gets damaged or stolen. 

I want confirmation that my Splatoon progress is tied to my account not my system. 

I also think Cloud Saves in general should be free for all if there’s no other way to backup saves. (I would say give us SD card backups but I don’t believe games like Splatoon and Pokemon should have those because that’s local save scumming and we don’t want that.) Right now, Nintendo is the only ones charging us to protect our saves. 

I want a word from Nintendo that servers will improve in the future, otherwise Peer to Peer should be free and dedicated servers should be paid for. I know for sure that hardcore Smash players would pay for dedicated servers. 

Personally, I don’t mind about NES (because I won’t play them) or the phone app (splatnet2 is great and I can just keep using discord or like the actual phone). HOWEVER, I really really need a real way to block/ban players in splatoon 2 in-game and not using the App, (as well as a way to Un-yeah a post in the lobby from accidental clicks but that’s more a splatoon problem than a phone problem.)

Sure what I asked for is taking out all the good stuff from the Online service but imagine this. Imagine if Switch Online actually had things worth paying for. Imagine your themes and browser apps and mutual best friend messaging. Imagine games other than NES coming to that service they’re providing eventually. Imagine bigger sales available on eshop that notifies you when games on your wishlist are on sale. It’s so cheap many more people would buy and keep a subscription without all this controversy. It’s taken them a year to pull this off and they’ve got nothing for it. Why? Because they know people will pay for it anyway. 

I want to be wrong about all this, trust me. At the very least, Nintendo is at fault for making about 18k people really really upset and anxious with poor communication.

FAQ

“You knew you were going to have to pay for a service so you shouldn’t have bought a multiplayer game like Splatoon.”

I was under the impression for over a year with no other info that I would be paying for dedicated servers along with the Online.

“Stop complaining, this was a really long free trial and you knew that.”

Yep! And they kept delaying it. And delaying it. And delaying it. So I think we were all assuming Nintendo had a big surprise they were delaying all this for to make it worth the wait. It’s not.

“It’s $20 a year, that’s way cheaper than the competition. Of course it’s not going to have a lot of offers.”

Yes, I agree! But for me this is less than what I expected and trust me I was not expecting much. This is less than the basics.

“So you bought a $300 switch, $60 game, $20 DLC, and $70 pro controller but you can’t pay $20 a year? Sure.”

I want to pay $20 a year for a service not a hostage situation. Sorry if I seem upset about having a gun to my head.

“The Wii U was a failure. Nintendo needs the money. Do you want them to go bankrupt?”

Don’t sympathize with billion dollar companies like they have feelings. We have problem of treating large companies like people instead of money producing companies, especially if there’s nostalgia attached. “Don’t be mean to Nintendo, they’re having a rough time.” The sooner more people realize this, the better. And no they’re not in need of money. They have $10.5 billion in the bank. For some perspective that’s 35 million switches. For further perspective if just one second was a dollar, that’s 333 years. They’re fine.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

Because I want Nintendo to succeed. I don’t want them to have EA levels of controversy. I don’t want them to worm their way to EA levels of anti-consumerism. We already have loot boxes in a free mobile game. And now the free online we’ve had for 12 years is under a paywall. I’m not mad about either of these. I just don’t want it to get any worse than that. I don’t want Nintendo to think they can get away with the bare minimum just because “they’ll buy it anyway.” Nintendo has been making great leaps forward with the switch but things like this severely set them back.