#w an extra dash of violence this time

[autochroma]

i keep picking up my pen, going into a trance, and lae'zel comes out at the end

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.68)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 12.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! fun fact that is actually my hand writing in the note in the moodboard....i couldn't find a pic of something i liked so i made it myself!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Chapter 68: Before I Leave you (Sneak peak)

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow.  Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Checking the wounds on your hands and verifying that they’re clotting, the margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with minimal scolding). He stoops and presses a gentle kiss to the bandages after they are re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scared.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every word he says, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. you can give him one more minute) He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask. Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there. 

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you. He nuzzles, and you huff a soft laugh that Namjoon feels against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon��s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?” 

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tightening on your waist. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? or something? Wouldn't that be fun? Would you like that?” 

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you loosely around your hips, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and emploring like a child.

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this- and imagine if you actually got your happily ever after. Just like in the movies.

But glass slippers cut. Dresses are rented not owned. Good dreams have the power to hurt- even when they’re good.

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. 

Namjoon would be a good father. 

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard and even if it’s hard you do it together. Where you just get to live.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach? 

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. you'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of you is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

Still- you can't resist asking Namjoon, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the worlds hurts (or to keep you in)

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Coming Saturday March 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[burninlovebutler]

GAH i didn't wanna do this bc im a gemini & i talk a lot if im unsupervised lol BUT YALL WERE POSTIN SOME SAPPY SHIT SO I WANTED TO JOIN (so sorry this is gonna be so long i apologize in advance)

this wasn't initially the road i was gonna take while talking about this but ofc if u read any of my writing or know me in any capacity, it shouldn't surprise you that we're getting sad lol

as i stood next to my partner watching the midnight fireworks last night, i had a fleeting thought -

16 year old me didn't think i'd still be here at 26 -

i didn't expect to still be on this earth in 2023

when i was around that age my home life was really shitty and abusive and lonely and my only saving grace at the time was the family i found within the one direction/5sos fandom. there were so many times then that my fandom friends saved me, literally.

i wouldn't be here today without them.

i stopped being in fandoms around 2016 and while i still have MANY long term close friends from that time, we all have gone our separate ways interest wise.

I didn't realize just how much i missed being a part of a community until i joined tumblr again. the austin/elvis fandom welcomed me with open arms & filled me with that same youthful joy and connection as i had when i was 16. and even BETTER bc this fandom has blown me away with how kind and gentle and loving it is

point is - i’m grateful that i AM still here, that i’ve been here long enough to meet you and experience this amazing fandom.

it's insane to me to think i would've never met some of the brightest stars of my days without walking into that theater that day. my year would've been so empty, lonely and sad without you all, so thank you all from the bottom of my cold lil heart - you all showed up in my life when i needed u the most

(something weird about this 1D -> Elvis/Aus pipeline is that when i went back to see the day i saw the movie the first time it was on July 23, aka the 1D anniversary 👀 lil weird)

i initially made this blog solely for my fanfic but i'm glad i branched out - though i still wanted to take the time to anyone who's interacted w my writings, even if it was just help with plot or moodboards. my heart skips a beat when my writing is a point of conversation.

thank you to the beauties who grace my dash everyday, even if we don't talk often 💖

@feverkitten @p-oolshark @pearlparty @avengen @presleys @mrsniallhoran505 @missmaywemeetagain @marooosa @eliseinmemphis @elvisabutler @lovininapinkcadillac @aconflagrationofmyown @austinsmutler @heartbrake-hotel @dre6ming @flwrs4aust @rosaminny @presleysdarling @woundmetender @rainydayz101 @ggwritesstuff @golden-kiwis @lattedreamer @weak-aesthetic @bcofl0ve

and of course to my almost daily babes, my days would be so empty without you all and my heart would be so deflated - i never thought i'd end up with a group like this

@succsessions @lllsaslll @cryingabtab @elvisfatass @loving-elvis @nora-nexus-34 @lavenderelvis @luluthesandgoose @powerofelvis @bisexualwvtson @samfangirls @lindszeppelin @infatuatedharleys @ab4eva @sagesolsticewrites @slowsweetlove @areacodefan @jelliedonut @steph-speaks @star-shard @foreverdolly @purejasmine @oh-my-front-door

and how could i ever forget the two that really roped me in @karamelcoveredolicity @troubleinapinksuit - even though it was through war, violence & lawsuits (lol) that our love was carved from, it is the most magical. i am so honored and so grateful to call you friends

one of my biggest goals for 2022 was to make new friends - ones who are reliable, kind, like-minded, supportive, generous, loving - because i was feeling so lonely & unloved, and to my surprise this goal was met ABUNDANTLY by you all, i really can not stress how much you all mean to me

extra special shout out to @bisexualwvtson for setting up the christmas card exchange, it was probably my favorite part of this holiday season - those cards made my whole christmas and i will cherish them forever

i love you all so much its DISGUSTING how much i love you - i don’t know how i would’ve made it through this year without you all - and it makes me so fucking sad when i think about all the memories that wouldn’t have happened without austin/elvis/you guys - it is because of you all that i have some of the best and happiest memories of this year, thank you ❤️

i hope that we are together for a long long time - i know that i am, i’m here for the long haul 💗 pls be in the nursing home with me breaking hips to Elvis songs

love, mel xx

(I APOLOGIZE IF IVE MISSED ANYONE I TRIED MY BEST TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING MY BRAIN IS TRASH SO IM SO SORRY PLS DONT BE OFFENDED IF I MISSED U I LOVE U)

[wreckedregent7]

Regent’s Ramblings - Aatrox’s VGU

Another day, another pointed thought-spill, this time about something I have in the back of my brain about 90% of the time. Riot has a reasonably good track record with VGUs - Sion, Warwick, Dr. Mundo, Udyr, etc. - oftentimes when they take the time to hash out and reinforce the core identity of a Champion, they manage to nail it pretty consistently.

However, there’s one Champion that wound up in a particularly poor state of balance following his VGU, and that state has been kept in constant flux ever since, with him very frequently crossing the line of dominance and needing to be pushed back down, and with his core fantasy being poorly expressed in gameplay. And man, do I have a love/hate relationship with Aatrox.

Before I talk about his VGU, I need to talk about what Aatrox was before it. In appearance, he was strikingly alien - tall, slender, with ragged banner-like wings, prominent horns, a jagged, segmented sword, and a posture of unusual refinement despite his trademark being unbridled violence. He made for an impressive character as one of a rare species known as Darkin, and his lithe form helped sell the aggression of his Diver playstyle.

His passive allowed him to store up energy in his Blood Well, and when it was full, he was given a revive a la Guardian Angel, being temporarily put in stasis as his health regenerated from the well. His Q fired two converging blades of energy to slow opponents at a range, his E allowed him to dive in, knocking opponents airborne if he landed on them, and his W allowed him to toggle his weapon between Blood Thirst - giving him minor burst heals every third hit - or Blood Price - sacrificing his health to boost the damage of every third hit.

And his Ultimate, Massacre, had him siphon the health from enemies nearby, giving him boosted movement speed and attack speed, making him a living single-target blender who could either sustain himself in combat or go full HAM to murder someone at great risk to himself.

When Riot planned their VGU for him, they initially wanted to keep him as a Diver - a Fighter who has strong engage tools and high consistent damage output with modest durability. They wanted to keep his drain-tanking mechanics, but reinforce his thematic identity as a warlord and war-deity.

And then when his VGU arrived, he became a Juggernaut - having lower average mobility, being easily kited, but having staggeringly high damage and durability to compensate - with some drain-tanking mechanics. His gameplay went from aggressive, risky plays to crowd control and masterful positioning, which, while not a bad thing in and of itself, but coupled with his other mechanics, does make for a bad combination.

So, covering his current kit real quick; His passive has him periodically empower his next basic attack to deal extra damage based on the target’s %max health, and heal him based on the post-mitigation damage, reduced against minions. Hitting enemies reduces the cooldown, and landing his Q sweet spots reduces it even more.

His Q is a three-part ability, where he slams his sword in three unique patterns, each with a sweet spot that deals extra damage and knocks the target airborne for a moment. The first is a narrow line with the sweet spot at the end, the second being a broad cone with the sweet spot at the outer edge, and then the last being a point-blank circle area with the center of the circle being the sweet spot.

His W launches a projectile that damages the first enemy hit, and if it’s a large jungle monster or a champion, it creates a trapezoidal field with the narrower section closer to Aatrox, with a chain linking the Champion to the center; if they remain in the area for a few seconds, they take additional damage and are dragged back to the center.

His E passively heals him for post-mitigation damage dealt to Champions, and also allows him a short dash, which he can use to adjust his positioning mid-Q. And finally his Ultimate fears nearby minions, grants him bonus Attack Damage, Movement Speed, and self-healing, with its duration resetting on Champion takedown.

His Ultimate used to grant him a one-off revive like Blood Well where he could move around while reviving, but they removed it some time after the VGU went live.

Now, you may notice that, despite having a kit that encourages drain-tanking and consistent damage output, Aatrox gets no attack speed steroids or anything like that. Meaning that the bulk of his healing is going to come from landing his Q, and especially the sweet spots. They don’t have too awful long of a cooldown, but the problem becomes much more apparent in practice.

Remember how I said his gameplay went from risky aggression to masterful positioning? Yeah, I meant it. Surviving as Aatrox means that you need to land your Q sweet spots; the 60% bonus damage matters, and on top of that the momentary knockup helps stall your opponent from landing hits in the trade - but Aatrox’s Q has windup, and the pattern is set, and thus becomes predictable.

