#the power I could wield if Tumblr would let me

[m-1-8]

"Missed me, Johnny?” “Been a week, ye big fuck.” [Translation; Obviously]

Balaclava alt

[corseque]

Transferring a twitter Dragon Age 4 theory to tumblr:

This is a theory about the very latest DA4 information that people were upset to learn about because they want to wait for the game rather than hear too much, so look elswhere if that is you. I suspect that Rook is called "Rook" for a reason. I suspect their color is purple for a reason.

Rook is associated with trickery and death, a bad omen.

Hmm.... that reminds me a little of a "dread wolf."

I, for a long time, thought the game was called "Dreadwolf" because the main character would be taking on the trials and tribulations and responsibilities of the Dread Wolf onto their own shoulders. This suspicion has expanded hugely in my mind when I think about DA4 because what exactly is the story set-up, here? What is the Dread Wolf?

Solas, who is playing the role in the story of Dragon Age of an ancient trickster deity, has claim and power over the functions that trickster gods. Namely, power over doorways, thresholds, boundaries.

It doesn't matter what Solas thinks about godhood if he has all the trappings and power of godhood. There is no material difference in a fictional story.

(I love that Solas in the prologue is demonstrating exactly what you would expect from a Trickster God in this situation - manipulating boundaries, and then being Just a Little Guy.)

So the game prologue opens on Solas, a trickster god, delicately manipulating the magical boundary between worlds, which is something that you would expect a trickster god to do. Then unfolds a scene in which a tiny figure (Rook) causes a larger-than-life god (Solas) mischief and, with Rook's foolish meddling, undoes the very fabric of normalcy, trapping the trickster god and throwing the world into chaos, upsetting the very balance of power between the gods, threatening the end of the world.

Rook then recieves power over the Veil the trickster god has, the sacred knife that the trickster god wields, the ability to traverse back and forth between the boundaries only easily traversed by the trickster god, the magical mirror teleportation network of the trickster god, the magical floating Lighthouse home of the trickster god, the responsibilities of the trickster god, etc.

Rook also recieves the advice of the trickster god, whether they want it or not (it seems).

Do you see what I'm saying?

"They call me the Dread Wolf, what will they call you when this is over?"

I think this game may be about Rook becoming a trickster god.

As Felassan tells Briala in The Masked Empire, "[Becoming a god] is for the stories to decide."

Tricksters in folklore are very often mortal, human heroes. Very often, they act stupidly and foolishly (like we are said to do by interrupting Solas in the prologue) and somehow win anyway.

And what more powerful figure could there be, to fight with gods? Only a little guy like Solas or Rook, could hope to fight multiple gods and win. A little tiny trickster hero who makes foolish mistakes but is unkillable like Bugs Bunny is actually the perfect challenger to all-powerful deities.

Anyway, so if we get all of Solas' powers and his responsibilities, if we're, in a way, in training to become a trickster god. We may be stepping into myth and doing his job for him, disrupting things the way he does, and there will be comparisons. (the articles tell us that Solas is comparing himself to Rook, and that he doesn't like what he sees of himself in Rook). People always acted like Solas' situation was incredibly easy, but imo we could never actually understand what his story was, or see it from his point of view, enough to judge him. But if we actually walk in his shoes, then maybe we can actually have a part of the conversation. And later, maybe part of the myth.

The little Rook-bird that tugged the Dread Wolf's tail and let the creators free again, the little trickster Rook that destroyed or saved the world. I wonder what kind of trickster they will call us, when it is all over?

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Hey, Tira!! Anon that suggested Latina! Reader here. First of all, are you doing good? Remember to drink water, okay?

Secondly, for a neglected! Reader plot,(or maybe a one-shot, whatever you feel like writing) what do you think about magical girl! Reader? Like, there's this pink (or any other color) teenage girl/boy in gotham that fights some type of not really scary monster (maybe those from precure, as they don't look that frightening) with glitter and hearts and cute stuff and then the batfam is just flabbergasted because why?? Are they?? So cute?? And they become yandere because they just think reader is so so adorable and innocent

And maybe gotham villains have a soft spot for reader becuase they saved them for the monster thingys

And now reader has to deal with all the most powerful entities in gotham being obsessed over them

And IF it is a neglected! Reader they have to deal with the pain of being adored by the batfam as their magical girl persona, but not as their real self

OR MAYBE!! Star butterfly! Reader (i could elaborate if you want!)

Sorry for the long ask and any writing mistakes, and again, really self indulgent because I love love love magical girls!!

Hi! I love hearing from you again!!! I'm doing good, I just watched the Deadpool and Wolverine movie and it's taken a grip on me 😩

I love that idea for the plot! I was hoping to do a magical girl reader because my FYP on both Tiktok AND Tumblr has been magical girl batfam and I just finished watching Sailor Moon last night.

I'd love to incorporate that into the plot (as well as make a separate one-shot of it in a different instance).

I for sure think that the Batfam would have the mindset of "oh, they're dressed up in cute, bright colours and is fighting non-frightening monsters. That must mean they're an innocent teen playing dress up and doesn't actually know the truth about the real world"

Whether it's true or not is up to you to decide for now but I personally think that Reader would be in the middle, aware of the world around them but oblivious to how it affects themselves - or completely different then that, Reader would be completely aware of the world and struggles in real life but fights as a magical girl + with a smile on her face so she can give others hope.

For the villains I think for sure that the ones who have a proper soft spot (eg. Wouldn't get Reader involved in crimes, would work to protect Reader) would be Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Riddler, Two-Face and Penguin.

For the villains that will let Reader get into trouble so they can save them I think it would be Bane, Catwoman, Clayface and Killer Croc. (Possibly Mad Hatter).

For the villains who would purposefully incorporate Reader into their schemes I think the main ones would be Joker, Hugo Strange and Scarecrow (for two different reasons however).

For Joker he'd see it more so as a bonding experience, a way to "hang out" and "catch up". Even if the Reader is held hostage, in the middle of the battle field, etc.

For Scarecrow I think it would come moreso from a sense of morbid curiosity. How far will Reader go to help people? How does their mind work? How will they react to Fear Gas? What is their fear?

I'd definitely think Harley would love the outfit and Mad Hatter would start to think of you as Alice with your colourful get-up.

If we're talking Batman villains who aren't in Gotham (Talia, Ra, Deadshot, Deathstroke) then I feel it would be a different kind of attachment.

It would be more like "what is this colourful child doing in such a dark place?" (Even if you are already in your adult years).

Talia and Ra would see Reader as someone to train, Reader has great strength to wield and if Talia/Ra can train them then Reader will be a great asset.

The difference between the two would be that Talia grows attached in a nurturing way while Ra grows attached in a condescending way.

Eg.

Talia would think of Reader as a child for her to protect

Ra would think of Reader as a lamb that will be slaughtered without him.

Deadshot has his own kid, he doesn't care much for another until seeing Reader hurt/sad. Reader would be a substitute for Deadshot's daughter while she's with her mother.

Deathstroke, I really don't like him (sorry if you do, he just makes me feel icky), but I feel he'd have a mix between Talia's headspace and Ra's headspace.

"Reader can't survive without me guiding them. Reader needs a father to help them grow" it doesn't matter if you have a dad, he won't compare to Deathstroke. If it's such a big deal for Reader Deathstroke will just remove Reader's father from the picture.

I'd love for you to elaborate on Star Butterfly!

Dw about long requests, I literally squealed when I saw it!!

[tswaney17]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

@elriel-month | Once Upon a Dream

I'm so excited to share this Tangled retelling fic. It came to me last minute and I'm still in shock I managed to bust this one out. 😅 This story is heavily inspired by two songs, "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" and "Cassandra" both by Taylor Swift. I recommend listening to them to get the full experience of this fic. 💗

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: Some minor descriptions of violence

Word Count: 7,053

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.

Azriel buckled his weapons belt over his hips, tightening the straps around his thick thigh that contained the legendary dagger at his side. It was his preferred method to kill the monsters he was paid to end. Though he carried a few other daggers and a long sword strapped down the center of his spine, they weren’t Truthteller.

They weren’t the dagger that stories were told about around village fires.

They weren’t the dagger children pretended to wield when they played knights and dragons and thieves.

His lips curled up at the thought of them using wooden swords and declaring themselves knights of the kingdom. Slashing the toy as if they held his blade in their small hands. The idea was completely absurd.

Because Azriel was no knight.

He traveled from village to village, kingdom to kingdom, taking coins from the townsfolks or the royals themselves to slay whatever beast was terrorizing them. Using the knife believed to have magic embedded within the very blade to always strike true. The only magical thing people dared to accept in this world.

The stories he could tell would cower most people, but not a single monster had ever given him pause.

Until today.

Until he was called upon to slay the sorceress who retired to a tall tower in the woods. Azriel wasn’t too familiar with sorceresses or the power they possessed. But the coin offered by the town was too good to pass up.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

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@curiositywoman

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[sweetwolfcupcake]

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2 Finale (Namjoon 2/2)

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline: Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok), Part 1/2

Warning- Blood, violence

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

This has to be my most annoying experience with Tumblr.

The club was packed. Packed to the brim.

Neon lights flickered along with artificial smoke as the beat made the crowd cheer and hoot, raise their hands as the DJs played mash hits. It was the party season and those who could afford to be in any of Lee Henchin's clubs were having a blast.

A shadow moved seamlessly between the dancing and grinding bodies. Smoke, alcohol and even white power on some. As midnight occurred, the beats grew more intense. But the shadow glided towards the underground kitchen.

.

"We are done for the night." Lee Henchin plopped down on the velvet sofa, throwing his head back.

"Thanks man." He thanked his guest who poured him a drink before filling is own glass.

"My pleasure." the man smiled before taking gulp.

"Now that we are free, we can speak of what is truly important. So, Mr Park. It would have been an honour though, had your boss graced his place with his presence."

"I suppose you have the information what happened with the deal regarding the gulf shipment."

"I have heard about the deal and how terribly wrong it went. It's a joint-loss." Henchin nodded as he took a swig before refilling his glass.

Mr Park observed him. For moments, none of them spoke.

"He wants a favour."

The hallway on the second floor was lit up with neon green and blue, but a certain turn led to a corridor plunged in red. The trolley rolled smoothly though the surface– the three-tire filled bottles of scotch and bourbon, ice– mixers and garnishes. It was a bar on wheels.

Henchin would leave no stone unturned in providing the best hospitality to people important to him– those who could bring him profit.

"Nobody has seen him for a while now Mr Park. There are rumours floating all around."

Mr Park only smiled before finishing his drink.

"Lets get down to business shall we?"

.

The smooth roll of the three tired tray came to a quiet stop as soon as a hand rose in the air.

"We need to check your ID first." The imposing man loomed over six feet.

"But I work here."

"It's Boss' order. Now, ID please." he demanded gruffly, leaving no room for argument.

"Sure." The waitress nodded and turned her eyes to her side to pull out the exclusive ID Card.

.

"Why not Gangnam? There are still many clubs waiting for their share– they paid millions Mr Park."

"There is a shift in priority Henchin. You are our most important distributor– you wield influence over the market here like no other. We have expectations for you."

'Well, Gangnam is where most of the money flows from and–"

"Twelve million."

"Sorry?"

"Twelve million, in dollars. Last time it was six right, we offer you a deal of twelve million dollars."

All incoming excuses dried up in Henchin's mouth as she leaned back to weigh his options and profits."

"You can think closely of it for now. Excuse me." With that Mr Park excused himself to the restroom.

.

The bodyguard frowned.

"This is not—"

His head jerked back before he could finish his words. The bullet was faster.

The other three guards jumped to action even before the dead guard's body touched the ground.

(Y/N) jumped on one of them, locking his head between her head while leveraging the position to shoot down two of the guards in succession.

The man in her hold elbowed her back as they both landed on the ground, struggling to gain control. (Y/N) did not leave his head, her knees tightened around his neck while she blocked another blow from him.

His leg latched on to her arm blocked his elbow, managing to free his hand from her grip. Instead, it stretched and reached for her throat. She jabbed her elbow on his arm with enough force to bend it. He screamed in agony and that gave her all the time to shoot him right in his head.

Blood splashed on the floor as the man lay dead with open eyes.

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of rushing footsteps. Of course...

She fired at the approaching men while unlatching the dead man from her. Three more silenced gunshots fired at the men– mission one, injuring the other and killing one with a headshot.

When they fired, their gunshots alerted the whole floor.

"Shit!"

She had rolled away at the right moment but a bullet did manage to graze her arm. She breathed deeply as pain spread across her arm, but there was no room to rest. Quickly grabbing the dead guard's gun, she shot the attackers dead.

But of course, this was not the end. Cursing, she took the now dead guards' guns. She needed them. And more. Rushing towards the beginning of the corridor, she used the wall as a shield, slowing them down as she fired at them. Two of them down. Four three bullets gone, and the other three had ducked behind walls as well.

Great!