Your enemy will start to dodge your Qs better, and then it becomes even more imperative that you get better positioning, catch your opponent with W, read their movements, feint, readjust, etc., just to get reasonable sustainability from a Champion whose mechanical identity is “drain tank”.

Comparing him to another drain tank for a second; Vladimir has a similar means of sustain - it’s all in his abilities, namely his Transfusion and Hemoplague. But he doesn’t rely so much on positioning; he can heal consistently off of minions since it’s a flat heal per rank, and he only gets a more effective boost during his Crimson Rush - it’s not tied to his damage, it’s tied to his ability rank and AP scaling, and a small reward for aggressive positioning and timing.

His Hemoplague, similarly, heals for a flat amount per Champion, with a reduction for subsequent Champions after the first. There’s no finnicky damage math - just “did I hit an enemy”. Sanguine Pool heals him as well, but notably for pre-mitigation damage; meaning, once again; your healing is not dictated by the enemy’s defenses, but rather your ability to stay aggressive and leech off of them.

Meanwhile Aatrox is a drain tank who can’t do his job well without a significant investment in items - and since his healing is tied to post-mitigation damage, he winds up being extremely janky as a Juggernaut whose first item is Lethality - Eclipse. Without the effective flat armor penetration provided by Eclipse, Aatrox doesn’t do any actual draining, despite being, again, a “drain tank.”

And I’m sure someone out there’s wondering; “why all this fuss over sustain?” - and the simplest answer is, because sustain is Aatrox’s identity, and it doesn’t mesh with his current mechanics. It makes him highly intensive to play, and also somehow manages to tie his ability to perform not just to player skill, but also specific, rigid itemization that runs counter to his mechanical design.

The standard Juggernaut fare as far as Mythics go are items that blend durability with damage - Goredrinker, Stridebreaker, Divine Sunderer, Riftmaker, etc. - and here we have a Juggernaut who has extreme difficulty functioning if his first item isn’t a Skirmisher Mythic. It lacks in effective durability (no, the shield doesn’t mean shit) which only increases the pressure to perform and exhibit the aforementioned masterful positioning.

And with Aatrox’s success so inextricably tied to specific itemization, he winds up being nerfed when his core gameplay becomes too effective; as seen with his semi-recent nerfs towards his sustain.

I’m gonna close this one out by saying, something I would love to see for Aatrox is to get his Deathbringer Stance changed; instead of periodically making his next basic attack give him a small burst heal, make it crush a portion of the target’s armor. Sacrifice one of his healing sources in exchange for giving him the power to make his healing actually function without needing high damage, low-durability itemization to come online.

It would bring back some of his risk/reward gameplay and still encourage skillful trades, as an enemy who gets their armor crunched is going to be far more wary of Aatrox’s predictable attack patterns.

I’d also love to see his revive effect come back, but I’ve given up hope on that one, no matter how many limitations could be put on it.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Brody in the Machine - AU

I woke up this morning and truly chose violence lmao

CW: The Machine (forced intubation, restraints, loss of bodily autonomy, medical torture), collar mention, touch deprivation, touch starved whumpee, self hate, sadistic whumper, lightly referenced human trafficking (kinda), choking mention,

As with all Machine pieces, please heed the warnings. This is just an AU and is not important to either Tool's or Brody's stories.

[Tool Masterlist (more Machine, no Brody]

[Brody Masterlist (more Brody, no Machine lol]

The Mechanic examined the blond young man that had been left for him. He was a bit short, small and already very timid. Honestly, Nigel wasn’t sure why he had been brought here but that was not his concern. He reached a hand out to touch the boy’s hair.

Brody was trembling, but trying to hide it. Things looked bad, they looked so so bad here, but! Just when it looked like pain and torture - the man reached out to pet him! He pressed his head against the hand, showing that he was good and sweet and friendly. That he didn’t need to be hurt.

And the man smiled! Brody’s heart lifted and he slipped closer to his side, leaning up against it. If the man liked it, liked him, there was a good chance he wouldn’t hurt him. He might get some mercy, maybe some comfort. He just had to make the man like him.

“Well aren’t you a cute little thing,” the Mechanic mused, bringing his hand to cup the back of the boy’s neck. The submission that rolled off him was wonderful, pure and unresisting. A collar was wrapped around the boy’s neck and it caught his attention for a moment. Absently, he glanced up to his assistant who was hovering by the door and considered them. The thought was tempting, to mark them and make them wear a symbol of their submission. That would take more thought.

Brody nuzzled in closer and the Mechanic chuckled. Sweet, but not why he was here.

“Fetch me the catch pole, Tool.”

Brody’s eyes went wide from where he was curled into the man’s side. No, no no no no that’s not, he didn’t, that-

“W-Wait, sir. Sir, I-”

The man hushed him, pushing him an arm length away with a tight grip on his collar. The other person - Tool? Were they called Tool? - came back with a long rod and obediently handed it over to the Mechanic. Easily and practiced, he slipped the wire loop around Brody’s head and cinched it tight around his neck. He cried out, hands flying up to try and release the pressure.

Tool’s eyes met the young man’s panicked ones and he had to look away. They hated this, hated themself. Hated how it never seemed to get easier.

The Mechanic pushed Brody forward and down the hall, not even needing to remind Tool to follow by now. He knew they would. Tears streamed down Brody’s cheeks as he stumbled along, mind going wild.

He whimpered when the door opened, not even understanding what was in front of him.

The Mechanic pushed him forward to the Machine table, adjusting the angle of the catch pole until Brody was forced to bed over, head pressed against the padding.

“Tool, ready the equipment.”

“Sir? Sir, please. I can be good. I, I, I promise, I can - I am! If, if if if, if you give me the chance to prove it-” He stopped as he felt the wire cinch tighter. Not tight enough to keep him from breathing but enough for him to get the hint.

Tool shuddered to themself but of course they obeyed. His hands were buzzing with anxiety as they picked up the components, having to take a deep breath to calm their pulse. Not for them, not for them, they hadn’t done anything to deserve it. The boy made another sad whine and Tool’s eyes fell closed. He hadn’t either.

But Tool didn’t have a choice.

The Mechanic grabbed the back of Brody’s shirt and manhandled him onto the table. “Stay.”

Brody nodded, shaking horribly but eyes locked on him. He could do that, he could stay. He would! He would be good and show him that he didn’t need this, that, that no one had to…

The Mechanic chuckled and turned away to prepare something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Tool walking up to the table. “No skin contact, Tool. Understand?”

Tool’s head snapped up, hand inches from Brody’s wrist. He nodded in understanding, worry plastered on his face. Brody whimpered, understanding the implications and Tool’s heart felt like it was going to break. With a tightly clenched jaw, they secured the straps around his wrists and ankles without touching him. The entire time, Tool’s mind was berating them over and over. They were weak and pathetic and despicable. They were just as bad as he was, maybe even worse because some part of them wanted to help and didn’t. Pathetic. Tool was pathetic.

Brody sobbed as he was restrained to the table. He still didn’t know what was going to happen, didn’t know what was going one, but it would hurt. It would be pain and punishment and terrible terrible terrible and there was nothing he could ever do to make it better. This man didn’t want him to be good, didn’t want him to do anything. He wanted him to suffer, and Brody didn’t know how to handle that.

Yet.

The man came back into his view and Brody shut his eyes. He had been told to stay. Stay - that was all he had to go off. He could, well no; he wanted to run. He wanted to be far, far, from here. But he didn’t even have the choice anymore.

Something cloth was laid on his forehead, making him wrinkle his brow in confusion. What? A moment later, there was a heavy pressure over it, holding his head down without touching him. He opened his eyes, looking for him to ask why. Before he could, he saw the Mechanic reaching down for him, thin tube in one hand.

He yelped when it entered his nose, crying out louder when it kept going into his head. He gagged and cried as it hit the back of his throat, feeling like he might throw up.

Down, down, down. Through his throat and farther, hitting nerves and places he never thought he’d feel. Tears were streaming down his face now, squirming desperately even with the tight restraints.

Finally it stopped and he sobbed. The Mechanic turned away and Brody’s head lolled to the side. That had to be it. It had to be over, right?

The assistant wouldn’t look at him.

Even from where his head was laid on its side, something plastic and large was shoved into his mouth and righted his head. He nearly choked on it. By now, his pulse was so loud in his ears he couldn’t be certain if they were speaking above him, if he was crying, if it was silent.

Another, thicker tube was pushed down and that he did choke on. He whimpered and whined and gagged as loudly as he could, eyes begging the man for this nightmare to stop.

It did not.

The Mechanic finished up the last few steps, letting Tool add the IV and electrodes, and stepped back to watch. The patient was shaking so badly he thought he might see the table shake. It was stronger than that, but the boy’s blond hair was trembling with him.

It was satisfying to watch.

Tool thought they were going to throw up. How, how was this just getting worse? He liked to do little things to help the victims. Lightly holding a hand here, brushing through their hair there. Little things, things that he had craved when he was in the machine. Had the Mechanic seen? Had he noticed what his assistant was doing and was bringing a stop to it? They didn’t know. The Mechanic had taken steps to not touch the boy either, so it was probably part of the process.