She hissed, narrowly missing a bullet when her injured arm was strained further, drawing out more blood. But she had no time to tend to that.

As soon as another head peeked out, she fired. A head shot– one more down. But there was no time to engage in a gunfire battle for long. Firing another round, she managed to injure another before bolting towards the room Henchin was at.

Quickly grabbing the ID now speckled with blood,  she inserted it to a slit and the door unlocked.

She shot the first guard who came into view. Then using the door to shield herself from other bullets, she shot the nearest attacker's foot, earning a pained scream but he managed to swing his arm. She blocked it mid-air, stabbing her feet on his shot foot– but his scream was caught midway when she shot him in the neck while shutting the door lock.

Henchin's scream vaguely reached her ears as he scrambled to get away.

"KILL HER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"

.

The muffled sounds of gunshots echoed in the isolated restroom as Mr Park calmly fixed the buttons of his suit. His eyes gleamed with the ghost of a smile as he checked his watch.

.

She groaned at one of the his men kicked the back of her knee, making her fall flat on the ground. His foot stomped over the back of her knee and she wheezed. She fired her gun, shooting his right on his shin. His leg moved from her and he fell on her and squeezed her injured arm.

"Argh! Son of a bitch!"

It was painful, to say the least. Using all her weight, she flipped him over and pinned him with her knees and a hand on his throat, while firing on the rest of her two attackers. She punched the man underneath her in two successive blows before looking up again.

Her eyes finally found her target scrambling to get away or get a gun. Keeping her steeled and ranging gaze locked with his flabbergasted and terrified one, she smirked coldly and shot the man underneath her dead.

.

Mr Park's hands were tucked in his trouser pockets. The sound of crashing and breaking reached his ears. He turned his head slightly before checking his watch again.

It was time.

.

(Y/N) dodged the filled bottle of alcohol thrown at her as she dashed towards him. His hands were faster however, stabbing her on the shoulder right as she reached him grabbing his throat. She hissed, but continued to attack nevertheless.

The sound of footsteps was easily distinguishable in the otherwise deathly silent room. No hurry, no aggression, just slow, calculated steps. Both of them turned to look at Mr Park who stood at a distance.

"P-Park help me!"

Henchin demanded.

"Sure, Lee."

With that, Mr Park fired and they both stilled.

(Y/N) frowned when no bullet reached her, but instead, she turned to see the last of Henchin's men in the room drop dead.

But the distraction was enough for him to spring to action.

"FUCK YOU!"

In a moment, Henchin flipped her down, grabbing his previously discarded tie and wrapping it around her neck while he tried to stab her. He was going for her eye but one hand grabbed his wrist while the other went to poke his eye. The lapse in his strength gave her the perfect opportunity to bend his hand and jabbed the knife into his neck.

She blinked and her face was marred with his blood.

Finally, gaining the upper hand, she flipped him off and before he could move further, fired three shots at him.

Breathless, worn out and beat, she lay on the floor. Her throat parched, her body aching and her eyes filled up with unshed tears. One stray drop escaped through the corner of her eyes. The ceiling above was lit with golden lights but all she could see was her father's face.

"Are you crazy? We can't let you go alone!" Kyong would not relent, no matter what.

"This is personal Kyong. This is my battle."

He shook his head "I know you blame yourself for Dok's—"

"Henchin's men came that night. He was the one behind my father's murder Kyong. I saw it all unfold, hiding. And I could not do anything..."

"You were a child! What else could you do?" Han spoke up this time.

"But now I can...And I will. I can't let you both risk everything this time."

"But—"

"Kyong, please. You both want to help me? Ease my way in. Try to cover up for me...Even if I do not return."

"You are your father's daughter (Y/N). I had only heard of that man." Kyong was finally relenting.

"I am." her eyes moved to the tiger stuff toy sitting behind a shelf.

She understood the meaning behind her father's last gift now.

"If you are not back in an hour, (Y/N), we are coming up. No matter what happens."

"Kyong is right. One hour (Y/N) and you let us know if something goes wrong."

With a long sigh, she nodded.

The sound of sauntering footsteps and the glass shards crunching beneath the shoes brought her back to reality.

"My Lady..."

The voice was mellifluous but held a certain dip to it. His face cam into view before he offered his hand. Begrudgingly, she accepted it and stood up, finally feeling all the injuries hit her now that the adrenaline had left her body. His grip did not loosen though, instead, he turned it into a handshake.

"I'm Jimin. Park Jimin."

She nodded, still assessing him.

Why did he help her? Why was there not any sigh of caution or strain in his body language?

He was confident, calm, collected. He was no ordinary man.

"Oh, sorry, I never had the chance to meet you. Before hyung could introduce you us...You flew away."

Her frown smoothened in recognition.

Of course, he was Kim Namjoon's man. And the way he addressed the Underworld leader, she concluded that he was a part of Namjoon's close circle.

"How is he?"

Jimin smiled "Why don't you find out yourself?" with that, he fished out his phone and dialled a number before offering her his phone. Reluctantly, she took it.

"Hello? Jimin, any updates?"

Her heart skipped a beat. It had felt like an eternity. There was silence when she did not reply before he broke it himself

"(Y/N)?" There was a tremble in his voice.

"How are you Namjoon?" she finally asked.

"Your shot my shoulder when you could aim for my head. It just proves your love."

She shut her eyes and licked her lips.

"We can never be one Namjoon..."

"I could have saved Henchin...But I wanted to prove you my love."

"I don't doubt your love Namjoon...Think of it as wrong person, worst time. And forget me."

She heard him chuckle through the phone.

"You can run...for now. Not for long. I will find you Little Bird. i will reach you and then we can defy time, circumstances and the bloody destiny."

(Y/N) stood in silence as her stare hardened.

"You can try."

With that, she hung up and returned the phone to Jimin.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Park."

Jimin smiled and nodded.

"Likewise." He replied as he watched her walk away. A bit slow, slightly limping but with a good grasp over her gun.

***

Finally, finished it.

2023 was a year. There was so much happening and going with the flow was the only option.

I tend to let things sink in before I fully assess and feel the intensity of my emotions. And BTS' enlistment was no different. Yes, Jin and Jhope's last MVs brought tears to my eyes, but none of their buzz-cut photos did. Then, before going to bed, I saw Namjoon's Instagram story before he joined the bootcamp...And I burst into tears. There were several reason, several aspects, my loss, my hopelessness, the post just acted as a trigger.

I used to think that I could always comfort myself, that I could handle things on my own--as I always have done. But that night, I realised how battered and tired I were. The year sucked me dry somehow, or maybe it was the final straw. But I realised that now and then, i need another person's comfort too. That sharing my grief with the right people would not make me a burden.

I think this is one of the reasons why this reaction stretched so much. It's 51k words in total (Part 1 and 2)-- only for hyngline. This was the way I found some comfort-- writing, and publishing it here.

So, no matter how the year went, I'm thankful to all of you for reading my stories.

A very happy and prosperous new year ahead my friends.

[thatcryptidinthewoods]

Commander Kido is a Dad, actually.

Tumblr has once again tried to limit me with a 30-image cap and once again, I cannot be stopped. Full version can be found here.

Okay, so hear me out.

When Kido's first introduced, it's as this cold, distant leader who hates Neighbours and is running a strictly military operation.

But for someone who really hates Neighbours, he has a weird habit of taking in all these orphaned, homeless Neighbour kids. At first it appears like Yūma is the only exception, but then there's Hyuse, Yōtarō, his sister Ruka and Cronin.

There's other agents to think about too. There's a lot of characters in Border who, when you really think about it, would not normally be accepted into that kind of organisation. For example: • Taichi; he's incredibly clumsy, which causes him to break or knock over all sorts of things - people included. • Tsuji; he can't interact with women without having a mental breakdown, which is incredibly limiting on his ability to work with other agents. • Nasu; outside of the trion body, she's disabled and it's mentioned that her health is ailing. • Chika; despite her insane trion levels, she's incredibly inexperienced - having so much power yet not knowing how to wield it can be incredibly dangerous and destructive, it's a very high risk. • Osamu; the exact opposite of Chika, his trion levels are so low he's outclassed by pretty much every other agent in Border. • Kageura; he's incredibly easy to agitate and quick to respond with physical aggression. • Hatohara; she cannot shoot people, no matter how hard she tries, and if Border was any other organisation they wouldn't have spared her a single thought.

All of these are characters who would normally be considered "problems" or "not worth it". But in Border, they're not only openly accepted, but given the environment and tools they need in order to properly grow and develop their talents.

If Kido only cared about killing the Neighbours, Border wouldn't be like this. It wouldn't be filled to the brim with a bunch of teenagers who, in one way or another, would be considered the "outcasts".

Kido is cold and distant because he's the commander, the very top of Border, and his job is to put Border first. He's the one who has to make the ultimate decision to sacrifice the one for the many, so he needs that emotional detachment. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care, or that he isn't invested in this hoard of teens he's in charge of.

This is a core part of his character, and we see it in the way he interacts with the main cast.

When Osamu is first brought before the Border Executives, he's in trouble for going against Border's rules on C-Rank trigger usage. But the reason he broke those rules was because people were in danger, and the nearest qualified Border patrol was miles away. He acted to protect people.

While the other directors discuss and argue these points, Kido sits silently and listens. He doesn't say anything until every side has spoken their piece and all variables are on the table. He lets Kinuta and Netsuki point out all the issues and flaws and he lets Shinoda defend Osamu's decision. He waits.

And then, when he does speak, he starts by acknowledging Shinoda's point about the benefits of Osamu's willingness to act. He acknowledges that yes, that is absolutely a good trait to have, especially in terms of being an agent of Border.

But Border comes first, and part of that is maintaining unity. He can't support an agent going rogue because, while it might be for the right reasons, it could cause serious complications in the future.

Yet even so, he gives Osamu one last chance to fall back in line. He gives him an easy opening for staying in Border.

Osamu could've said that no, he wouldn't do it again, and he might've been let off the hook. But he doesn't, because he's honest, and Kido sees that.

Then Jin interferes, and he provides a reason for Osamu to stay that directly benefits Border.

How does Kido respond?

He agrees without hesitation. This way, Border is benefited and Osamu can still remain an agent. He doesn't need to choose between the one or the many anymore.

Then he learns that Osamu has contacted a Neighbour. Does he revoke Osamu's status as an agent? No. He doesn't even mention it, even though he literally just witnessed Osamu lie to a senior agent about his involvement with Neighbours.

What does he actually care about?

That there's an enemy running rogue in Mikado City. That the city and its civilians could be in danger.

Which leads us to how he reacts to Yūma.

Yūma is a Neighbour. That's all Kido knows about him at this point. Yūma is a Neighbour, the Neighbours hurt people and Border's job is to stop them. So Kido must ensure that this Neighbour doesn't hurt anyone either.

The very next thing he learns about the rogue Neighbour is that he has a black trigger. That whoever he is, he is twice as dangerous as a Neighbour is normally.

(Osamu, again, gets in trouble for withholding this information. And Kido, again, waits for everyone to say their piece about it before commenting - even though it would make more sense for him to punish Osamu on the spot.)

Jin suggests they make the Neighbour with the black trigger their ally.

There is merit to this, and Kido knows that - but he hasn't met Yūma like Osamu and Jin have, knows next to nothing about him except that he's one of their enemy and in possession of an incredibly dangerous weapon. So he chooses the good of the many.

Side note: at no point does Kido claim, or even imply, that Jin was wrong to believe they could make an alliance with the Neighbour. Kido recognises that Jin's suggestion is valid, it's just that his and Jin's priorities are different, so their decisions will ultimately be different as well.

Yet he still assigns Jin to catch the Neighbour, because Jin has Fujin - despite knowing full well that Jin is taking the opposite stance to him.

Kido isn't a fool. He is a very smart, perceptive man. He knows Jin's go-to tactic is abusing loopholes, the guy's whole shtick is literally bullshitting the rules. Which is why he's the least surprised when Jin pulls an Uno Reverse and claims he can't take the orders due to Border's chain of command.

Kido respects that Jin does not want to kill the Neighbour, and so he provides an opening for Jin to turn down the order without being disrespectful. In fact, Kido only becomes confused and surprised when Rindō changes the order. At no point does he take fault with any of the agents present.

Back to Yūma.

The third thing Kido learns about the black-trigger-wielding rogue Neighbour is that he is, allegedly, Yugo Kuga's son.

Now, he has more to think about. There's more variables to consider. If it is Yugo's son, then Kido has just initiated a manhunt against the kin of his old friend. But at the same time, it's also possible that the Neighbour is lying.

So things have become more complicated, and you can see it in his expression.

To add to this, Yugo is now apparently dead. So the black-trigger-wielding rogue Neighbour is also, if he is to be believed, an orphan.

In the span of a few minutes, the situation has taken a nosedive into very delicate territory. Kido, as the commander, must make the ultimate choice. And as is his job, he chooses to put Border first.

What follows is a mad scuffle between the different factions of Border as Tamakoma aims protect Yūma while Kido aims to collect his black trigger.

Remember, Kido does not know that the trigger is what's keeping Yūma alive. At this point in the story, this is a fact that only Yūma himself knows until he shares it with Jin and Replica tells Osamu. So Kido's goal is not necessarily to harm him, it's just to retrieve the trigger. Likewise, the order he gives the A-Rank agents is "to secure the black trigger currently at the Tamakoma Branch" and "you must secure this black trigger by any means". He gives no order regarding Yūma specifically.

When this fails, the executives start infighting. The situation is rapidly deteriorating and things are getting out of hand, so Kido must be the commander again and force things back into order. And of course, he must make a choice: if he lets the black trigger go, the situation will calm back down, but then Tamakoma will have two black triggers and Border will be at a political disadvantage.

So he chooses what will result in the best outcome for Border over Tamakoma. He once again chooses to sacrifice the few for the many.

But then Jin swoops in and presents him with an alternative. He offers Fujin in exchange for Yūma's admittance as a Border agent and, after some arguing, reveals that his enlistment will be a direct benefit for Border later down the line. So not only will Border get Fujin, but letting Yūma join now will reward them with a net positive in the future.

And with minimal hesitation, Kido agrees.

After this, the tension dissipates and the dust settles. Things return to normal.

In chapter 41, Kido finally gets to meet Yūma fact to face. For the first time, he gets to see Yugo's son, the kid who caused so much drama and infighting just a few weeks ago. And what does he see?

He sees a well-meaning, genuine kid who doesn't hesitate to help. Which is why he doesn't lie when he promises Replica that Yūma will be protected under Border.

Plus, a minor but important detail here is that Replica only asked for Kido to guarantee Yūma's safety ("I would like the Border Commander to guarantee Yūma's safety in exchange for this information") yet Kido specifies that so long as Yūma is a part of Border, he will guarantee both his safety and his rights. He made the decision on his own to protect Yūma's freedom and independence.

[sang8262]

JP - World Tour: Master Quotes and Dialogue

This is a dump of all the master quotes that JP has in World Tour. It includes stuff like his responses to different gifts, or different answers depending on dialogue options for the conversations you have with him. Did my best to group them into sections that made the most sense!

! Note !

It's a bit hard to tell -when- exactly the quotes trigger, since none of that information is in the raw text file. I'm doing my best to remember + context clues to try an contextualize each scenario, but sorry if they get mixed up a bit!!

I also tried to format them so that his different responses to what your avatar chooses to answer with are also distinguishable. Again, posting this as a tumblr post might not have been the best but argh i hate google docs more, so.

ENJOY:

Upon first speaking to him

When the fog clears, you can see the old district from here.

It's a far cry from flourishing, but it is nonetheless a place the teeming masses of Nayshall call home.

To build a fighting arena while leaving such a teeming nexus of humanity to languish is...twisted.

I suppose that's what you're thinking?

It doesn't sit well with me.

I'm not sure how I feel about it.

......

Such debasement is the very nature of growth itself.

For something to thrive, something else must wilt and wither.

A fact of life easily understood to a fledgling fighter such as yourself.

For now, who you are seems of little concern to me.

If it is power you seek, in power I will instruct.

Teach me.

I have but a single request. No need to worry. It's quite trifling.

I don't need your instruction.

......

Unlocking new specials

Very well.

Commit to memory the following move.

///

I have a new kind of power for you.

Go ahead. Try it.

Prompting him to spar

You wish to test your mettle?

(Agreeing): Very well. Be my guest.

(Upon declining): By all means, think on it.

(After match): Well, that's that, then.

///

2. How is your Psycho Power progressing?

Show me, would you?

(Upon declining): Not quite ready, are you?

///

3. Hm. It seems to be time.

Allow me to test you.

(Upon declining): Perhaps my expectations were misplaced.

///

4. I believe you may now prove a match for me. Would you agree?

That I do.

I'm...not so sure about that.

Is that so? Very well, then.

(After sparring, either one of the two):

Very good.

That will do.

(Note: Not quite sure where these belong, but it might be after you spar with him?)

Very well. Seeing one's own moves wielded by others is quite fascinating.

Unlocking JP as an assist in battle

Practical hands-on combat experience is a splendid way to learn.

Let us study together, if you are so inclined.

Misc. dialogue. They change as you gain more bond points with him.

"Master"?

If that is what you wish to call me, by all means, go right ahead.

///

Physical combat is such an irrational thing.

In attempting to strike down your foe, you open yourself to attack as well.

If your goal is to see another human laid low, there are far better methods available, and yet.

///

Looking for meaningless banter, are we?

///

Ask, and I'll be the first to tell you.

I do not believe my skills in combat to be particularly exceptional.

Of course, I don't believe them to be entirely lacking, either.

///

What would I do if someone asked me to teach them my techniques...so that they could best me with them?

I would teach them, of course. Do you take issue with that?

///

My apologies, but I'm not one for small talk.

I struggle to keep track of the topics of gossip, you see.

///

Ah, yes. Victory.

The masses delight in victory, do they not?

Those who ruminate upon what victory truly means, however, are a far rarer breed.

///

I don't particularly care what manner of individual you are.

So long as you don't impede me, that is.

///

Why do I fight?

Amusing. I don't consider what I do "fighting," per se.

But if that's how you perceive things, I suppose I may be a fighter after all.

///

You came to me seeking strength.

A rapacious greed motivates you. I suggest you acknowledge that.

You are a heretic, driven by greed, living entirely within obsessive extremes.

///

We may have discussed this before, but it bears repeating.

Physical combat is an irrational act.

You work tirelessly to master that irrationality.

It's all quite alien to me, I must concede. But if this is what you want, I won't stop you.

///

You said you...wanted to grow stronger, yes?

You have Psycho Power now. Use it to your heart's desire.

///

I believe his name was...Bosch?

His grasp of Psycho Power was far greater than yours.

///

The desire to become stronger is a curious thing indeed.

For living things, it may very well be a natural inclination.

Strength is outwardly useful for survival, for one.

That being said, it is not necessarily the strong who survive.

In reality, to survive...is to adapt.

///

There was a man who went by the name M. Bison.

Those who sought strength inevitably encountered him.

Such was his power.

He wished to bring all things on this Earth under his control, entirely of his own strength.

He earnestly believed he could attain this goal.

This force I command—this so-called Psycho Power...

Bison researched it, seeking a means to amplify his own strength, you see.

Conversation - 1

I have a question for you.

Do you believe this world to be just?

I do.

Then we are in agreement. The world is a good and righteous place.

I do not.

Ah, so you're a realist? A noble perspective.

There are exceptions, of course. But I believe man is fundamentally good.

By trusting each other and building mutually supportive societies, humanity has prospered.

Goodness inspires amity and trust in others. It is a survival tactic employed by the human race.

Which raises the question—what is evil?

Perhaps evil refers to expropriating the goodness of others for one's own ends.

Myself?

I am merely one of the world's minuscule many, striving every day to do good.

Not unlike everyone else. Heh heh.

Quest - 1

Have you ever given any thought to this thing we call "the economy"?

Formless though it may be, its very existence drives the lives—and deaths—of billions.

To know what drives others to action is one of the fundamentals of combat.

Now go on. Consume. Consuming...is knowing.

(Upon quest completion)

Well done. So? Any impressions?

I think I've made a realization.

I'm not sure I understand.

Splendid.

Whether you've gained something from this matters little.

At times, an expected profit exerts more power over individuals than the profit itself.

And the world's economic engines are no different.

Quest - 2

You're aware of the insurgent group within this country, are you not?

Intel I've acquired suggests money to fund their operations will be changing hands...

What do you suppose we should do about that?

For now, allow me to show you where the exchange will be taking place.

(Upon quest completion)

You found the scene of the exchange? Goodness.

So. How much was there?

200,000 zenny.

Quite the impressive sum. You can go ahead and keep it. It's only fair compensation for a job well done.

Zero zenny.

(I can't find the quote!!! but he says something like "oh you let them get away that's unfortunate, I would have let you keep the money too but oh well")

A Memory from JP - 1

Was there something you wished to ask me?

Tell me about the terror attacks in Nayshall.

Ah yes. The terror attacks. An organization financing The Suval'hal Martial Arts Tournament sought to make fraudulent financial transactions. To do so, they worked with anti-government forces to cause a bombing scare in the city. I suspect you already know this, but the organization in question is the US-based Masters Foundation. In the midst of all that chaos, it seems Ken Masters, the foundation's vice chairman, resigned from his position. Was he driven to commit such heinous acts out of a blind lust for power?

Tell me about the alleged money laundering.

My, straight to the point, I see. Allow me to provide a straight answer, then. Nayshall's financial infrastructure is built upon cryptocurrency technology. If you're inquiring as to whether it's possible to use such a system to launder money...the answer is yes.

Regrettably, what I've told you is the extent of my knowledge on the subject.

All I can say for certain is this: People seek the answers they wish to hear.

A Memory from JP - 2

The Suval'hal Martial Arts Tournament?

What of it?

Tell me about Bosch.

Ah, you refer to the individual who brought a bomb to the awards ceremony. He detonated himself while the entire world looked on. Truly shocking.

Tell me about the Champion Belt bomb.

The bomb was likely intended for the master of ceremonies. That is to say...myself. Anti-government forces believe that eliminating me will return Nayshall to its former glory. They are mistaken.

That incident spurred further pressure against the anti-government forces.

Hardly surprising, considering innocent children almost became collateral damage.

Such acts cannot be condoned.

But what's done is done.

This may very well be the end of the tournament. Or perhaps it will continue.

Either is fine by me.

A Bond with JP - 1

Have you ever owned cats?

I have one by the name of Cybele.

When he was a kitten, so winsome and charming, he picked up a curious habit.

He would chase his own tail endlessly. Around and around in circles.

And what do you suppose Cybele did one day?

He caught the tail he had been chasing all that time...and bit it clean off.

Indeed, his own tail.

His thought process in this endeavor confounds me. Did he not realize the tail was his own?

Or perhaps he was keenly aware, and continued in the act regardless?

......

A bobtail he may have become...

But he remained winningly handsome. Stunningly so.

A Bond with JP - 2

As its name suggests, Psycho Power is influenced by the strength of one's psyche.

Without a strong mind to support it, great power will always remain out of reach.

A heart subjected to power beyond its control will shatter.

We discussed M. Bison, leader of Shadaloo, did we not?

I worked under him, managing the organization's financial matters.

A financial officer hardly requires martial prowess. And yet...

I desired Psycho Power. And I attained it.

Why, you ask?

I suppose I wanted to see the world through the same lens as Bison.

But what of you?

Bison sought to rule the world through violence and fear. Once you make his power yours...

How will the world look to you then, I wonder? Hahahaha...

A Bond with JP - 3

You selected me as a teacher of your own volition.

Or so you think. Isn't that right?

Reflect upon the human will for a moment. To what extent are your actions conscious acts?

There's a famous experiment. A person thinks, "I wish to move my arm," and does just that.

But in reality, it is only after moving your arm that your brain thinks upon it.

Fascinating, is it not?

The sensation of willfully choosing something only occurs after the choice has been made.

In which case...what do you believe you've chosen by studying under me?

"I wish to become stronger," perhaps? Was it truly you who thought that?

A Bond with JP - 4

Once, there was an organization called Shadaloo.

They ran an experiment. It attempted to imbue a large number of test subjects with Psycho Power.

By force, in most cases. Goodness, Shadaloo was simply dreadful.

Subjects without a propensity for Psycho Power were broken by it utterly, and perished.

Only a select few had this aptitude, and even fewer endured the training necessary to master such power.

You are one of those lucky few.

Or perhaps... Perhaps Psycho Power chose you.

But you are free to interpret things as you please.

Gifting him stuff!

(One of the three upon prompting gifts)

Why, thank you.

Thank you. I humbly accept.

Appreciated. I suppose I should thank you.

(Given a generic gift)

Yes, quite impressive. I'm sure there's someone out there who would enjoy this.

(Given Antique cards)

Oh? You're giving me trash? A good luck charm, you say? Hrm.

In any card game, using old cards is forbidden. That's a fundamental rule, I'll have you know.

(Given an Absurd Check)

You're giving me a check? I used these all the time for work, once upon a time. A check can be used in all manner of ways... Even if it bounces.

Attaining skill mastery

I'm hardly an expert when it comes to Psycho Power. With that said...

I sense in it something akin to bloodlust.

To wit, your savagery outstrips my own.

This I impart unto you: Strength... is meaningless.

You must be disappointed.

[mmkin]

Get You Some Arlong - update!

Chapter 10 of GYSA is now up... whooooooooo! Link to AO3

If you prefer to read it here on Tumblr, the chapter is under the yummy pics and cut. Trigger warnings - none that have not been used before in this story. A bit of racism/slavery. Some smutty action.

X

o0o0o0o

All you can do is lie there and stare at him for several moments as you absorb his words, wondering if you heard him correctly. Did he just ask you to have a baby with him?