It made them sick.

~~~

There was something about this one. It stuck in the back of Nigel’s mind, drawing him back to the Machine room when he had other things to do. A dark curiosity was twisting inside of him. The subject had been so docile before he was put into the Machine, already so submissive and pliant. He was torn with taking him out immediately to see the results, and leaving him in for weeks to see the most extreme end. How would he be different? How far could he push the young man? How long would it take to make him functional to the point of useful if he left him for weeks at a time?

In the end, he only had a week with this subject. The Client wasn’t interested in the extremes, wasn’t curious about the breaking edge of human psychology. That limited the boy’s time to five days, the extra time necessary for re-acclimating him to self-sufficiency.

Pity.

Tool followed the Mechanic dutifully back to the Machine room. He had thought about coming back to the room alone to comfort the poor thing who hadn’t stopped shivering and crying. More than once during their duties, Tool had been tempted to give him just the slightest bit of comfort or touch. But there were cameras, cameras that the Mechanic could watch.

And as much as it pained him, as it ate at his soul and consciousness and stomach every night as he tried to sleep, Tool just couldn’t do it. They couldn’t risk going back in the Machine. They struggled to sleep, struggled to carry around the guilt that every new victim piled on their back, but he couldn’t risk the very real, ever present danger.

Pathetic, their mind whispered to him.

Brody didn’t look at them when they entered, didn’t have the energy to. Not physical energy; emotional energy. The shorter one, Tool, had been in and out regularly, and he couldn’t keep letting his hopes be raised and dashed like this. That was the real torture. The tubes, the electricity, the ache from the restraints was pain. Pain that he hated and wanted out of deeply, put it was just pain.

But being ignored? Being pushed aside and left with no recognition of his existence?

That was torture to his very being. It struck so much deeper, into the parts of himself that were the truest parts of him. Things he couldn’t control, couldn’t change. Things he never questioned, even when everything was strange and unknown around him, he could rely on what he knew of himself. Rather than his mind or his physical body, it was like his soul was dying, strapped there on that table.

The Mechanic hovered above him and smiled at the glossy look of his eyes. With a quick motion, he added a soft dose of sedative to the boy’s IV to make the transition a bit smoother. Suffering was over, time to revive him in the way the Mechanic wanted. Distant blue eyes fluttered closed.

When Brody awoke next, he was laying in a cot. No restraints, no tubes or wire poking from under his skin. He shuddered and tried to sit up, gasping and holding onto the cot side for dear life. Was it real? Was this a nightmare? Was that a nightmare? Where, when-

His head wheeled quickly to the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. He had to blink hard to clear his eyes, the figure walking towards him blurry.

“You’re awake,” the Mechanic mused as he crouched down by the cot. The boy was wavering, adrenaline quickly leaving him weak and wobbly. Grinning, he reached out a bare hand to steady the boy by the side of his neck.

Brody melted into his hand with a broken whimper. Tears burned at his eyes and he would have sobbed if he had enough control over his lungs to do so. He didn’t have the strength to keep sitting up, but the man was more than able to hold. Brody’s eyes slipped closed, only able to think about the point of warmth from the man’s skin.

The angle of the hand changed slightly, like the man was moving and Brody whined urgently. One hand tried to raise up to stop him. No, no no no he couldn’t leave, not yet! Brody needed him, needed to know he was still real, still there. There was an amused laugh and the cot dipped as the Mechanic sat next to him.

Nigel leaned the boy against his side, enthralled by how he relaxed bonelessly into him. The little thing was so open, so willing for any contact after only five days. He carded a hand through the boy’s greasy hair and felt the shudder that went through him.

Absently, he looked up to see where Tool had been restrained casually. He wondered how long in the Machine it would take to make his assistant just as receptive.

~~

tagging the Tool Crew only because this is not Brody's regular thing and I'm not just surprising the Machine on people. @unicornscotty @as-a-matter-of-whump @starnight-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-it @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @valkyrie-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @whole-and-apart-and-between @misspelledwitch @fanmanga1357-blog @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @blackrosesandwhump @panic-and-chaos @savemycrustysoul @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end. 

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late. 

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight. 

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse. 

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual. 

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message. 

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband. 

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left. 

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son. 

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd. 

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them. 

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up. 

-Your spidey senses were tingling. 

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen. 

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared. 

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head. 

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain. 

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath. 

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence. 

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!” 

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest. 

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you. 

-  “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.” 

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him. 

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him. 

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point. 

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs. 

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars. 

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down. 

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again. 

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm. 

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep. 

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh. 

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.” 

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little. 

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication. 

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate. 

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic. 

-He was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this. 

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all. 

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac. 

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’ 

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar. 

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out. 

-Why hadn’t you closed it? 

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over. 

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere. 

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her. 

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom. 

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou. 

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.” 

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family. 

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk. 

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room. 

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries. 

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house. 

- “I wish I could beat their ass.” 

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.” 

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.” 

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you. 

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.  

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears. 

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that. 

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.” 

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap. 

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop. 

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher. 

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son. 

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning. 

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk. 

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday. 

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago. 

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine. 

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight. 

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight. 

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up. 

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him. 

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home. 

-He could never hate him. 

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state. 

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you. 

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags. 

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved. 

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio. 

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.” 

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard. 

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you. 

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger. 

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter. 

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone. 

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes. 

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed. 

-You felt him more than saw him. 

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle. 

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two. 

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob. 

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two. 

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not. 

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.” 

-  “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.” 

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt. 

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed. 

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786​  @meena-in-a-nutshell​

[reversecreek]

clicks onto the dash wearing kitten heels n coyly holding my bang....... hi. me again. it took me so long to select a gif to use on cricket’s intro n i settled on this one bc he looks so unsure abt his smile n it’s rly his essence <3 u can find his pinterest board here n his (work in progress) spotify playlist here. hmu to plot!!! 

* alex wolff, cis male + he/him | you know cricket donahue, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to should have known better by sufjan stevens like, a million times this year, which slipping on wet leaves to photograph a tree struck alight by lightning, delivering a tedtalk to your own reflection to hype yourself up to buy groceries, hiding your hands inside of your sleeves in case you grew an impromptu megan fox thumb overnight thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 1st, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