You were no stranger to contraceptives. The last thing you needed in your wanderings across the South and East Blue was a brat to take care of, so you'd taken care of yourself and continued to do so with Arlong. It's something he's aware of – with all the fucking he's given you there would be a kid or two crawling around Arlong Park by now if not for your diligence.

“That's what you want?" you finally venture in a small tone. It's genuinely surprising to you that Arlong might want a child. He never seemed to want one before and let's be real, the pirate lifestyle isn't very conducive to child-rearing.

He looks down at you with a soft gaze behind his half-lidded eyes. “Why not, Y/n? It’s safe here.”

You can not deny that. Some of the escaped slaves that came here had owners looking for them. Arlong is swift – and brutal – in his persecution of the agents and bounty hunters who act on behalf of said owners. Arlong's territory was large enough, his tribe plentiful enough that threats could usually be handled before any would-be transgressors made their way to the Conomi Islands, unless it's one of the times Arlong chooses to lure someone into a trap.

And as whispers of the Arlong Empire rumble through the sea, it attracts attention from the Marines and other humans, to be sure, but it also has the effect of bringing in more seafolk to support Arlong and his empire where seafolk can move freely on land or in the waters around them without persecution. The citizens of Arlong Village are nearby, ready to fight for their leader even if they're not part of his pirate crew.

“Yes. You’ve created a magnificent place here. I’m so proud of you.” You caress his face as you look up at him, feeling his hand still on you, gently touching and rubbing you. “It’s just… a lot to think about.” You place your hand on your stomach, trying to imagine what it would be like to be bred by Arlong and carry his child. Physically and genetically, he would be an excellent sire. But siring is so simple compared to raising the product of that siring.

“I have done a fair amount of thinking as of late. The Arlong Empire has made much progress in the last couple of years, as you know since you were part of that."

You smile at that, gratified to know that the work you have done has been so beneficial to the mighty Arlong the Saw. His hand moves from your womanhood, sliding up your hip, and you thrill at the feeling of his large and strong hand encasing the curve.

“But this is not just for me or my friends and fellow fishmen. Our work here also benefits the ones that will come after us.”

“Mmm.” You give out a thoughtful hum as you ponder his words.

“Think about it, little squid,” he urges you gently. You nod, giving him a firm gaze. Oh, you’ll think plenty about it.

o0o0o0o

While you ponder Arlong's request, there are plenty of other things to think about. Since you are now confined to the island and the waters around it, you turn your focus to Arlong Village, using the skills you have to help in one way or another. As the mate of Arlong, you're suitable to receive important guests, although you also meet and greet escaped slaves and the variety of people in between who come to Arlong Park or the village.

Arlong does not call himself king, but he is respected as such, and this means you're his queen. You wear no crown, but as the Big Three and other fishmen know, you wield a great deal of power even though, unlike Arlong, you don't flaunt it. You choose to exercise your influence in more subtle ways.

“Think about it,” you urge quietly one day as Nami stands before Arlong. “If you allow Nami to go beyond the Grand Line, consider how much information she can gather for you. You don’t give a shit about the One Piece, and neither do I, but Nami can exploit those looking for it to your benefit. And as we’ve seen, it doesn’t hurt to have a few human pirates on your side. Look at how well Buggy’s doing!” Personally, considering what happened to Nami’s mother, you feel that she has more than earned true freedom. It’s her dream, and though ultimately Arlong is her – and your – captain, you will happily nudge Arlong in her favor, and that includes using whatever argument will appeal to your mate the most. “Think of what Nami can do out there with a crew backing her up. And you can sit here and reap the benefits while focusing on your empire.”

Being the Saw’s mate does have its advantages. You rest your hand on his shoulder as Nami stands there, watching the two of you. You and Nami keep your faces controlled as Arlong ponders what to do with his prized cartographer. Finally, he nods slowly.

“You have proven that you have talent beyond making maps. You may join up with these Straw Hats, but always make sure that your interests do not come in conflict with mine.”

Of course, Arlong can not help but remind Nami that he is granting her a favor. It won't be easy for Nami to balance that, but she is a smart girl and you are confident she will manage it. Arlong has plenty to be occupied with anyway. And you've heard whispers about the Revolutionary Army in the past, but it seems nowadays you are hearing more of them. The world is changing, and Arlong must change if he is to survive. Fortunately, he has made some progress. Which is better than none, you suppose, but you're hardly one to judge because you can see that you've come a way since you were a teenager.

“Any time you decide to return to the Conomi Islands, I don’t doubt your sister will be happy to see you. I bet she’ll be thrilled for you!” you say. It seems like banter on the surface but it also signals that you’ll be keeping an eye on Nami’s village to make sure Arlong doesn’t take a long absence from Nami as an opportunity to fuck around. You’re not entirely sure if he will, and despite the personal growth he’s had, he’s still an asshole sometimes.

o0o0o0o

Although you haven’t given him an answer to his big question yet and he knows you’re still taking the herbs, he will insert breeding into his dirty talk when he is in an especially rough mood.

Yes, that’s it be a good breeding slut and take my cocks… fill you up with so much cum… put my shark pups in your belly… He gets very dominant and aggressive at these times like he's acting on pure instinct, and you figure he is, just as you do when you go in heat. When you think about it, you're fairly certain that seeing you seriously injured triggered his deep-seated protective instinct into overdrive. Mix that up with his possessiveness and assholery, and fuck, he can be so damn overwhelming. It almost gets too much for you sometimes, especially when he'll roll you over onto your back and pull your legs apart so he can admire the creampie he's made of your quivering and well-fucked pussy, looking pleased as fuck with himself. He's also more likely to bite when he's in rut.

At least he lets you sleep as late as you like the next day after such intense sessions, so you’re content to curl up in the blankets, sore from Arlong’s attentions but nonetheless happy and pleased as he sends Hatchan or another fishman to you with breakfast whenever you want it.

o0o0o0o

As fierce as Arlong can get with you, you do find occasion to turn the tables on him.

“Is my little squid in an aggressive mood tonight?” he asks with a soft chuckle as you slide into his lap while he’s at his desk and start to nibble along his ear. You growl quietly in response, pressing your lips to the spot just below his ear. A strong arm wraps around your middle, trapping you in his lap as he sits back, allowing you to nuzzle and rub yourself against him, tentacles sliding along him as you paw at him. “Are you in a slutty mood? Yes? That needy little hole of yours needs a good pounding, hm? Why don’t we see what we can do about that, shahaha!”

You bite the side of his neck and feel him shudder in response, his cocks straining against his shorts as he bares his teeth at you in a playful snarl.

“I want you in the bed, on your back,” you say in a commanding tone as you try to slide off his lap, but his arm holds you in place. His gaze fixes upon you when he realizes you’re not just feeling aggressive, you want to dominate him. His lips stretch into a lecherous smirk.

“You think to give your captain orders?” he mock challenges you.

“Out there, you are the captain. In here, you are my sharkman stud.”

“Is that so…” he replies in a soft purr. “Well, I can not deny that I am yours.”

With these words, he goes over and pulls out the spare comforters you keep in a chest. Since his dorsal fin prevents him from lying on his back, the two of you have figured out a creative workaround. With a carefully rolled and folded comforter on either side of his dorsal fin and a couple of pillows, Arlong can recline back on his bed, his fin slotting in place between the two thick blankets. He wiggles around a bit as he settles in, now completely naked and waiting for you.

The sight of a gorgeous sharkman lying in bed, waiting for you, looking at you expectantly with his manhood in full arousal… it’s not something you’ll ever forget.

You slide into his lap, facing his cocks while pinning his arms to the bed with your tentacles. “Look at you, so hard and ready to be fucked,” you purr at him, echoing some of the filthy talk he’s uttered to you in the past. “Do your cocks ache? Such a good stud,” you growl at him, and he smirks as he recognizes some of his language. “I bet you’re ready to shoot your load, you dirty slut. You want to put all that cum somewhere hot and tight, hmmm?”

His eyes glint and he chuckles in amusement at that. “You’re the one begging for it, little squid,” he challenges you.

“You’re the one bound and at my mercy,” you shoot back.

“Are you sure about that?” he grins, flexing his arms around your tentacles.

“You dare disobey me?” you scold him. “You will pay for that, stud!”

You make him wait for his orgasms, bringing him to the edge several times as he writhes against you. You have to admit, his self-control is impressive as his cocks quiver against your light and teasing touch, weeping precum. On occasion he’ll make a defiant noise, snapping or growling at you, but it’s all in good fun. He wiggles his hips, his cocks bouncing and swaying as he groans in frustration as you wrap a tentacle around the base of his cocks.

“You’re mine,” you growl at Arlong. He growls louder at you, a happy glint in his eyes.

o0o0o0o

“There will be a need for more fishman towns. You've done a fantastic job of expanding your territory, and we've been having an influx of new fishmen as you know. Arlong Village is getting quite sizeable, and my opinion is we have enough fishmen in our civilian ranks to establish a new village now, here…" You point to one of the larger islands on the map. It's still a good distance from the Grand Line but has a few more trade routes and traffic. It is a recent acquisition, a real prize compared to the Conomi Islands, and that speaks of the expanding numbers of Arlong's supporters and his strength.

Not only that, but the city on that island brings even more tribute than Cocoyasi Village did back when it was under Arlong's control. Even though Nami's been gone for a while, you've kept an eye on the village, ensuring Arlong doesn't fuck with it. And he hasn't, partly because he's had plenty enough to distract him. He might not be lord of the entire East Blue, but he still controls much of it and has earned the respect and fear of various humans.

You’ve learned more about the history of Arlong’s presence here from various sources, including Hatchan and Nami. You understand that Arlong was in a lot of pain before, and he still carries a great deal of it, but he’s mellowed a bit. Part of that is because of you and your influence. He’s learned how to channel some of that energy into venues that will serve his empire better in the long run rather than using violence as a first response.

“I agree. As pleasant as Arlong Park is, given the reach of my territory, I know there will need to be more bases for the empire, and can be used as a trading hub to enrich our coffers." He grins to himself with pleasure as he looks at the map (it's one of Nami's), tracing his fingers along the paper. He looks like the shark he is, hungry, ready to devour the opportunities that come his way, eyes glinting as he assesses the map, the islands that belong to him marked off.

The island you’d been talking about is the southernmost of his territory, closer to the Grand Line than any of the others under his control, so it will need to be handled with care. More access to trade routes and the like means more potential for pirate or Marine interference.

“If I may humbly suggest, as you recently acquired this island, you put a pause to your expansion efforts?” you gesture to the swath of islands under his control. “We’ve had more issues with outsiders lately, so I think at this time we should focus all our efforts on defense rather than offense.”

He stares at you. “You think I should stop my expansion efforts?”

“Not forever, no. But I do believe that for the next few years, we should focus on strengthening what we do have and bringing more of our kind here. Moving a bunch of fishmen to the new island would stretch us thin in other places. You know we've been dealing with more intrusions, and that's a drain on our resources."

“Hmm." He frowns thoughtfully. You say nothing more – there is no need, for the seed has been planted – and rise from your seat to move behind him, rubbing his shoulders. He gives out a groan of satisfaction, head lolling back as you minister to him. You've learned that after times like this – meetings, going over correspondence, where Arlong has a lot to ponder – a good back rub often aids his mood and thinking process.

After a while, he tugs your arm, guiding you to his lap where he holds you, basking in the comfortable silence as you curl up into his lap, burying your face against his chest.

o0o0o0o

A clutch of fishmen – mostly escaped slaves – has recently arrived at Arlong Village. It's nothing you haven't dealt with before but for one thing. One of the fishmen has a human woman with him, and is refusing to let her go, and shows defensiveness at the snide comments a few local fishmen make in regards to the human, who you learn is also an escaped slave.

Plenty of humans are assholes, as you well know, but this poor woman, clinging to her fishman partner, certainly doesn’t seem like one. It’s clear from the fear in her eyes that she knows how precarious her situation is.

“I’m sure you must be hungry,” you say as you look at the haggard-looking group before you. “Please, enjoy the hospitality of the mighty Arlong the Saw,” you say, shifting into hostess mode. Once they’re settled and eating, you look back at Arlong. Before he can say anything, you speak.

“I know how you feel about humans, and I understand why. But as you’ve seen, humans have their uses...” You pause and stroke your chin. Even if cooperative humans can go by relatively unmolested by Arlong or his crew, their status is pretty low in the Arlong Empire. Arlong does not call them slaves, but they are not much more than. And as long as that goes on, that’s going to be an issue, and one that can weaken the emerging Arlong Empire from the inside. Humans can only be browbeaten so much before something snaps. History has shown that often enough, not just with humans, but with fishmen or other races as well.

“Look at them,” you say, gesturing to the couple. “They’re not the first, nor will they be the last mixed couple. And I do not think we should fight that. You’ve been here for a decade, and I’ve not even been here for two years. This is your empire and your crew. You set up in this place and did all this work before I came here. And as a fellow fishman, you know my loyalty.”