cricket ws born to a couple tht lived in lilac ridge. their trailer was tucked closest to the woods n always fell under the shade. it was like the leaves wanted to pretend they were a perpetual hanging cloud on the family n that was kind of fitting. their only reason fr having him in the first place was a kind of shrugged like........... we’re under the income bracket we’d get child benefits so why not! may as well try it to rake in some extra cash! needless to say they didn’t rly think it thru or anticipate all of the responsibilities tht came w children n wound up seeing him as an extremely large burden n boy didn’t he know it!

(child neglect & abuse tw) i’ll try to keep this part vague n brief but things were Not Good for cricket growing up. people in lilac ridge didn’t like his parents n it was for a gd reason. he remembers foggy things. being little n wandering around combing the grass with a stick to search for wrappers to suck on bc he was hungry. feeling uneasy when the front door opened. finding out his name was cricket bc the insects used to crawl into their trailer thru the vents n his parents liked to squish them into the carpet -- his mum told him as much once. i think this says a lot. to excessively trim the fat of the story he wound up entering the system at around 8 after his latest and most serious hospital visit. his parents hd to deal w the authorities n last he heard they bounced to evade charges.

(anxiety & violence & trauma tw) cricket sustained a few lifelong injuries from his time in lilac ridge. his knee didn’t heal right which meant he had (n still has to this day) a limp n he’s partially deaf in one ear. he’s always been an incredibly insecure n anxious person so this mde him rly self conscious going into a strange n new environment tht wld b difficult fr any kid to adjust to, nvm w these added worries. he jst felt like something weird to ogle at honestly. he probably wld have felt like that no matter where he was or what he looked like. he cld be in a huge hall of 200 people all wearing the same uniform n he’d still feel like the odd one out. needless to say this didn’t rly help him make friends

cricket’s coping mechanisms were romanticising the things tht other people found ugly or embarrassing or painfully ordinary. he liked it when the rain hit clunky drops against school windows n forbid everyone from playing outside bc he could feel the vibrations through the rubber soles of his shoes n it was a little bit like hearing all of the world at once fr just a moment. he liked medieval fantasy lore about stout gnomes w crumbs in their beards n cheeks red from ale. he liked fallen nests with the remnants of hatched eggs still dirty from the branches n soil they’d hit on the way down. he liked the way the sunlight leaked thru the leaves of the trees in the woods and how, when he sat very still, he could tune into the ringing that was always in his ear n pretend it was coming from the same place, that light thru the leaves, that the angels were trying to talk to him.

he spent a lot of time in the red room at his high skl (i’m begging u this is not a 50 shades reference) (after googling i jst realised it’s called a darkroom bt i’m leaving this fr the sake of sexy bimbo authenticity) n felt quite at home in there. he borrowed a camera whenever he cld (maybe he did yearbook) n photography became his way of immortalising the world as the romanticised version he wanted it to be. his memories were bad bt his photos were beautiful. maybe if he took enough they’d paste over n bleed into each other. maybe bad cld be replaced w beautiful if he tried his very best.

he got placed into fostering w a family once bt apparently didn’t meet the vibe check of their tastes so he wound up returning to the group home he’d initially been placed in. overall this is where he grew up n he aged out the system rather than getting adopted. there was a sense of floundering/isolation/not feeling gd enough in tht bt cricket made do the best he knew how. 

that said there were some gd points! (shocking i kno bc his life hs been so fking bleak so far bt please it’s ok........) (is it?) (🤔). basically he interned as an assistant at this local photography studio during high skl working under this kind of whimsical yet endearing old man. suspected wizard possibly in cricket’s eyes, as an avid fantasy genre reader. for one of his bdays said old man / his boss bought him his very own film camera n cricket cried bc he’d never been bought a bday gift. this ws rly embarrassing bc this old man didn’t know how to emote n neither did cricket so he ws jst sort of sat wiping his eyes n sniffling saying he wasn’t crying as the old man pretended to suddenly clean his lenses. when cricket graduated he offered him a full time position there. they do like. wedding photographs n family portraits n all kinds of things...... pay isn’t huge bt it’s something n he Loves taking photos so it’s sexy <3

PERSONALITY:

SUCH an anxious person it’s actually unreal. overthinks absolutely everything he’s ever said. one morning he might hv put green socks on n for the rest of the day he’s nervously looking around like omggggggg they’re all looking at my socks probably thinking im a little green sock boy thinking i’m a fool n a jester this is all everyone’s probably thinking about i hv to hide my green socks..... even tho literally no-one cares

once saw a girl eating a chicken wing n in his head was like ok she likes chicken good future gift idea..... n turned up at her house with an entire rotisserie chicken

probably thinks WAY too hard abt what to write in bday cards n googles like generic ideas that he can use.... u open a card from cricket n it always says smthn weird like “Warmest wishes and love on your birthday and always!” or “You deserve everything happy. Wishing you that all year long!” tht he got off google

nervously fiddles w things a lot. literally anything. his hair. the cuffs of his sleeves. a thread on his bag. u name it

struggles w eye contact sometimes............ it’s like. he wants to talk to ppl n make friends bt he’s honestly so bad at it. he’s fumbling thru life like a nervous headless chicken

ALWAYS has his camera on him. like always. will tke a photo of u bc he thinks u look nice then be like im so sorry im so sorry...... bowing his head shakily holding his camera bc he doesn’t even kno what possessed him he jst thought it’d be a nice photograph bt boundaries exist. probably breathes very heavily over this later in his room panicking thinking he nw seems like hannibal lecter

probably more confident online bc he has time to think abt what he says more.......... i can see him hving a group of online friends tht he’s more confident w. honestly he’s pretty witty at heart he jst has a hard time verbalising things so ppl overlook him sometimes bt once u get to know him more / he’s more comfy he can b a funny little man.....

loves photographs where he cuts something out of them. loves missing spaces n voids. thinks it’s a rly interesting concept when something that isn’t there becomes the focus of a photograph where everything else is. probably loses his mind fr a collage like a front row 1d stan. likes experimenting w light n perception. pretty artistic honestly hs probably made a stop motion film in the past bc that’s just an extended form of photography in his mind bt i doubt he showed anyone

ummm...... very sweet bt like. he reminds me a lot of this quote. “he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.” feel like tht sums him up quite nicely

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone he met at a wedding: cricket probably ws forced to photograph a wedding fr his boss one time n it cld b interesting as a place to meet from that....... like. i can imagine either it being rly awkward maybe he accidentally spilled a drink on ur muse n was stuttering rly apologetic n it ws just a train wreck. or mayb they took pity on him or even (in a shocking turn of events) a shine to him n invited him to drink n dance. omgggg the thought of cricket trying to dance makes me wna die n probably mkes cricket wna hyperventilate bt idk maybe he went wild n let loose. mayb they wound up damaging the camera somehow. mayb they had to scramble to get another one n ur muse covered the cost n it was a strange late night excursion tht cricket thought about a lot since. cricket probably vowed to pay them bk somehow no matter what. idk. we can work things out. lots of diff options here. doesn’t have to b a wedding either can b any event tht required a photographer

ppl he went to school w: pretty self explanatory i suppose...... maybe they were frm completely different worlds..... mayb ur muse was popular n cricket was definitely not but they got paired fr an assignment n had to work on a project together....... mayb cricket asked ur muse on a date one time n it was completely embarrassing bc he didn’t realise they had a bf n it haunts cricket at night still bc he’s rly dramatic.... mayb ur muse felt sry fr him n ate lunch w him n inducted him into their group like a lost puppy finding a home.... world’s our oyster

neighbours from his brief time at lilac ridge: not to reference taylor swift but i’m gna reference taylor swift n say we cld do a seven inspired plot here. sighs a little..... then sighs a lot. he was here ages 0-8 so idk. we cld work out childhood plots perhaps....

sickening simp: i mean.............. cricket probably gets crushes on ppl so easily like just. anyone who’s the slightest bit nice to him.................. he’s a disgrace. ok i take it back. bt also please get it together freak............... i didn’t say that. he’d probably b extra nice to this person n try n pay close attention to things they liked so he cld get them little gifts. just a bit embarrassing n lovestruck bless his heart. wldn’t expect anything back tho honestly that just isn’t something he tends to do.

let’s go gays: cricket’s bi but he probably was rly in his head abt liking boys n tried to sort of squash it internally during his younger yrs...... i think he’s more comfy w it now MAYBE idk bt back then i picture him having a friend tht ws kind of like. similarly loserish as him perhaps (no offence to ur muse potentially filling this plot or cricket bt let’s face the facts) n they’d hang out n play games a lot n one time it jst kind of happened n he was like............. *struts in looking around sharply* What going on here? except not. bc it’s cricket. more like *shambles in looking around anxiously* What’s, uh... What’s... the happenings? S--... I’m sorry. (immediate apology for saying what’s the happenings bc nobody talks like that n it was an impulsive panic bc he didn’t know what else to say)

those who grew up in the system w him: maybe at the group home or i’d also like the family that fostered him n said sayonara. honestly i imagine the parents just thought he ws a bit too much of a handful / had too much baggage which is rly quite merciless n terrible but. if u think that aligns w ur muses home situation hmu......

um. can’t think of more bt just anything honestly. jst go wild.......

[dashmendoza]

DASH MENDOZA ( EVAN MOCK ) is an EIGHTEEN year old from TAMPA, FLORIDA. HE is known around the island as THE HEDONIST because he is PASSIONATE and CREATIVE but can also be SARCASTIC and JEALOUS. HE reminds of chipped painted fingernails, ear-bleedingly loud EDM, empty beer cans stacked into a pyramid. 

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: Adam Mendoza

NICKNAMES: Dash

BIRTHDAY: October 19

AGE: 18

HOMETOWN: Tampa, FL

BIRTHPLACE: Tampa, FL

RELIGION: Lapsed Catholic vibes

ETHNICITY: Half Bisaya/half random mix of European

LANGUAGES: Tiiiiiiiny bits of Tagalog, a lil’ more Cebuano, and high school level Spanish

NATIONALITY: American

EDUCATION: High School

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single and always ready to mingle

SOCIAL CLASS: Upper middle class (dad’s an uber-successful smarmy realtor for multimillion dollar real estate on the bay and etc.)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 5′10″ (listed as 6′ on all dating apps lmao)

EYES: Dark brown

HAIR: Naturally black, dyed pink

BUILD: Slim, kinda toned

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Smiley face tattoo on his pinky finger that was a stick-and-poke moment when he was 16 and an unfinished tiger on his calf (his second appointment was scheduled for post-Hawaii weekend). Also, an alligator dressed in a sort of Moulin Rouge outfit on the inside of his bicep.