He looks at you with a measuring gaze. “I suppose you want me to give that human girl some sort of… leeway?”

“Why not? Look…" You are careful about what you say about his tribute system. "She didn't choose to be a human or a slave. But she chose to be with him, and he with her." Even as you say this, the fishman is sitting close to her, protective of her. And she welcomes that closeness, placing her hand on his knee "Look at him and her, don't their body language remind you of another couple…" There is no denying that Arlong and you are well acquainted with the comfort of simply being close to one another.

He grumbles at that, but you notice he doesn’t disagree. “Some countries grant citizenship to an outsider who marries one of their citizens,” you point out. “It could be a good way to foster friendly relations. Not everything has to be a fight.” Your hand slides up his arm.

“I will take it into consideration, little squid.”

You have to hold back a grin. That’s as good as a yes. “That is all I ask for,” you say, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you sit there, looking at the people before you.

[thepumpkincorsair]

Lunchbox Heroes Part 1: Assignment

This started out from a Writing Prompt, and I did the rough draft on tumblr over an hour of lunch. The rough draft got enough attention for me to actually go back, edit, and add to it. It went from 3 pages to 8. So.... have fun with where it went, and let me know if you'd like to read more!

TW: Violence, Gore, Language

The scent of blood isn’t something you ever forget, especially when it’s soaked into your skin, absorbed into your very being. You wake up in the morning and choke on the metallic scent, like your sheets are sticky with coagulated sanguine… pinning you in place as you slide past the slime to escape the cotton prison of your bed. It’s been 30 years. You were 6 when your parents died, and for 30 years… you've choked on their blood every morning.

Every night, you close your eyes and you’re 6 again, cowering in a closet. You can see the whole thing through the slats in the door, lit by the moon in the window. Crimson Ax, a brutal villain, had decided your mother’s research into Abilities was a potential detriment to him. Your mother had been researching how to suppress abilities. How to use certain technologies to create a dampening device, so Villains could be more easily contained, and so children like you would have the chance to grow into their abilities safely… The villains didn’t want to let anyone have that kind of technology. Crimson would never let anyone contain him… and for that, he killed both of your parents.

30 years ago, you were home sick. If you hadn’t, you would have been at daycare, blissfully ignorant to the truths of the world. You would have believed the news report released the next day, you would still have hope in the world… but you were home sick, and never did recover.

It happened incredibly fast, but in slow motion at the same time… you were eating a snack, watching tv on your parents bed, some cartoon on public broadcast. Your father had rushed into the room and shoved you in the closet, telling you to keep silent, no matter what happened. You’d never seen him so pale, so wide eyed… so terrified. Your mother’s scream downstairs silenced you immediately, and made you cling to him.

Your father, rest his soul, ripped your hands off of his clothes, pinning them to your sides, “Stay here, stay still, stay silent. I love you.” He knew what was coming. You didn’t.

He reached past you for the family’s shotgun, and shut the door, closing you in. Your mother ran into the room as he did. She was holding her shoulder, but her arm was hanging wrong… it was hanging too low… there was so much blood, her pink dress was now red. You wanted to run to her, but the blast of the shotgun made you fall back into the back of the closet, onto your father’s shoes, where you stayed, hidden by his shirts.

There was a deep, dark laugh as a mountain of a man walked into the bedroom. Dressed in red, wielding a massive ax in place of his left arm. A red helmet hid his face from view as he stepped forward, swinging the ax down on your mother’s back. Blood sprayed from her mouth as she fell to the carpet.

Your father shot again, knocking Crimson back a step before he just smiled. “I was considering letting you live… but shooting me twice? You’ve just gone and pissed me off.” He pulled the ax out of your mother’s lifeless body and took a step towards your father.

That was when the window shattered, and two new figures entered the bedroom, wearing their own masks. Heroes… or so you thought. Defendor and his sidekick, Power Pal, stood in the moonlight, catchphrases primed and ready to deliver, but Crimson Ax didn’t let them deliver it. He laughed, picking up your mother’s body, and throwing it at Defendor, before rushing Power Pal, and putting that Ax right into his gut.

“What a hero…” He crooned as he ripped the ax from Power Pal’s abdomen, spilled ropes of bloody intestines on the floor. What good do Abilities do when your insides are falling out?

Defendor was on the ground, your mother’s body still draped in his lap. Staring in shock towards his sidekick. He was one of the up and coming Heroes in your city. Newly signed to an agency, and making a name for himself taking down criminals and villains nearly on a daily basis. He was your favorite hero as a child… and he never even stood up.

That deep dark laugh just echoed into the night, as your father’s shaky hands tried to reload the shotgun. Two more blasts rang out into the night as Crimson lumbered back the 5 steps to your father… He screamed when Crimson’s hand closed around his head. He begged for help, he called to Defendor as Crimson began to hack away at him. He cried and sobbed, and you held your hands over your mouth, soaked in your own tears and piss, hiding in a closet.

When it was over… When your father’s screaming finally stopped… and the choking sounds of dying breaths had finally ceased… Defendor was still sitting there. Staring at the lifeless body of Power Pal, holding your mother.

“You heroes… you think the world revolves around what you want, and that you can shape it to fit your desires… but here is the truth: The world is cruel, and that cruelty will never be contained. Pandora opened her box at the beginning of time, and even then, the very gods knew it’s contents could never be contained again. In the end, we all die. In the end, evil always wins. Because there is no good in death.” He laughed the whole time as he turned and left, leaving Defendor to stare into the darkness, and you to stare into your father’s lifeless eyes.

You force yourself out of your sweat soaked sheets and get in the shower, attempting to get the scent of phantom blood out of your hair and skin. You were an adult now, with shit to do. You didn’t get to hide in closets anymore. The hot water of the shower helps you relax a bit, but also lets your mind slip back to why you slept so poorly every night.

The cops weren’t the first to arrive. It was a woman in a white suit. She walked into the room without you even noticing her, until she spoke.

“What the ever loving fuck happened here Defendor?”

He just stammered incoherently as she stepped over your father’s body, directly to the closet, directly to you. She opened the closet and stared down at you, covered in tears, piss, and choking on the scent of blood. She frowned, and picked you up. “And of course you saw the whole thing. Let’s get you away from here.”

It was then that you started sobbing, crying into her shoulder as she carried you out of the house and past a squad of people in tactical gear. “Get that useless sack out of there and clean that mess up. I want a proper statement written and I want the evidence to match. Do I make myself clear?”

They saluted, and rushed into the house as she was putting you in the back seat of a black car. “Take us to headquarters.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Turns out, that woman was a retired hero, who had moved into admin at Defendor’s agency. She kept you close to her for the next few weeks as the press tried to get to you. You saw her as protecting you. That she was keeping the vultures away… When it would come on television, she would turn it off. You thought she was protecting you from having to hear about your parents’ tragedy. She took you daily to a child psychologist, making sure you were stable mentally, and able to process what happened. You thought she was being kind. She was retired, but she was your Hero for now… when Defendor had failed you.

It took almost a year for the story to eventually fade into the back of people’s minds. For you and your parents to be forgotten… and that was when Alise decided you no longer needed her, and turned you over to the state. The foster system didn’t do therapy, or protect you from prying questions, they just placed you where they could, and told you good luck.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your short, black hair, and wipe off the mirror. You pick up a necklace, putting it back in its proper place around your neck. It’s a small obsidian broach with a gold chain. Unassuming, quaint even. Your mother had gifted this to you before she died. It was her prototype. A small switch on the back of the broach turned it on or off. You usually keep it turned on, unless you’re working. You smirk slightly at the memory of the stupid boy in your first foster home who thought he’d take it to bully you. The state was shocked to realize you had Abilities, and you were quickly moved. Your file was marked ahead of time for your subsequent foster families afterwards to never try to separate you from your necklace. You were put into special classes at school to learn your Ability, and as you turned 9, a number of agencies approached you, both hero, and villain.

Part of you seriously considered the villain route. It wasn’t like Heroes held any value to you… if anything, they could be considered more selfish and self centered than a number of the Villains who offered you an apprenticeship, but you have an undeniable stubborn streak, and chose to become a Hero when you turned 15, and signed an agency to become a sidekick.

Defendor had retired when you were 11, disappearing quietly into the populace with his identity intact. No one knew who he was, so finding him as a civilian was something you’d given up on long ago. Hero agencies protected their employees after retirement, so, going after him would also land you a Villain designation, making you an available target for every Hero you’d pissed off over the years. Crimson Ax remained active, but he’d changed territories, moving further south to terrorize Ashwell. When he retired just before you could get your Hero’s License at 20 and go after him, it felt like fate had cheated you. Villain agencies were even more brutal in protecting their retirees, and he just vanished, right before you could get your hands on him… There would be no revenge.

Your memories float through your mind as you pour cream into your coffee. As an adult, you have one of the highest capture rates of any hero, and your agency pays you well for it. Between the trust and your salary, you can look out your penthouse apartment and view a good portion of the city below you, and even catch the sunset once in a while when you’re home. It was a peaceful existence. Lonely, but peaceful. You couldn’t bring yourself to date anyone, or even consider a family. You had too many enemies, and too many memories of what happens to families. Friends were few and far between for much the same reason. There was simply work, something you took seriously. You wouldn’t fail as a hero, and you wouldn’t put others at risk simply for knowing you.

A chirp from your phone catches your attention. Its a text message from the Agency:

“Hero, Obsidian, please report to Headquarters for briefing on your next assignment as soon as possible.”

This makes you raise an eyebrow. Usually the agency will send a text to let you know they emailed a file over their secure network for you to review. When you were called in for a briefing it usually meant this was a high profile case, or that you were going to have a partner… which you’ve specifically said you won’t do multiple times, but they just love when they can put you on a team of heroes to make them look good.

You sigh and change into your uniform: knee high armored boots, armored leggings, and an armored motorcycle jacket. You reach into your drawer and pull out a cowl, pulling it over your head to hide your face, tucking your short black hair up into it, and away from your eyes. On your way out the door you grab a black motorcycle helmet. You refuse to do the spandex thing.

The ride to the Agency is a relatively short one, especially when you can weave traffic at whatever speed you want. As a registered hero, you get away with a lot ‘in the name of justice.’

You park at a rundown noodle shop, pull off your helmet, and wave at the older woman serving up steaming bowls of ramen. She raises an eyebrow, “You got here fast.”

“Your text said ASAP.”

She eyes your bike the same way you imagine a judgemental aunt would, “I suppose that’s true. They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

You nod and continue to the back of the shop, moving carefully through the hot kitchen, carrying your helmet. Past the kitchen, in a pantry, was a set of stairs leading down into your personal hell.

In the sub basement is an elevator. You weigh your options of joining the two other heroes waiting for it, or taking the 40 flights of stairs down… Your practicality wins out, and you approach them.

“Hey, Obi. I rarely ever see you here.” The GOAT waves at you with a stupid grin on his goat shaped face. You often wonder how his mother reacted when his Ability manifested… or if he’d been born with it… and then you had more questions that you didn’t want to think of. You give him a raised hand of a wave, and stand quietly, hoping to avoid the conversation.

“Yea, what did they drag you in for? Another Alien invasion?” Anvil was one of those with a head as dense as his skin… practically made of iron.

“Didn’t say, just called me in.” You don’t like talking to these two… they were the definition of meat-heads, and they thought the world loved them.

“Well, I hope it’s another invasion, I’d love to get on another team. You know, my comics started selling almost double when we were teamed up that time.” Anvil nudged you with an elbow, trying to be friendly.

Sales and Royalties… how Heroes really made money, and why they signed to agencies. You needed a PR manager, a Products manager, Lawyers scarier than the Devil himself, and Insurances no one could afford in their wildest dreams.

Action figures, and figures in general were still some of the highest selling things. Some of the Heroes were also musical artists, or comedians, but rarely actors. No one wanted to see Romeo and Juliet performed by people in masks. Only the Heroes willing to give up their identities were really successful in their acting careers. You didn’t want that. You never removed your cowl. No one needed to know who you were, and who you’d like to hunt.

The elevator finally dinged and opened for them, putting a pause on the conversation as they filed into the metal box to go down 400 feet into the earth. When they closed, cheap elevator music began to fill the box as it squeaked and creaked its way down the dark shaft into the Lunchbox Heroes Headquarters.

“I heard something the other day, that they were pulling together some elites for something big. I wonder if you made the cut, Obi.” GOAT was not gonna let this go… was he…

“I’ll probably turn it down, I do 90% of the time.”

“If the risk is high enough, you won’t.” GOAT betrayed himself with that one. You look up into his animalistic eyes and spot it at the back, fear. When you agreed to team up with people, it meant the risk was real. It wasn’t something you’d ignore, and that worried him.

You raise an eyebrow at him as the elevator comes to a stop, and opens, filling with a few admin workers, some of them also masked, but most of them not. The three of you say no more on the topic, but you continue to watch GOAT as the elevator descends deeper, stopping again, where the worker bees got out, followed by GOAT and Anvil, “Good luck.” Anvil gives you a final wave as the doors shut, leaving you alone to go down to the deepest floor.

When you step off the Elevator, you're greeted with a locked door, and a retinal scanner. Your cowl doesn’t cover your eyes, so you lean down, and are granted access to the hallway beyond. Retinal scanners guaranteed the right people were allowed into the right places, and could be updated from a computer on one of the admin floors. Most days, you didn’t have access to this floor. You step into the concrete hallway, painted white, and approach the reception desk, your boots echoing on the hard floor. “Obsidian, reporting.”

The masked woman behind the desk looks down at a sheet, and finds your name, “Room 16, on the left.”

You thank her and head that direction. The briefing rooms were kept on lockdown because of the sensitive information shared. One time, you’d been left to wait nearly 4 hours between the arrivals of each person in a 5 part team, because the agency didn’t want the fact that you were teaming up to become known.

Room 16 looks identical to room 14 and room 18 on either side of it, or room 17 across from it. There was no way to tell what you were walking into. With a final deep breath, you open the door, prepared to be greeted by a group of young, overzealous heroes wanting desperately to work with you.

Instead, you’re greeted by Alise. Now much older, her blonde hair had gone gray, and her face sagged with age. But she stood just as straight and tall as ever, and still commanded a room with just her eyes. You’d only met with her a handful of times since joining the very agency that screwed you over all those years ago. You’d hoped someone, anyone would let slip where Defendor had retired to. Would give a hint as to who he was, what he was doing… but they never did.

“This must be good, for you to come down here yourself,” you scoff as you take a seat at the table before her. The room was arranged like a lecture hall, with a screen at the front for briefing information, and a desk in front of you to take whatever notes you wanted, or to lay out the files in front of you.

“I believed this was a briefing best delivered personally.”

“Is anyone else coming?”

“They should be here shortly.” She sat on a stool at the front of the room, “How have you been?”

“You read my reports.”

“They’re very thorough. I appreciate the dedication to detail.” She tapped the file in front of her, clearly the file in question for today. “But your reports don’t tell me how you are, aside from physically.”

“I pass every psych eval I’m given,” you frown behind your mask, “Why are you prying?”

“You’ll be taking another eval before you leave today.”

Bitching about them never did you any good, so you just cross your arms. “Tell me why.”

It was then that the door behind you opened again, and four men in suits entered, escorting an older man in a blue spandex suit with a red cape, and a red mask… Defendor. He had to be in his 50’s at this point. You could see his red hair had begun to turn white, and he’d clearly gained weight… Spandex was never kind. You didn’t take your eyes off him as he was escorted to a seat at the table next to you. He paused at pulling out the chair next to you, instead moving two seats down, and sitting there.

Alise stood up and took a deep breath, “I am aware that this is going to be an interesting situation for you, Obsidian, but I want you to hear me out, to the end, before you say anything.”

Your eyes snap to her as rage begins to well up in your body. You were conflicted on your choice of still having your broach switched to ‘off.’

The older woman picked up a remote, and turned on the screen behind her, “Crimson Ax has returned, and is wreaking havoc in Oakham. It looks like he has a sidekick now too, someone we haven’t seen before, but it appears she’s an Iron-Skinned type.” Pictures of Crimson Ax and his new protoge flick past your eyes. He still wore the red armor and helmet. She wore similar armor, but didn’t have any missing appendages. She just carried her own ax.

“Does she have a name yet?” You hear your voice leave your throat, but it doesn’t feel like you speaking. You hold your hand out for a file, but don’t feel in control of your own body as you flip it open to find her name at the top of a sheet, “Chopper? She calls herself The Crimson Chopper?!”

“They’ve victimized 4 banks, 3 drug stores, and 6 families in the last 3 days.” Alise’s voice was flat, just providing facts, no opinions. “Crimson has taken out every Hero he’s ever nemesized, except Defendor.”

Your eyes shot to the silent man next to you, and your lip curled, “Sure, because he ran away before he could get killed.”

The disgraced hero just stared into his lap, saying nothing.

“Defendor retired.”

“Was pushed into retirement.” you correct her, still glaring the failed hero down, “What hero, still in perfect health, with an active nemesis, would willingly retire of his own accord?”

Defendor’s wince only confirmed your suspicions.

“How many times did the Agency have to cover up your cowardice?” You growl through grinding teeth.

“Obsidian.” Alise smacked her hand on the desk, breaking your eye contact on him, “Your involvement in this case was requested by me. Do not make me regret that choice. Or I will go get Valkyrie right now.”

You quell yourself and sit back into your chair, “I won’t work with him.”

“You will, because to get close to them, you’ll need to change uniforms.” Alise hit the controller and revealed two uniforms, matching. Blue armored leather suits, one with a red cape, the other with a red skirt. What flair… yours at least came with another cowl, your identity clause required that much. 

“What the fuck are those?” you ask, already knowing the answer, but wanting to release your indignity in some fashion.

“Defendor has returned from retirement to take on the Crimson Ax once more, and his new sidekick, Thundera, will be assisting him.” Alise was not backing down on her plan. “We need Crimson to come to you, on your terms, and he’s only going to be baited by this. Once he follows the two of you into an ambush, coordinated with the Agency, we will drop an entire league of heroes on him at once.”

“Call Valkyrie, I’ll just join the ambush,” you close the file and shove it across the table back towards her.

Alise pinched the bridge of her nose, “She’s harder to disguise as a sidekick.”

“You mean her ego won’t fit in the costume.”

“I’m beginning to question if yours will.” Alise frowns at you. “I need someone who can handle two iron-skins coming at them at once, and hold their own, and potentially defend others. Is that you? Or is that someone else?”

You scoff, “Potentially defend others… you want me to protect him,” you thumb in Defendor’s direction, “May as well change his name to ‘Defended’ while you’re at it.”

“Sending you in as his sidekick, they won’t see you coming.”

You take the file, glaring at her, “I don’t promise they’ll make it to the ambush.”

“I know that.”

You have a reputation for bringing back your villains in a body bag.

“Do… Do I have to do this? Don’t you have someone… active? Who could just… wear the name?” He spoke… for the first time he spoke, and you turned again to glare at him.

“You don’t think Crimson would know if it’s you or not?” Alise crossed her arms, “You owe this to the agency, at the very least.”

He melted into himself and you sneered, contemplating on how well you’d actually defend the great Defendor when the two of you found your quarry.

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

A/N: shameless self plug, but if you'd like to read this in a PDF format, I'll be adding it to my Ko-Fi for $0.10, and I'll take suggestions on where else to post it.

[good-bye-bear]

Okay, after a nights sleep I'm less mad about tumblr nuking my post before I could ever hit the post button.

The Ravening War

(Spoilers)

I think that Raphaniel and Karna dying to the Disposal, being the two that were more closely tied to the bulb and the hungry one, made their deaths at the hand of this third unimaginable force very poetic.

Karna and her extremely close ties to death via the rot and the hungry one; and Raphaniel being close to death via his visions and his vacant ramblings of calls to the singularity that was in his visions. To end up where they did, it was a story of futility. That no matter how well you did or how well you prepared, sometimes it's just not enough and never would have been.

Then there's Deli, hoo boy. I loved the theme of helplessness with him. Such a huge force to be reckoned with on a physical scale but finding himself in a place where things are so much more complicated. To spend most of his life just doing what he thought he needed and to find out that none of it has ever really worked for him. It's a return to the theme of futility, and when he finally comes to terms with that he decides to not be a part of it. I think in the end, while under the guise of trying to save his only 2 other friends, Deli wanted to die. So when it was time to go back to this life that he finally was able to see through, he couldn't do it. So he walked into the north and became an outlander.

Without Lou's input we can never know. but to me it felt like Deli was upset that he lived when 2 of his friends did not and that, alongside his realization of his willingness and enthusiasm to be a pawn, made him wish he died in that tunnel. That his friends would have lived.

Amangeaux seemed like she just wanted to be vindicated in any and everything to me, and she would mimic those around her to do it. She attempted to become a political authority, to become queen, because that's who was around her and it was the life she knew. When she found that she was maybe not as battle hardened as the others, she sought to become like them. Training to become stronger. Even at the very end, she seemed to only follow and mimic those around her. Where in she kept trying to reach out, to the mycelium, for answers instead of just making decisions.

I feel like it shows her lack of control and influence. She started this game as probably the most powerful person in the world of Calorum (As Queen) and to see that she never really knew how to wield it or use it. She lost in her identity from the very beginning and it shows in her epilogue where she choses to become spymaster to Uvano because she doesn't know what else to do. So she latches onto someone else to keep herself going.

Maybe there's a metaphor for co-dependency there too but I feel the helplessness and loss or lack of identity is the big play.

Then there is Provolone. The man who seemed to just be along for the ride. He did not come from nobility or power, he did not seek fame or fortune, he never wished to deal in fate and prophecy. Yet he was found to be right in the middle of it all and to be the one that struck down the avatar was beautiful.

All he ever wanted to do was just get by. He was happy just selling his sword and doing whatever he felt was right in the moment. He never played games with the powers that be because he did not want to tempt anything bad. He always seemed to let the things around him bend and shape him but never change him.

But in those final moments, because he did not try to play at some grand design or try to tempt fate or forge his name into the history books, it seems that fate had chosen him to be the one to end the Disposal.

~~~~~

This is all speculation based on my interpretations of the characters and what I watched. I can be wrong, and in fact maybe am completely wrong, but this is what I took away.

It was an amazing game and it was a beautiful love note to the world of Calorum. Even though I'm not a huge fan of Mercer's DM style, I think he did great here. Maybe he didn't go into as much depth with things as Brennan might but he still did well.

I can't wait to see more crossovers and hopefully more guests dancing through the dome.

~~~~~

Another aside, or P.S.S. or whatever.

Raphaniel was my clear favorite, if only because Brennan with his wide knowledge of the word was able to create just the most unhinged holy many ever. And to be honest I love that.

But Karna get's an extremely close 2nd place. She was just a girl trying to make it in a world that was maybe just a little too big for grand plans she had in mind. But that never stopped her from trying. Also Aabria just makes amazing characters all the time.

[mechanicalinertia]

Bubblegum Black mega-ish chapter notes: Chapters 9-12

Yes, that's right! If you only follow me through tumblr, you probably thought I was dead! But no, I just chose to hold off on my usual notes-post until I'd finished the ridiculously long and complicated battle between Hotel Moscow versus D-Company. So the notes will be for four fucking chapters now.

Also, for the record, I'm probably going to stop just posting these on tumblr, and start mirroring them to SpaceBattles or Sufficient Velocity. I mean, how many people have a tumblr account that will let them read all the way through? Not many, I imagine. Well, let's get into it.

CHAPTER 9

The OCs: So! New characters, hm? I don't think they'll be playing a major role in the fic for the most part, but once I figured that Balalaika would have experience operating a powersuit - not because of any particular reason beyond the assumption that they existed during the Kazakh conflict, and then that she needed a way to stand alongside the Sabers in mecha-fighting - then I thought it would be fun to have other suit operators that were Balalaika's comrades-in-arms and thus people the Sabers could fight alongside too. It helped me, in turn, figure out how to humanize Hotel Moscow just a bit, having these specific people with specific talents.

KB-43 Oktyabr: The predecessor to the ADP's K-suits, the Model 43 'Walking Armor' was drafted as a mechanized system in between World War 3 - when light power armor was used for individual infantry protection and lugging heavy equipment - and the Kazakh conflict. UralVagonZavod, the developers, were flush with Chinese money and talent, the alliance between China and Russia supposedly ironclad - the only problem was that Russians hated UVZ for their top-attack vulnerable tanks, the ones that were not so impressive in the Ukraine war and were even less impressive during the botched attacks on Finland and Poland. Building the first powersuits, then, was a last-ditch attempt to not have Russia's legendary tank-building house liquidated and folded into other parts of the Rostec state defense conglomerate. It worked. KB-suits might require more maintenance than other powersuits, might lack the versatility or strength of more modern K-suits, but they're a bit like AK rifles in that regard. They're just fucking everywhere. Also, they're literally just the Russian Arms Boris ACPA from Cyberpunk 2020:

KB-65 Nasyschat: 'Saturate' in Russian, appropriate for its light artillery capabilities. This is the Russian Arms Bombardier ACPA from Cyberpunk 2020. Note that in both armor's cases I've severely reduced the amount of weapons they carry. This can either be read as a concession to Hotel Moscow not having the logistical might of the old Russian army, or just acknowledging that the amount of weapons an ACPA can carry is fucking goofy. Most ACPA could squish even 2077 Adam Smasher with ease. It's wild.

GSh-30-V: The 30mm cannon the Boris uses in CP2020, but built by the KBP boys as a rifle (hence the V) patterned off old Gryazev-Shipunov autocannons. I'm sure that this realistically does not make sense. Eh.