NOTABLE FEATURES: Cheekbones™, pink hair and the smattering of small birthmarks on his face, including one on the white of his eye

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: N/A

ALLERGIES: Cats

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR

HOBBIES: Sewing, digital art, photography, shopping, swimming, surfing, being a simp

LIKES: Fashion, mysteries/conspiracy theories, teasing, dancing, jewelry, shitty movies, loud music, being the loudest person in the room (sound-wise and fashion-wise), making shit up

DISLIKES: Violence, conformity, other loudmouths, passive people, boring people who just wanna sit around and not do shitttt (doesn’t necessarily mean that the “shit” has to be beneficial to the group)

QUIRKS: Will take whatever pill you hand him (is that quirky or a red flag), arachnophobia (hehe), takes huge bites of food (and always gets hiccups), cracks his knuckles constantly, will assume the Lounging position whenever he pops a squat (hands behind head, ankles crossed), dresses like.... That (see below)

STRENGTHS: Collaborative, open-minded, seeks fairness/harmony, easy-going

WEAKNESSES: Indecisive, hypocritical, passive aggressive, can be v consumed by neg emotions in the moment

POSITIVE TRAITS: Resourceful, social, clever, fun-loving, good-ish listener

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Unreliable, vain, manipulative, and again he’s a simp

MENTAL DISABILITIES: General disordered eating and body dysmorphia

SHARE 5 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER

Get ready for an ultra-fun fact: Dash’s mom died a year ago. He’s sort of been spiraling ever since, but he’d tell that actually he’s having like, a really good time and he’s totally fine, guys!!!!

Dash’s dream job? Fashion, baby. <3 He designs and creates a lot of his own clothes.

Dash is an all-around passionate, outgoing, sometimes-intense guy. He is very in tune with emotions and enjoys experiencing the world around him, whether that be nature walks on shrooms or deafening dance music. He wants to feel, and to feel those things with other people, but that also goes for the less-than-rosy emotions as well. He gets very caught up in the negative ones, too. He can be very abrasive when annoyed, angry, or offended, and can’t quite mask when he’s upset.

TBH his nickname comes from his mom’s dog that she got a couple years before he was born sdkagsad. it started as a joke but Sorry man it stuck :/ But he does prefer to be called Dash. If you call him ‘Adam’ he’s just gonna assume he’s in trouble for something and you’re pulling a His Grandma and threatening to throw a slipper at his head. Plus, “Twilight of Adam”? He’s gonna avoid telling people his name’s Adam to at least spare himself the jokes.

While not all-in w conspiracy theories, he finds them to be both a fun topic of research and conversation. Aliens hacked into the plane’s hardware and took control of it and the island is a simulation and now all the boys are living a Truman Show-esque life for the people of Mars, tbh.

WHAT WAS YOUR CHARACTER WEARING ON THE FLIGHT?

His dad made him change twice before he allowed Dash to get away with this. And yes, that’s a waist bag/fanny pack that matches his pants (there’s a Juul and chapstick inside and that’s it).

PLEASE LIST 3 PERSONAL ITEMS OF YOUR CHARACTER THAT WASHED UP ON SHORE

Faded, old ass Tampa Bay Rays hat that his dad gave him when he dropped him off at the airport. Dash put it in his backpack because it didn’t go with his outfit, tbh.

Sewing kit (a man’s gotta be prepared in case something happens to his precious Neil Barrett sweater)

Bag of cool ranch Doritos procured at the Tampa International Airport

EXTRA

PINTEREST

MUSE TAG

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 4 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Revelations

Part 4! Thank you so much for all of the support guys, it literally supercharges me to write more! I love all of you and let me know what you think. Feel free to try and guess what mystery is lying in between these pages ;) Love you! 

Warnings - this is the car chase scene, so very minor violence and tons of fluff

♡♡♡

Early the next morning, our favorite trio were flying down Siskiyou County Line, just on the border of California. Fueled on coffee, stale donuts, and lemon poppyseed muffins, they were ready to seize the day (mostly). Tom once again sat behind the steering wheel with Sonic sitting shotgun (though there was barely any point since he turned around to face Y/n so often) and Y/n situated in the middle of the backseat. 

And still… no seat belts. Because who needs seat belts when you’re flying down a county line going sixty miles per hour? Not these people, I tell you. 

“So, what’s on your guys’ bucket lists?” Sonic asked out of curiosity. “Me?” Y/n asked, and Sonic nodded excitedly.

“Yeah, everyone has a bucket list, right?” Tom nodded as a verification, but still tilted his head to the side in thought, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at the blue hedgehog.

“Well, yeah, but I mean, you’re the one leaving earth. Y/n and I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.” Sonic chuckled mischievously next to him. 

“Oh, don’t be so sure! Your best friend is a magnet for danger,” Sonic taunted smugly. Y/n chuckled softly from the backseat. Her father, however, wasn’t quite that amused.

“Oh, so you’re anointing yourself as the bestie?” Sonic hummed in response. “A little presumptuous, but…” Sonic and Y/n both furrowed their brows in confusion, staring at Tom as he refocused on the road before him. “Look, I like you, but we’re not best friends. And frankly, I don’t think you and Y/n are best friend material either.”

“Wait, what?” Y/n scoffed, leaning in on the console and staring daggers at her father. “I think I have the right to say who is and isn’t my friend, and I already claimed Sonic as my best friend so-”

“Your loss,” Sonic finished for her. The two smiled smugly at one another and exchanged a proud high five. Tom chuckled at the defeat, but was secretly just glad that his daughter finally found someone other than her parents to be her friend. Sure, she had spent time with Crazy Carl and was able to hold decently long conversations with others, but other people her age were just… a little judgemental. Even though Sonic may be a chaotic, energetic, potentially dangerous hedgehog, at least he gave Y/n someone to confide in.

“So, getting back to the topic of bucket lists…” Sonic trailed off, eyeing the two humans to signify that he wanted them to start talking. Y/n sighed, looking out the window as they passed by a patch of giant oak trees.

“If I were to give you everything on my bucket list, we’d be here for a very long time,” she laughed. “But if you ever come back to earth, we can go over it sometime.” Sonic’s eyes bugged out in excitement.

“I am holding you up to that promise,” he smiled before turning back to Tom. “And you?” Tom breathed deeply, running the ideas through his head. 

“Alright, I guess there is one thing,” Sonic and Y/n waited for him to continue as he paused for dramatic effect. “In Green Hills, I’ve always felt more like a babysitter than a cop, you know? So I want a chance to prove myself, under real, heavy pressure. Me, Y/n, and Maddie are going to move to San Francisco and I’m going to become a street cop. And, I don’t know, see if I have what it takes.” He finally looked back down at Sonic only to see his features contorted to one of what looked like a mix of disgust, shock, and betrayal. Y/n’s simply morphed into one of sadness as the idea of leaving was once again brought to the table.

“W-what?” Tom asked, Sonic’s face making him uncomfortable. “Why is your face doing that?”

“You’re leaving Green Hills?” Sonic asked them, his tone having an added sharpness that neither of them had heard before. “Did you know about this?” Sonic turned to Y/n, his jaw clenched and eyes wide. Y/n’s e/c eyes filled with sadness as she looked down to the floor in guilt, giving him all the answers he needed. Tom breathed out heavily.

“Okay-”

“B-b-but why? Why would you want to leave Green Hills?” 

“I don’t!” Y/n protested, but Tom sent her a stern look to keep quiet. She looked back down at the floor again, only making Sonic more ticked off.

“This may come as a shock to you, but Green Hills is a very small town,” Tom explained. 

“It is not small,” Sonic scoffed. “There are hundreds of people.” “That’s a small town, dude!”

“It’s a perfect town and the people need you! Both of you!” Sonic turned to Y/n, who was doing everything within her power to not cry. “I’ve seen the way that the people talk to you. They may think that you’re different, but there’s only one you. When Crazy Carl needed help setting up his traps for me, he asked for you. When that fat lady from the bakery needed someone to drive to the mills for extra flour, she called you. And as for you-” He turned back to Tom, leaving an awestruck Y/n, but was interrupted by the man.

“Please, all that they have me do is clean out gutters and jump start their cars in the winter. And they may call Y/n for those things too, but they could call anyone!” Tom rolled his eyes. Y/n’s gaze softened as she tried to process in her mind everything that was happening. 

“Sure they could call anyone, but they don’t. But they call you guys.” Sonic laid his final card on the table. Tom pursed his lips, not really being able to find another viable excuse for himself. Sonic turned to Y/n only to see her with her eyes already fixed on him, tears glittering just behind her e/c orbs. In the heat of the moment, none of them had noticed the Robotnik-style drone barrelling towards them down the road. It was only when the device shot a typhoon straight through the window, narrowly missing Y/n’s head by an inch, and embedded itself into the dashboard that they all noticed. Y/n let out a glass shattering scream as she ended up slamming against the side of the backseat, in momentary shock from the near death experience. Tom let out a gasp as the vehicle began to sputter, swerving along the road as the drone began to try and reel the truck in. Sonic, however, was still locked inside their heated debate as he stood up on the seat and stared down at Tom.

“You know what? I was wrong, you’re not the Donut Lord at all. You’re more like the Jerk Lord!” Sonic sneered, his anger getting the better of him. Because of Tom’s inability to control the erratic movements of the truck, Y/n kept getting tossed around in the backseat like leftovers getting shoved into the back of the fridge. 

“Can you not see the typhoon literally stuck in our dash?” Tom cried out in annoyance. The drone increased its velocity, causing the truck to go slamming into the fenders on the side of the road. Y/n yelped as she got tossed to the opposite side of the truck while Sonic got thrown out the window.

“Sonic!” She screamed, fear filling her veins as she quickly shoved her head out the window to check on her friend. Luckily, he was alright, clinging onto the hood of the car for dear life. But something was… off. 

“I was forced from my home. Your home is perfect and you’re leaving it. Why would you do that?” Sonic cried out, his body becoming full of electric blue bolts of energy. His eyes began to burn a luminescent blue as he stared at Tom, his emotions causing the adrenaline to soar above normal levels. Y/n watched with wide eyes as the electricity cast a blue shadow across her face. 

“S-Sonic, you’re… glowing!” She stuttered. He quickly looked down and gasped.

“No, no, not again!” Tom quickly slammed on the brakes after giving him a slight warning, but Sonic’s grip wasn’t tight enough as he came flying off the hood, straight over the car.

“Sonic!” Y/n’s voice got lost in the wind as Sonic curled up into an electric ball of energy, and slammed underneath the tire of the Robotnik drone. She watched in pure awe, half of her body hanging out of the truck by now, as the drone went airborne. Her mouth fell open as Sonic disappeared behind it just as the drone crashed into the pavement. Tom quickly made a sharp U-turn, practically tossing Y/n out the window in the process as they quickly made their way back. Before the truck even slowed down to a stop, Y/n kicked the door open and raced out towards the drone, ignoring her father's yells to get back in the truck. 

"Sonic!" She screamed, trying to calm her panicking mind. Her footfalls skidded to a stop as she finally found Sonic lying on the ground. "Sonic?" She gently touched the side of his face, a move that startled him awake. He let out a slight groan, clutching his head as she quickly helped him up. 

"I guess I had a bonus life," he joked. Y/n let out a laugh, even though there were still tears in her eyes. Sonic gave her a reassuring smile and gently squeezed her hand. It was only then that he realized the damage had caused and let out a joyful whoop. "Oh my god, are you guys seeing this? I took that thing out!" The hedgehog jumped up onto his feet and began doing the floss in order to express his excitement, making Y/n laugh beside him. Even Tom chuckled from his position behind the wheel.

"How are you not dead?" He called.

"I have no idea!" Sonic cheered, doing a bunch of exotic spins.

"Emergency Vial Removal initiated." Sonic and Y/n froze. His emerald eyes met hers in confusion, and the two slowly turned to face the destroyed drone. 

"Did that thing just-"

"Yeah, it just spoke…" Y/n nodded, lifting herself onto her feet and slowly approaching the drone with caution. As she began to grow closer, a little divider suddenly opened between the mechanics of the drone, revealing a small metal box. She tilted her head to the side in confusion. Sonic was by her side in seconds doing the same thing. 

"What is that?" He asked. Y/n shrugged, but for some reason she felt a compulsion to take it. Like it was meant for her. Hesitantly, she began to inch her hand towards the box, glancing around the other mechanics skeptically in case there were any defense agencies waiting to strike. Fortunately, there were none. She quickly snatched the box out of the divider and turned so that Sonic could see it too. 

"Fancy," he breathed. "Open it!"

"What if it's a bomb?" Y/n asked uncertainty, eyeing her friend. He sent her a knowing smirk, placing his hands on his hips.

"When was the last time someone put a bomb in a metal box?" 

"Fair," Y/n sighed. She hooked her thumb underneath the opening, and her breath hitched with the anticipation. Counting down from three internally, once she finally reached zero, she flicked the box open. 

They gasped in horror.

♡♡♡

"Oh gross!" Sonic scrunched up his nose as he held up one of the glass vials. "It looks like piss!" 

"I don't think it is," Y/n shook her head, holding up the other one to the light. There were two little vials with corks sitting snugly inside the box. One was the shade of, well, urine, and the other one was an ice blue. As they were inspecting the flasks, Y/n noticed the white labels on the bottom of the vials. Her mouth dropped open. 

"What? This doesn't make any sense..." The one she held had one big word listed: Y/n, her name. The words "Emergency Reversal" were listed in a much smaller font beneath it. She turned to look at Sonic's and saw that it was the exact same thing, only it was Sonic's name on the top. The two stared at each other with wide, confused eyes.

“What does emergency reversal mean?” Sonic asked. You could practically hear Dr. Robotnik flipping out as he watched the two begin to start remembering on his screen. One of his main jobs had been to make sure that those vials never got lost, and what did he manage to do? The one failure in his life and this was it? 

Y/n opened her mouth to speak when a loud whirring sound suddenly came from the crashed drone. She slowly set the vials back down in the box and watched with worried eyes. Sonic must have had another one of his feelings as his heart began to pound in panic, his first instinct being to get Y/n as far away from this thing as possible.

“We gotta get out of here!” Without any warning, he swiftly scooped Y/n up into his arms (with the box still snugly held in her hands) and sped off back to the truck. He gently set Y/n back into the backseat just as Tom was picking up speed back down the road. Her face turned bright red with his carefulness and the fact that he had picked her up bridal style in order to protect her. She shook her head, blinking her e/c eyes rapidly in an attempt to shake the butterflies going insane in her stomach. Sonic got settled back into the passenger seat and they both turned to look out the rear view window. They had turned just in time to see what looked like a miniature version of the drone pop out from it’s underside and make its way after the truck like a starved and love deprived child. 

“I think that drone just had a baby,” Sonic voiced his thoughts, green eyes wide. As Y/n’s eyes followed the baby drone’s advancements carefully, a very faint sound suddenly invaded her ears. She stiffened, looking around the inside of the truck in confusion. Tom was focused on trying to control the vehicle while Sonic was keeping an intense eye on the enemy, calculating what his next move would be in order to save them. As she looked around, she began to notice that it seemed like the noise wasn’t any random noise, it was a song. No words, just vocalizing.

High and low, then high and low again. Short and mystical, but it was there. “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, furrowing her brows.

“Hear what?” Tom looked confused. 

“I don’t hear anything,” Sonic responded, keeping his eyes trailed on the baby drone as it lifted its top to reveal some sort of shooter. It spat out what looked like a heavy metal plate with bright red lasers littering its surface. You would have thought it might have just skidded across the pavement, but it seemed to have a mind of its own as it made its way at a steadily increasing speed towards the truck.

“Look out!” Y/n yelled, hugging the metal box to her chest. At the sudden closeness, she realized just as Tom swerved the vehicle that the singing was coming from the box. Sonic climbed into the backseat with her and slid out into the bed, giving her a reassuring smile when she quickly reached for his arm, fear in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her hair blowing into her face. 

“I’ll be fine,” he told her, looking back at the drone. 

“Where’s he going?” Tom called back. Sonic grit his teeth in slight resentment.

“Just drive the car, I’ll handle this,” he jumped over the tailgate, making sure to hook his arm over the edge so he didn’t fall off. “And if I don’t make it, just ditch me. You seem to be good at that.”

Sonic watched with close eyes as the drone spat out three more of the disks, jumping off the tailgate at just the right time so he landed on two of them. Y/n stuck her head out the window once again and could do nothing but watch in amazement as he skated towards the drone on the things that it was trying to use to kill him. Her eyes widened as he smirked, expertly flipping off of the plates while grabbing one in the process and landing on top of the drone, looking straight into the camera. 

“Hey everyone and welcome back to my live stream! Today I’m showing you how to destroy robots. Step one!” And he stuck the plate onto the camera, causing it to instantly malfunction. He sped back into the truck, landing safely on Y/n’s legs as she climbed back into the truck.

He. Was. Amazing.

“That was incredible!” She cheered with him as they watched the drone, shorting out, practically commit suicide by swerving to the side and dying. Even Tom was grinning as he looked back to see Sonic’s job well done. Unfortunately, it was very short lived as yet another drone came racing out of the other one’s side. Only this one looked like an extension of one of the tires with an added bonus of a camera and some personality traits. 

“This guy really needs a hobby,” Y/n groaned, slamming her head against the seat in annoyance. As the drone came nearer to them, she suddenly got an idea. “Dad, can you do me a favor?” Tom quickly unbuckled and switched spots with Sonic, telling him to keep the car going straight. No, it probably was not the best idea to let a hedgehog drive, but Y/n was twice the size of him and needed someone to hold onto her and make sure she didn’t go falling out of the vehicle. 

She quickly kicked open the door and grabbed Tom’s old baseball bat that he had kept sitting on the floor of the backseat. Her veins were pumping with adrenaline as she carefully climbed halfway out of the car, hooking her foot into the tiny slot where people could put their stuff but never do of the truck. The wind caused her hair to go flying around her face as she tightened her grip on the bat, making sure that Tom had a good arm wrapped around her waist and the other tightly holding onto her leg. 

The drone neared the car once more, protruding spikes in an attempt to pop their tires. A surge of anger went through her as she grit her teeth, swinging in for the kill only to miss. 

“What the fuck, get over here you little piece of trash!” She growled. For once, Tom didn’t say anything about her language. Probably because he was thinking the same thing. Sonic suddenly swerved the truck to the right, glancing over at Y/n worriedly. 

“Quick suggestion, try rolling yourself up into a ball and smashing it with your body,” he attempted to try and lighten the mood. Tom let out a yelp as he swerved again, nearly sending Y/n out the door. She gritted her teeth and attempted to swing again.

“Where’d you learn how to drive?” Tom yelled angrily. 

“From this manual, it’s happening right now!” Sonic yelled back excitedly. Y/n went in for another strike, letting out a frustrated groan as she accidentally hit the gas cap instead of her intended target. Was it just her, or was the drone looking smugly at her? It didn’t even have a face, but the feeling… the feeling was there. That asshole.

“Bring it in closer!” She called. 

“What?”

“Hit the brakes!” Tom yelled. It took him a couple tries, but once he found it and slammed it on, it sent both the drone and Y/n slamming into the side door. She let out a slight groan in pain, but refocused on the advantage and swung as hard as she could, letting out all of the pent up anger and frustration she had been keeping in for years on the little robot. It let out a small whine, struggling to keep upright, and then finally crumbled onto the road. A small smile grew onto her face as she let out a whoop, Tom reeling his daughter back into the car and giving her a tight hug. 

“You are never doing that again,” he told her, overjoyed that she was safe. 

The joy ride wasn’t over yet, however, for as soon as the trio had finally gotten back into their regular positions and settled down, yet another drone came floating by Sonic’s open window.

“Aww,” he cooed at the tiny little drone the size of a horsefly. “This one is cute, let’s keep ‘em.” The second he finished his sentence, he instantly regretted it. Y/n let out a shriek as it began the slow process of cutting off the roof of the car with what appeared to be very small, but very dangerous lasers. Smoke and flames began to slide over the windshield as it made its way around.

“Come on!” Tom cried in annoyance.

“Seriously man, take up knitting or something!” Y/n groaned, batting at it as it came to her side. Finally, the entire roof was taken off, flying past the truck bed and landing somewhere that would probably get someone else in a car accident. All three let out a scream from the impact. 

“You’ve got car insurance, right?” Sonic asked worriedly. To make matters even worse, and because Robotnik has nothing better to do with his free time, another helicopter robot came flying into view. This time, Sonic was able to catch it. Y/n leaned in closer behind him as she watched him inspect it.

“Buzz off,” he scoffed, detaching the wings from the tiny body. The second that the two were separated, the body began to emit a rapid ticking sound. 

“Uh oh,” Y/n’s heart stopped. “Beeping isn’t good.”