KPV: 14.5mm machine gun. Note my joy in turning old Russian guns into powersuit weapons. Ha ha ha. hoo hoo hoo. hee hee hee.

Semi-auto incendiary-flechette shotgun: This, in retrospect, makes no sense. The ammo doesn't make sense and neither does the use of shotguns to take down armor. Well, what the hell. Once again, I blame Cyberpunk 2020's humongazoid 'borg / ACPA weapons, specifically the United Arms CLAW, a 4-gauge mag-fed autoshotgun. If anything I've toned that fucking monstrosity down a bit by making it semi-auto. Kinda like the KS-23, another Russian goofy-gun, now that I think about it.

Instrument Vzloma: Breaching instrument. Which is hardly an appropriate term for a man-sized axe wielded by a giant powersuit, but what the hell.

Balalaika's speech, getting inside Balalaika's head in general: I actually don't want to say much here; the speech, and her internal monologue, should speak for themselves.

Tou Chi The Blaster: Real Black Lagoon character, for those of you who don't know the manga / anime. Kinda one of a million loser gunmen with big attitudes and bigger addiction problems in Roanapur.

More Regrets: Considering how big the missiles are in IRL anti-ship missile boats, I think my image of almost a missile turret for the 2069 Black Lagoon is a smidge off. Obviously the boat's much bigger than an Elco, but its ordnance is much bigger too, right? Yeah. Well, what the hell. Sci-fi tech.

Rock's guns: The shotgun in question is an SASM-18, a futuristic retread of the mag-fed semi-auto SPAS-15, using a motorized cocking system to replace the pump-action switch for specialty rounds so one need only pull the trigger. Oh, and eight shells instead of six. As for the Type-37... I have plans for a detailed look at what's basically Rock's 'hero gun' going forward, even if said gun is somewhat impractical. But I kind of want to put them in an actual chapter instead of dumping them to the side here. So let's put a pin in that for now.

Lena meditating: I know I've said this before someplace, but I'll say it again: It's strange that 2032 Linna's prowess as a melee expert supposedly comes from her aerobics and dance training, and not just plain ol' martial arts. (and then 2040 Linna has no talents either way, but that's beside the point). I still think it'd be nifty if Lena had martial arts training, was still a vain materialistic yuppie but also good at keeping her body in tip-top shape through various techniques. Fuck, now I'm remembering a bit I read of Shawn Hagen's BGC Shadowrun crossover where she just got muscle grafts. How tasteless. And, again, yes, the Sabers are superheroes, of course they're going to rescue people soldiers would write off as dead.

Duhmin, and Roanapur's history: I like this bit of writing. But it explains itself, really. I rewrote the opening of this scene like three times, by the way.

CHAPTER 10

Marya Zaleska: One of Hotel Moscow's big cargo ships (presumably able to carry some weapons at some point) in canon.

Swimmer Rounds: Are apparently a real thing! I think if you look for the most recent Nammo ammunition catalogue you can find them somewhere in there. Wild shit.

Icewolf: So, here's some lore about how hacking works in this cyberpunk-y universe! The old internet was bricked by cyberweapons, not by Bartmoss, and now crude memetic organisms, evolving from those old pieces of software like microbes, are bred, learned from, weaponized for various purposes. In an age where computers are explicitly brain-structured (ie neuromorphic), it makes sense to go for biological metaphors, I think. Like... like Hacker Pokemon? Is that too trite?

Tardigrade: No, there is no prior fic where this type of Boomer showed up, but I really enjoy the idea of the Sabers having had enough adventures that a lot of things that show up in this fic don't necessarily surprise them all that much. Anyway, incoming miniboss encounter!

The Boomer / Powersuit: The thing Balalaika fights here is heavily inspired by the D.D. Mass Production Type, a scribble found in the B-Club and then in the BGC RPG EX book:

Weirdly enough, according to both the B-Club and the RPG, this was a never-seen design for a Battlemover, but I swear I've seen it in an establishing shot of GENOM Tower's entrance in OVA 6. I don't understand what's going on - is it the same thing? I want to believe it is.

47C Kappa Boomers: Not much to say about these. They're there.

CHAPTER 11

Oh boy oh boy oh boy: Rock finally killed someone himself! What fun! What excitement! I suppose it has to happen in every longer Black Lagoon fic. And I suppose Rock never gets to feel very good about it. And I suppose... what else? I think Revy's reaction was about right here. I really ought to chill on Depression!Rock for a bit, but that'll wait until the next arc.

KA-77: Basically the Russian version of the Bell V-280, the tiltrotor replacement for military helicopters, kitted out with gunship weapons. Fun fact: Tiltrotors don't actually have a worse safety record than helicopters. For a near-future sci-fi setting, they're a much more sensible new VTOL than vectored-thrust vehicles like the Harrier jumpjet or the AVs from Cyberpunk the franchise. Then again, BGC has those really cool-looking enclosed-fan 'aerodynes' the ADP use all the time, so that's an entirely different form of VTOL I didn't use...

Junayd Lakhani: The man himself! He's kind of a preening weenie! That's kind of the point! Also, yes, I resorted to an MGSV-style Fulton recovery system almost as a joke that became a real thing. I do not regret this.

CHAPTER 12

Honestly, I think I've got enough here. Things work out, they explain themselves, and I don't feel like writing extremely long notes for these chapters anymore. Let's just vibe, for now.

[falcqns]

marjorie

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Morgan Stark & Tony Stark

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the more Morgan grows, the more she misses her dad.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of endgame, grief, angst, post endgame

✰ 𝐚/𝐧: tagging @natashasera ! i’ll miss you forever, tony 🫶🏼

don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

Never be so clever, you forget to be kind

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were talking to me now

When her father first died, Morgan didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why everyone was upset, why everyone was wearing black, why her mom slept on the couch or with her instead of in her bed.

More than anything, Morgan didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t with her. Why he wasn’t downstairs in the morning, making her pancakes, and drinking his green smoothie like he did every morning? Why wasn’t he the one comforting her after a nightmare or when she’s sick? She loved her mother, she truly did, but where did her father go?

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

What died didn't stay dead

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

As Morgan grew, she began to understand. She still fully didn’t understand, but she was able to grasp the concept of her father was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. At first, she thought that she did something wrong to make her dad leave, but her mom squashed that immediately.

“Your father didn’t leave because he didn’t love us,” she had said. “He left because he had to. Because it was between his one life, and the life of half of the universe. He died to save us, to make sure you got to live the life he imagined for you.”

And while Morgan understood what her dad did, it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make her any less mad when she saw Nick Fury or Sam Wilson, knowing that it could have been them instead, and that she would still have her dad. It didn’t hurt any less when she addressed father’s day cards to Uncle Happy or her big brother Peter, or even to her mom. It didn’t hurt any less, seeing her classmates and friends with their fathers knowing she’ll never have that.

What died didn't stay dead

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

Although Morgan struggled with this, with knowing she lost her father at such a young age, she didn’t let it show. No one told her she had to be strong for her mother, but when she came downstairs, on May 29th, 2024, and sees her mother holding a picture of her and her father when she was a baby while crying, she wanted to make sure her mom never had to worry about her.

And so, she started to hide the pain she felt, while telling herself it was better this way, this way her mom didn’t have to worry about her.

Never be so polite, you forget your power

Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were listening to me now

And Morgan thought she was doing a good job. She thought that no one could tell, that everyone assumed she had moved passed it.

And for a while, she was doing a good job. She kept her pain to herself. Only cried in the dead of the night or when home alone, or on the day that her father passed.

That all ended, when her junior prom just so happened to fall on October 17th. And then, just like leaves fall from the trees, all those walls she had built up came crashing down around her in a pile.

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

Morgan was getting ready for homecoming, and everything was fine. She put on her dress, had her makeup, hair and nails done, and felt prettier than she had ever felt in her 16 years of life. She put her shoes on, and made her way down the stairs, where her date Ryan, who had also been her best friend since first grade, was waiting for her.

Her mom complimented her, told her how beautiful she was and how much she loved her. Morgan could see the longing just behind the loving gaze in her mothers eyes. The longing for her father to be there, standing with her as she goes off to her first prom. She smiled warmly at her mother, and hugged her for a little longer than she normally would, trying to tell her that everything would be okay; that she had done a great job without him, and that he’d be as proud as she was for raising her as a single parent.

After a few pictures with her mom, Ryan, her brother Peter and her Uncle Happy, Morgan and Ryan were in the back of her moms car, being driven to the winery where prom was taking place.

Morgan was a little sad that her dad wasn’t here for this, but that was something that she had gotten used to. She had gotten used to seeing the empty chair next to her mom at her baseball games, at her dance recitals, at her gym meets. She had gotten used to the empty, untouched spot on the sofa that seemed to taunt her as she opened presents on Christmas and her birthday; and had gotten used to the muffled cries from her mom on those same days.

What she hadn’t gotten used to was seeing everyone else with their fathers, and her not having one. She knew almost everyone else in her grade had dads in some way, but to be faced with it on what was supposed to be a happy night, was really tough for Morgan to deal with. She wanted nothing more than her dad to be the one embarrassing her with her date who was definitely just a friend and who she definitely has not been in love with since 2nd grade, a year after they met. She wanted to hear her dad tell her she was beautiful, that she had made him proud, that while he hated seeing her grow up, he was loving who she was becoming.

But she couldn’t have that. The other girls in her class had that; but she didn’t.

She made it through the pictures by biting her tongue, and avoiding all the other girls in her class, but wasn’t as lucky after dinner had finished and the slower music began to play.

By the time the song “Candle In The Wind” started playing, Morgan felt like she was a house being held together by still-wet glue; one wrong move and she’d be falling apart, letting the entire world what was wrong on the inside.

Ryan convinced her to go dance, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay as the song played on. She just had to hold it together until the end of the song, then she could go to the bathroom, cry a little bit, fix her makeup, and everything would be fine.

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

And then, Elton John sang the words “and i would have liked to have known you, but i was just a kid.” and a tear spilled over. Suddenly, she was powerless to stop them coming, despite her earlier strength. She bowed her head, trying to hide the tears from Ryan, but Ryan had always been able to sense when something was wrong with her.

“Hey,” He whispered, pulling her closer. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She also knew she couldn’t lie to him, so she didn’t. “No,” she whimpered, and Ryan wasted no time in dragging her off the dance floor, and leading her outside. He wrapped her in a hug, and let her cry.

She also knew that Ryan knew what was wrong, which she was grateful for. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed and what she was thinking, which made being his friend 10x easier.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know?” Ryan whispered. “Getting this far, with his last name, and not being expelled.” He joked, and Morgan laughed. “You’re the top of our class in every subject, you have an awesome best friend, and you have a family who supports you no matter what. He’d be so proud.”

Morgan sniffled. “It hurts,” She said. “Seeing our classmates with their dads. Knowing that they have someone they can call dad, someone they can go to for things they can’t go to their moms about. I don’t have that, and I hate it.”

Ryan hugged her tighter. “I know.” He whispered.

“I miss it. I miss it all. All aspects of having a dad. I miss him even though I barely had him.” She continued. “I barely had him, and I barely know him because it hurts to much to learn about him, even though there’s nothing more that I want in this world than to truly know my father.”

Ryan shrugged. “I know. I cant imagine what this feels like, and you have full permission to hit me if this isn’t what is going to help;” he said, prompting a giggle from Morgan. “but maybe, it would help if you did learn about him. If you did talk to your mom, to your brother and uncle, read things about him. It might help you to feel closer to him if you know him.”

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

“Hi dad.” Morgan said, sitting down in front of her fathers headstone. “I’m sorry that I haven’t visited before now,” She began. “I never really had someone to take me before, and I know it’s too hard for Mom, Peter and Uncle Happy to come here. And, it was just too hard for me too. Knowing that you’re here, but that I can see you, or hold your hand. But, I’ve realized that that was just hurting me more, not knowing who you are and not talking to you.”

Morgan took a deep breath, before telling her father all about her life. About her accomplishments, about what she liked, and about Ryan. About how she had loved him for so long but didn’t know how to tell him, and that she wished he was here so that she could know what Ryan might be thinking. She told him that she missed him, and that even though she only had him for 4, they were the best 4 years.

“You were my best four years, Dad.” She said, letting the tear run down her face. “I miss you more and more everyday.”

She stayed a little bit longer, not wanting to leave. But, when the sun started to touch the horizon, she knew it was time to head home. She touched the headstone once more, promising to herself that she would come back more often.

“I love you 3000, Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

She opened the car door, and Ryan smiled at her.

“How was it?” He asked.

Morgan nodded with a smile. “You were right. It did help.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” he teased, making Morgan laugh as they pulled away from the cemetery, heading back home.

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Morgan looked out her window, seeing all of the parents saying goodbye to their children.

It was her freshman year at MIT, and she had never felt so ready; so at peace. She had been given her fathers old dorm. And although he hadn’t set foot in this room for years, it still felt like him, and it calmed her. She would miss her Mom like crazy, but she felt safe, knowing she was following in her fathers footsteps.