“What? Beeping is never good, get it away!” Tom cried out, alarms ringing off in his brain. There were already wanted signs of his and his daughter’s faces all over town, the last next thing he needed was to have the two kids in his care wind up dead on the side of the road. Sonic made many attempts to shake the thing off, but they were all futile. It seemed like the bot had some sort of imbedding device as it stuck onto his glove like velcro.

“I can’t get it off!” He cried out, even Y/n trying to help him take it off. Tom quickly pulled over off the side of the road. The second they were near the woods, Sonic flew out of the car, trying every position he could think of to try and get it off. Finally, he stopped, looking around in confusion.

“Did I get it?” He asked, standing with the bot glued to his furry blue forehead.

“No,” Y/n jumped out of the car and ran over to him, followed by her father. She used a tissue to remove it from his head and threw it as far as she could, but it remained stuck to her hand. Her breathing became rapid as she struggled to shake it off, Tom grabbing her hand and holding it still so Sonic could peel it off. In a matter of very stressful seconds, he was finally able to take it off, setting it down on a rock. Y/n breathed a sigh of relief next to him.

“Haha! Nailed it!” Sonic cried out, holding his hand up for a high five. A sigh of relief escaped from her lips as she held up her hand for him, the two standing a bit too close than they should have been to the rock.

The ticking finally came to a stop and the bomb exploded, taking Y/n and Sonic with it. The world went black for the two as they crashed into the ground. 

The only sound to be heard was Tom’s frantic screaming. 

♡ a.a.

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele - VI

A/N Welcome to Ypres and the battlefields of St Julien, ladies and gents

T/W Mentions of death, violence, and war related trauma 

“All aboard, ladies.” Jack shouted through the cigarette balancing between his lips, glancing at Daniel and Zach over the top of his glasses and offered them a wink as he leaned out of the driver’s side door of the military truck.

“Oh look, Avery can put himself to use finally.” Daniel jabbed, making Zach laugh loudly as they climbed into the back of the truck with all their equipment. The situated themselves near the front so they could talk with Jack through the open space between the cabin and the bed of the covered truck as he drove.

“You are temping me to drive the truck off the road, Private Seavey.” Jack tisked.

“You will do no such thing.” Lieutenant Marais said sternly as he climbed into the seat beside Jack, slamming the door behind him.

“Bloody hell. That’s just swell. A nanny.” Jack grumbled, flicking his cigarette out of the window.

“I’m just here to make sure you don’t do anything reckless.” Lieutenant Marais explained slowly, “Like drive the truck off the road.”

“I was joking.” Jack scoffed.

“Christ, Lance Corporal Avery, you treat me like I’m here to arrest you. Relax, boy.”

More men piled into the truck, Sergeant Besson finding a spot up at the front with Zach and Daniel and he offered them a wide smile as he got himself settled. With the Lieutenant sitting with them, the usually talkative group stayed silent as they waited for the go-ahead to head for Ypres, Daniel worked on another letter for Elizabeth and one for his mother on his lap while Zach discreetly read over his shoulder. Corbyn kicked the boy’s shin, making Zach yelp and glare at him as he sat back to give Daniel privacy to write.

The General walked up beside the truck, patting his hand against the hood, “We are all ready to depart, Lance Corporal. Follow the officer’s truck south-east to the city. Straight along this road.”

“Yessir.” Jack nodded once.

The General walked quickly to the truck at the front of the lineup and climbed in. Jack turned the key to start the engine and they were off. Daniel looked down the middle of their group to get a last look at the camp they were leaving, seeing it drastically emptier than before. He wondered why the General ordered them to leave it near empty.

“Lieutenant Marais, may I ask a question, sir?” Daniel spoke cautiously before he could think, leaning forward a little to the front of the truck, the bumpy dirt road making sitting still difficult.

“What is it?” the officer said without looking at him.

“Is Lieutenant Colonel Seavey travelling with us to Ypres?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Thank you, sir.” Daniel nodded once, sitting back in his seat with a sigh.

“He’s your brother, am I correct?”

“Yessir.” Daniel replied.

“He’s a good man.” Lieutenant Marais spoke, his eyes focussed ahead at the dirt road. “A very good leader.”

Daniel simply nodded, even if who he was speaking with couldn’t see him. Zach held out his open tin of cigarettes to his obviously anxious friend and Daniel sighed and took one out, taking the offered lighter from Corbyn and lit up.

“Can I offer you a smoke, Lieutenant?” Corbyn asked.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” he smiled at him, a smile that was much warmer than the men expected after only seeing his serious scowl for weeks. He took the smoke from Corbyn who helped him light it before falling back into his own seat.

“Cheers, men.” Zach raised his cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. Daniel copied, letting his head rest back against the side of the canvas wall, blowing out a soft cloud of smoke, watching it twirl to the roof. Zach was pressed up close to him, their shoulders bumping together in the crowded truck as it made its way over the dirt road. Daniel stared out the front window, watching the near barren fields sprawl for miles in front of them, the sky a light grey with speckles of blue managing to poke through. It was a cool spring day, the sky managing to hold back the rain the best it could. Daniel coughed over his next haphazard drag from the cigarette between his fingers, breaking him from his blank thoughts, and he held it out to Zach with an unpleased grimace.

“You are not honestly passing that back to me.” Zach gaped at him.

“I don’t want it.” Daniel shrugged.

“Pass it here, Private.” Jack held out his hand behind him and Daniel set it between his fingers carefully as Jack focussed on driving. “Not letting a good ration go to waste again.”

Corbyn laughed lightly from his spot across from Daniel through his own cigarette balanced between his lips as he cleaned his unloaded rifle across his lap. His blonde hair was falling over his eyes and he tossed it back out of his face with a sigh, sliding the cloth into his pocket and clicked the rifle back into place.

“Do you have to do that right now?” Zach frowned.

“What’s the matter? Afraid I might shoot you?” Corbyn scoffed, tucking the gun in the corner next to him.

“Possibly.” Zach shrugged.

“I trust Sergeant Besson with a rifle more than I trust myself with one.” Lieutenant Marais spoke up.

“That can’t be true.” Zach tisked.

“On the contrary. Besson’s the best shot we’ve got.”

“You flatter me, Jo.” Corbyn chuckled. “Although Seavey here seems to put even myself to shame.”

“Is that so?” Lieutenant Marais turned around to eye Daniel.

“N-No.” Daniel rushed. “I don’t think-”

“First shot in battle and was a direct hit.” Corbyn smirked at Daniel, despite the boy’s embarrassment to have all the attention on him.

“I would like to see that sometime.” the Lieutenant said. “Maybe a higher rank will be in your near future.”

“Oh Christ.” Jack grumbled.

“What is the issue now, boy?” Lieutenant Marais turned to the driver.

“Nothing, Lieutenant.” Jack sighed, stamping out the cigarette on the dash of the truck before tossing it out the window.

“If you keep talking back like you are, you won’t be going home to your daughter any time soon.” Corbyn mumbled.

“There are no mentions in dispatches anyway.” Jack shrugged through a scoff.

“If all goes well at the Ypres front there might be. Home before Christmas sound nice, gentlemen?” Lieutenant Marais smiled back to his men.

The truck erupted in loud and excited chatter.

“I could go for some of my mother’s cooking right about now.” Zach groaned, leaning his head back with his eyes closed in thought.

“My fiancé has written me and said that I shall expect to be eating like the King when I get home.” Corbyn added. “These cans of soggy meat can only satisfy so much.”

“We are eating no better than my one year old here.” Jack chuckled.

“At least she gets the touch of a woman with dinner.” Someone in the back called out, making the men laugh.

“Ay, watch your mouth.” Jack snapped over his shoulder. The men only laughed louder.

 ~~

The rain had started by the time they reached the city of Ypres, coming down in heavy sheets that made it hard to see through the dark surroundings. The trucks carrying the entire 2nd Division pulled up next to the church in an even row, the soldiers jumping out and rushing into the dry space of the chapel to make it out of the rain before they got completely soaked through. It was only a quick stop in the city center to gather a few extra supplies and have a quick meal in the safety of the British controlled city. After a lukewarm meal of stew served in their metal mess tins and water refilled into their canteens, the men lined up for restocking.

The sound of the heavy rain pounded down on the tall ceiling of the church, sounding like the low drawn of marching troops, hitting the stained-glass windows hard enough to nearly break them. Evening had barely passed but it was already almost pitch-black outside, the lanterns in the nave of the church struggling to keep sufficient light for the soldiers.

“It’s looking bad out there.” Daniel mumbled, shoving a handful of bullets into the pouch on his belt. He thanked the man who passed him a new rifle cleaner from the other side of the table, tucking it into his belt.

“If it doesn’t let up soon, we’ll be sleeping in that.” Zach grumbled, sliding his freshly sharpened bayonet back into its sling.

“If these front lines see more action there must be proper sleeping accommodations in the dug outs, you reckon?”  Daniel asked, passing Zach a fresh first aid kit and took one for himself.

“Bloody hope so.” Zach scoffed, as he slid the kit into his bag and buckled it back up.

“Herron! Seavey! Over here!” Jack called, waving them over to the door again. They rushed over to him.

“Lieutenant Marais wants us to head to the trenches as soon as possible. Are you two ready?” Corbyn cut in, walking up to them as well.

“Yessir.” Daniel and Zach nodded together, adjusting the now heavy bags hanging off their cross-body belts and filling their uniform pockets.

“Good. The nurses need their space to set up the hospital in here. It’s only a quick drive to the front lines. Let’s go.” Corbyn held open the door into the intense rain and they all ran for cover in the truck.

Sure enough, it was only a ten-minute drive to the front lines, the truck parking a few yards off to avoid the Germans hearing their approach, making the men walk the rest of the way in the rain. The mud along the dirt road coated their boots thickly, splashing rainwater up their trousers and soaked their jackets as they covered themselves the best they could on their march. The rain only weighed them down more, sending shivers down their tired bodies as they walked on.

The trenches they approached were no where near what they were where they came from. They were barely two metres deep, pools of water covering the ground instead of the protective wooden boards, and looked like they were about to completely collapse.

“Bleeding Christ.” Zach gaped, his eyes wide as he and Daniel kept walking after their division into the trenches.

If Daniel thought the last trenches were poor living conditions, he was definitely shocked into silence by the Ypres Salient. The men they passed as they walked through the pathways looked like they had seen the gates of hell, sunken faces and dark eyes, coated in mud like it was a second uniform. They didn’t make any move to take shelter from the rain, letting the weather wash the dirt from their skin and unexplainable memories from their minds.

A few bodies were laid along the side of the trenches, staring blankly into the new arrivals as they walked past. A shiver tore down Daniel’s arms and he forced his eyes forward to avoid putting a face to the stench of rotting corpses. Not far farther down the line, their section was gestured into one of the dugouts to tuck in for the night.