Her eyes fell onto her forearm, where she had the words “i love you 3000, my Maguna” in her dads handwriting were inked into her skin. It had been her moms idea on her 18th birthday. he had written it on her 18th birthday card, which he wrote the night before him and the Avengers won. She got it tattooed that very same day, and that small little tattoo had become her lifeline.

It no longer hurt, seeing fathers with their children. She felt a longing, something she knew she always would, but it didn’t break her in two like it once did.

Her eyes moved to her left hand, and she smiled. She knew that the man who had gave her the beautiful diamond ring that sat on her ring finger had a lot to do with that, and she couldn’t be happier.

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

“Hi Dad,” Morgan said, sitting down, trying to be careful of the newborn in her arms, and the scar on her stomach that was still healing. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here last week, this little one decided to make his arrival sooner than planned.” She said, looking down at her son with a smile.

“We named him after you.” She said. “Theodore Anthony Stark. Theo for short.” She smiled. “And yes, Ryan took your last name, we got the paperwork finalized. He wanted us to share a name, but didn’t want me giving up your name, so he took yours. Hope that’s okay.”

Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ryan was going to be here, but he somehow got suckered into moving some furniture for Mom, and I know for a fact that you had something to do with that.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry you won’t get to see him grow up, but I know you’ll always be looking out for him. And I promise to talk about you as much as possible, and to make sure he knows that had it not been for you, he wouldn’t have existed. Thank you for your sacrifice, Dad. It brought me Ryan, and then Theo. I miss you,” she said.

“I think I’ll miss you forever,” she continued. “But I know you’ll always be with me.”

“I love you 3000, Dad.”

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

I know better

But I still feel you all around

I know better

But you're still around

[jiwoomk]

hi everyone! first let me start off by saying congratulations to the admins on the grand opening of magickai! i'm super excited to be among the first few apps/muses accepted tonight and can't wait to start writing with everyone!

i'm em {21+, she/her, central} and i play (obviously) kim jiwoo here! i'm still working on her pages such as the one for her background and her plots but i'll be getting to those either tonight or tomorrow for sure! until then i can at least give you her profile page with the few basics and even some info down below which will hopefully help a little with plotting/threading something out for now! i'm mostly available nights and weekends (my weekends consist of friday, saturday and sunday) though if you ever need to reach me feel free to hit me up on tumblr dm's, discord (available upon request) or twitter (upon request). for now, i'll be listing a few facts about jiwoo here to get us going, maybe even add in a few connection opportunities as well which will be labelled as so.

if you'd like to plot, feel free to even like this post and i'll come find you! i can't wait to get jiwoo out there and can't wait to start writing with all of you!!

jiwoo was sort of known as the 'black sheep' growing up in her family. her older brother was always the 'genius' of the family even when it came to getting his powers/companion, mastering his abilities a bit quicker than most.

because she was mostly pushed to the side, even more so when her brother would bring home awards/certificates from school, jiwoo was basically free to just do whatever she wanted while growing up. she didn't have to worry about really getting good grades (though she still did excel in her classes but never expected any sort of appraisal from her family), she would even often hang out with the 'wrong crew' while in middle and high school.

even though her brother was known as the 'favorite child', the two of them still were close. he would even do what he could to try and get jiwoo in the so-called spotlight, but his efforts never worked and their parents focused solely on him. jiwoo never once despised her brother because it wasn't really his fault that their parents preferred their son over their daughter. {open connection for an older brother | junior+}

it wasn't until she gained her powers that her parents finally gave some sort of acknowledgment of her existence, though it was only because they found out that she was able to manipulate curses. they were only worried that they would end up being cursed by their own daughter, but it was even more apparent that they wanted nothing to do with her, even more so when they were quick to 'ship her off' to jeju as soon as enrollment day came around.

after that day, not once did her family contact or visit her, nor did they invite her to family gatherings. the only way she found out that these events were even happening where from her older brother, though maybe due to their bond or his own reasons he never would attend these family gatherings. rather he would spend time with her, the two celebrating the holiday's together instead.

despite still having her brother around, especially since the two now attended the same school, jiwoo only used her parents' lack of love for her to help push her forward. she was determined to better her own skills, both magically and physically, and vowed that she would show them one day that they were wrong for the mistreatment that they gave her over the years.

jiwoo's weapon (or rather weapons) consists of dual pistols. one of the pistols is black while the other is a more white/silver, both with gold accents/trimming and different designs on both. at first she wasn't too sure about wielding around guns in a fight, but over a short time she grew used to the two pistols, so much so that she now frequently practices with them when she's alone.

there's only a select few that jiwoo willingly got close to/befriended over her time at the school so far, though when it comes to others she's not really someone to take the time to actually approach them. it could be because of how she grew up, getting used to just the loneliness and accepting it, though no one really knows what's going on inside of her head half of the time. {possible connection of friends + some enemies who think she's arrogant | open to anyone + multiple}

when jiwoo isn't busy working or practicing, she can mostly be found either gaming or taking photographs during her downtime. it's her way of relaxing and giving herself some time to clear her mind, even more when she's stressed or feeling 'down'.

jiwoo is very blunt with her own words, often times being a little too blunt and not realizing it until she's said something wrong, though she's also stubborn and will refuse to openly apologize. maybe you'll get a note later on with "i'm sorry" on it but who knows.

her fashion mostly consists of more comfortable/casual clothing, partially because of having to wear a uniform of sorts while bartending at her job.

she's the type who will defend those she cares for and is close to, basically she'll fight anyone who dares harm those she has an attachment to.

there's more to jiwoo here but i'll leave those small details to her pages (when i finish them) and plotting dm's!

[noiretbug]

[image IDs in alt text]

bringing this sideblog back from the dead to talk about the au that won't leave my brain. can NOT stop thinking about ladybug persona au...

i was thinking about maybe swapping in adrien as the protagonist bc there's usually several jokes about persona protags being "generic" and it could be a nod towards adrien being very moldable bc i wouldn't transfer sentimonsters to this au but. maybe i'll find smth different to give him to represent that. maybe smth resembling the p5 akechi arc? we'll come back to it

all in all though i decided marinette deserves to stay protag, not only because that's her rightful place but also because her unmatched ability to wield multiple miraculous powers easily translates to the protagonist ability to have multiple personas.

as for the fashion choices above, this is my imagining of what their "phantom thieves" outfits would be if i went with a metaverse mechanic that most resembles p5. i personally like the idea of something more like the tv-metaverse in p4 but the p5 fashion is so good and these characters deserve that so here we are. anyways.

marinette gets a coat that is both impressive and practical, because as a fashion designer she knows what looks good but as ladybug she knows what works well. i'd like to rethink how the wings on the back would be made, but as of right now i'm imagining like. a layer of that holographic stuff they make those skirts and jackets out of? with some embroidery around the edges of it to make it secure in a pretty way.

adrien's outfit is a mess on purpose i promise. because if i’m pulling from persona 5 for outfit inspiration, the phantom thieves outfits are based on the characters internal perception of what their image of rebellion looks like. and i just think the natural process for daddy issues adrien is committing fashion crimes as an act of rebellion. so he gets a crop top with camo pants and a ripped up gold jacket :) is this objectively a bad look? not necessarily! but would gabriel hate it? absoLUTEly. and that's what counts >:3

alya's outfit is simple because her sense of justice is simple. she believes in seeking out the truth and exposing it. hence she gets an outfit that is good for blending in and getting info on the ground. not necessarily what works in a metaverse situation, but none of the game outfits apply like that either so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

she still deserved some cool details though, so she got her miraculous embroidered on the cargo pockets of her pants, some heart frames, and the stitching on most of the seams is orange.

this au is still not super fleshed-out, but i NEED to talk about it bc i need more people to be thinking about it and going insane with me thanks

(the fashion sketches above heavily rely on templates from prêt-à-template on the apple app store. not sure why tumblr won't let me link it [maybe they think i'm an ad even though i'm not?] but i still want to give credit where credit is due)

[xenia12]

Greetings, frog Tumblr! Welcome to my impulsive, salt-induced Amphibia rant!!

This where I’m gonna ramble about Anne’s nonchalance and near indifference towards Marcy’s whole situation despite, not only supposedly wielding the “heart” gem (which embodies empathy, selflessness, and responsibility), but also the fact that she has been friends with Marcy since before kindergarten and has previously been very protective of her.

So STRAP IN, frogs, newts, toads, and hummuses alike cuz HERE WE GO

-

[in TV announcer voice] Brought to you by unhinged screaming in a discord server with @froggythesculptor.

-

Alrighty, we’ll start with Anne’s relationship with Marcy in “Marcy at the Gates”!!

When Marcy is about to jump in and save Sprig from the barbariant queen, Anne stops her and says she can do it herself. Marcy argues and asks about why she won’t let her go before Anne shouts, “Because I just got you back, okay?!” She then adds:

So worried and sensitive, right? Well, let’s move onto “True Colors” :)

-

When Sprig is dropped by Andrias, Anne is so overcome by grief and rage that she actually activates her powers for the first time. She didn’t even see him hit the ground, yet still seems broken by the perceived loss.

However, when Marcy, her life-long friend, gets a giant flaming sword through the chest, uses what she thought would be her last breath to apologize, and collapses lifelessly to the floor, Anne simply shouts her name then basically goes, “Oh, I’m home now. Anyways-”

She has the shiny eyes here but doesn’t shed even a single tear until “All In” after Marcy is freed. Like, girl, you watched the friend that you’ve probably know longer than anyone except your own parents get brutally murdered 5 feet in front of you. How are you fine???

Of course it’s understandable for Anne to feel betrayed by Marcy after her truth is revealed. After all, she’s been trapped away from her home and family for 5 months and near-death experiences have become a worryingly routine thing for her in Amphibia.

The thing is that, with Sasha, despite her trying to knowingly and intentionally kill Hop Pop (and at one point Sprig), Anne still later said that “Sasha and I might be going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her” (S2 E6). Plus, after Sasha showed a little remorse then let go of her hand at Toad Tower, letting herself plummet so her friend could get away, Anne was sobbing just a minute later. She even saw Grime catch her so she knew Sasha was going to be okay.

The most logical conclusion Anne should’ve come to after going through that portal was that Marcy was dead. Yet, we’ve seen her get far more worked up about someone that, not only also betrayed her, but was clearly saved and alive. And, in earlier episodes, Anne seemed so much closer to and more protective of Marcy than Sasha… So I’m honestly confused.

-

As far as season 3 episodes 1-15, I wanna believe that Anne was simply in denial and didn’t want to bring it up, but it’s stuff like her being “stabbed” by the toy flame sword (in “Escape to Amphibia”) and simply laughing that make it hard for me to genuinely think that. When I just saw that happen through a screen I froze and stopped breathing for a second and it took me a bit to compose myself after. But Anne lived through both the actual event and the reminder yet didn’t react?

Also when Sasha passingly mentioned that Marcy was still alive, just captured, Anne simply sighed and said “thank goodness” before changing the topic. Like????

-

Now for “The Beginning of the End” :D

When first faced with Darcy, Anne (and Sasha kinda, but her reaction is more expected/normal for her tbh and imma not focus on her here anyway) was initially confused but, once she knew the jist of what was happening, she was just angry. She didn’t take a second to mourn or feel bad for her friend and skipped straight to getting mad. I was expecting some sort of guilt for not getting there earlier and maybe even an attempt at an “I know you’re in there!” speech (I wouldn’t want it to work but I feel like Anne would’ve been one to try that), but guess not.

Insert text “Yeah, we gay. Keep scrolling.”

-

BUT THERE IS HOPE!! Marcy’s Journal is gonna have a section written by S3 Anne, so we might get some Annegst >:3. I doubt they can entirely salvage this with just a book (the show is the great majority of the story, after all), but something is better than nothing lol.

[shallweswoon]

I felt this speech with my whole heart, with my whole life of about 50 years on this planet. My experiences as a little girl who was made a scapegoat, the teenager who was sexualised because i had big boobs, the young mother who didn't have a career because she wanted to do a good job taking care of her three daughters -- and one son. 🥰💕💞 And now as an older woman -- who is now a widow; who feels like life has passed me by and I'm not beautiful anymore.

I'm reclaiming my life, and my beauty and what it means to be a woman. Its about so much more than they would like us to think. Trust me, they couldn't do any of it without us. That's why they started subjugating us from day one. They were afraid of the power we could wield. So now, its time for us all to take that power that has always been ours. The first way to do it, is love yourself, tell yourself you're beautiful everyday. Support the women in your life, make them know how special they are. Tell them its okay to just be exactly who they are and look exactly the way they are. Beauty comes in so many forms and so many places. Don't let anyone else make you feel less than... ever!!! 💕💞😍🥰

Also, a note. Please take notice of the three final tags!! I chose womenare... and I got 3 very derogatory terms suggested to me as tags. Do better Tumblr people. 😁