The shelter from the rain was nice but that was about it as the dugout was barely a meter in depth in the wall of the trench, fit for one or two men to curl up in a sitting position with their feet still sticking out into the elements. Zach and Daniel huddled together in one space, struggling to safely rest their rifles and equipment to the side in the process. 

Daniel drifted in and out of sleep most of that night, the sound of the rain and Zach’s snores keeping him awake, the sixteen-year-old curled up next to him with his head on his shoulder. He could only pray the war would be over soon.

[unpopularly-opinionated]

My friend shared with me this reddit thread where someone outlined a list of features they claim are “missing” from CP2077, and because I’m me and like to rant, I wanted to go through it and agree/disagree based on what I think should or shouldn’t be in the game.

So probably spoilers below, at least for gameplay.

- Walk toggle for keyboard.

Agree.

- Key re-mapping for certain elements.

Agree. The game has some rebinding functions, but not enough to be honest.

- Accessibility features missing (ie: text scaling for menus).

Agree.

- In-game benchmark feature.

Personally, I think this is somewhat extraneous and I wouldn’t knock a game for not having it since most games don’t, but sure if they add it I wouldn’t complain.

- Dash should be a separate key and not a double press of walking key.

HARD agree. It’s beyond me that they thought it was okay to have that as-is, honestly. It makes moving around while sneaking a huge pain because you accidentally dodge which puts you into a standing position which can reveal you easily. At the absolute least, they should disable dodging when crouched, but ideally allow it to be rebound to something else.

- Crouch and skip dialogue should not share the same key.

Again, HARD agree. It’s possible to rebind the key (I certainly did) but something I noticed is that, while the dialogue no longer skips when I press crouch, it doesn’t seem to register the crouch button at all while in dialogue, meaning you can’t uncrouch if in dialogue.

- The minimap is too zoomed in to be helpful in many cases.

I only noticed this as an issue while driving, personally. You’ll be going 90mph down the freeway and not know that your turn is coming up until you’re already 90 miles beyond it. Outside of that, I’m not sure why you’d need the minimap zoomed out but hey if it fixes it while driving, I’m for it. Agree.

- Missing a toggle aim feature.

Quality of life, sure. I won’t use it, but agree.

- Ability to respec attributes (Note: Existing item respecs perks only)

Personally, I disagree with this. I think respeccing perks is fine because some of the perks are kinda lame so I can understand wanting to undo that, but I feel like respeccing attributes would sort of negate the purpose of developing a character a certain way. It makes multiple playthroughs more valid, forcing you to develop your different characters different ways. Sooo disagree.

- Ability to disable objective marker.

Agree. Mild nuisance to be sure, but still a nuisance never the less.

- Ability to lower ADS sensitivity.

Quality of life, sure. Agree.

- Add proper ultrawide (21:9, 32:9) support.

Quality of life, sure. Agree.

- Add loot by area or/and autoloot feature.

Eh... I don’t know. I think there should be a “scrap item” button when looting added but I’m unsure about a loot all or autoloot feature. It’s a change that I personally think falls under “optimizing the play out of the game”. Disagree.

- Add “stash all” feature.

And then some. Inventory management is atrocious in this game, it’s actually unreal how they thought it was okay to ship it like that. You can only manage one item at a time, and the UI needs to completely reload each time you do. It’s obscene. Hard agree.

- Add transparency option for HUD elements.

Quality of life, sure. Agree.

- Add way to remove mods from unequipped weapons.

This was actually sort of news to me. I’ve just been scrapping weapons I unequip with the mods still attached, assuming the mods were just going back to my inventory. Evidently that’s not been the case, but I haven’t actually noticed it as an issue because mods are so frequently found. A bit arguable, to be sure, but I don’t see why guns couldn’t return their mods automatically when dismantled. So agree, I guess.

- Add toggle mouse acceleration.

Quality of life, sure. Agree.

- Driving markers and onscreen trajectory (alternative GPS).

I don’t actually know what this means. Does this mean have the line leading to your objective be in-world as opposed to the minimap? I can maybe see that being a thing, I guess. If that’s the case, agree.

- Body slider customization (height, weight, muscle mass).

Eh...I’m ambivalent on this one. It seems extraneous in that it’s unnecessary and just something someone wants rather than something the game strongly needs, but at the same time, with as much marketing that went into how customizable your character is in this game, it’s sort of depressing how poor the character customization really is. Because of that, part of me wants to agree with this, on the grounds that the game was sort of sold to us this way. So I’ll say I tentatively agree.

- Very few options for some of the character creation features (hair colour, tattoos, skin complexion, scars, etc).

See above.

- Animations for eating and drinking (excluding scripted ones).

The problem with adding animations to consumables is that not only would you need one for each type of consumable but that the animation would then need to completely play out each time, which can give players burnout. Going to have to disagree with this one.

- Unable to remove underwear outside of inventory.

I assume this means giving the player the ability to run around stark naked as opposed to in your underwear, and weirdly enough I have to agree. Much like the character customization, a significant amount of attention was paid to the fact that this game has nudity, and yet nothing is done with it. Even in the areas where you’d expect nudity to play a part (I.e. having sex, showering, etc.) it doesn’t, so it begs the question why even implement it?

- Vehicle customization.

This is going to maybe sound odd given my next answer but I kind of agree with this one to an extent. You can buy a fair amount of vehicles in the game, but you can’t customize any of them. At the very least, changing it’s colour and/or design I think is warranted.

- Apartment customization.

This I disagree with, again, to an extent. This isn’t Fallout 4 or the Sims, I don’t think there needs to be a fleshed-out feature to decorate your apartment. I do however think that some changes to it would be nice, even if they’re just preset changes. Like maybe the layout of misc. objects in your apartment changes as time goes on. Shit moves around, I don’t know. Or maybe you can pay for preset additions, like buying a lamp or poster or something that always goes in the same spot, but lets you feel like you live there I guess. Ultimately though, this is completely extra and unnecessary. Disagree.

- Cosmetic slots or transmog feature.

Hard agree. Again, customization of your character was made out to be a big deal, so let us wear the clothes we want to wear. The number of times I’ve had to run out in a skirt that says “Bitch” on it and a bra as a man simply because they’re my best clothes is unreal.

- Very few actual merchant stores in quantity and variety.

Quantity, I somewhat agree. The map could do with a few more of each type of merchant, although the map does sometimes already feel cluttered so perhaps not. Variety however, I disagree. I think there’s plenty variety in terms of merchants, I’m not sure what else you’d need. There’s merchants for guns, clothes, hacks, cyberware, resources, and consumables. What else is there.

- No garages or parking lots.

I assume this is related to owning multiple vehicles which I don’t yet so I’m not sure I understand where this argument is coming from. There is a parking garage at your apartment, so I don’t see why that couldn’t be a garage you can use, but ultimately I can’t weigh in on this without more information.

- Crowds have low level of reactivity and awareness to the game world.

This one bugs me because it’s like how much reactivity do non-interactable NPCs need? They run away from cars and violence. They say “oh shit” lines when you’re driving into them or shooting near them or they see a body, etc. What more do you need? Gonna have to disagree.

- Very few interactive NPCs outside of missions with meaningful dialogue.

See above and literally every open world game ever.

- Very few options to meaningfully construct a personality to V. You get to choose mission endings, but not an actual persona.

I disagree, I think you can pretty comfortably pick a persona for V. I mean it’s not the most advanced system in the world, no, but every game is going to limit your options. You can choose to be an asshole, a scumbag, a nice guy, honest, a liar, competent, incompetent, etc. It all depends on your attributes and what dialogue options you pick really.

- Lack of non-action oriented stories and quests about meaningful themes of cyberpunk dystopia.

This one I sort of agree with, but then again I’m a huge philosophy nerd so I generally can’t get enough philosophy in my games. I want every game to be as deep as Bioshock. I still have a long way to go in CP2077, so perhaps the quests get better, but many of them I’ve not found super interesting. Some have been memorable, sure, but very few, and of those not many are memorable for fitting the Cyberpunk theme explicitly.

- Player cannot smoke.

This one is just funny to me because, yeah in an RPG it’s not ideal to railroad the player, but because of the way the story goes, V doesn’t smoke. All so they can have a few funny lines of dialogue in the story, but w/e I’m okay without smoking.

- Weapon mods and skill trees largely irrelevant outside of marginal and mostly numerical improvements to combat.

I kind of agree with this. To be honest, I don’t even look at any of the stats outside of DPS and I get along just fine. I am playing on normal, so perhaps at a higher difficult these things matter more, but I can’t imagine how much more. So sure, I agree.

- Lack of emergent gameplay events in the game world (ie: dynamic and random triggers).

This falls under “how much is enough”, similar to the bit about the NPC interactions. From what I’ve seen so far, the only in-world ‘events’ that transpire are shootouts between cops and gangs that aren’t marked on your map as predetermined events. Could there be more? Sure, I guess. Does there need to be more? Eh, not really.

- Unable to alter character’s appearance (barbershop, tattoo parlors, plastic surgeon).

Agree. One mission I did, one of the rewards I received was a tattoo which made me think I was going to frequently unlock new customization aspects like that, but it ended up being a piece of cyberware for some odd reason. I think it would be neat if you didn’t have every bit of customization unlocked from the start and could change your appearance as you go unlocking more things.

- Lack of character reflection outside of the few mirrors available. This furthers the disconnection between the player and the character.

This was something I was thinking about genuinely, when standing in front of a mirror. A mirror has to be ‘activated’ in order to start showing your reflection, which I thought was odd, but I assumed it was because of performance issues which makes sense. At one point, even though my PC can’t run the game at ultra graphics, I switched over to it to see if mirrors would reflect all the time but they do not. I don’t however think we need to see our character all the time but more would certainly be better.

- No ownership of items (you can rob NPCs under their nose).

Yeeeeah, this bit I find kinda odd to be honest, especially because the UI for looting items is red which is commonly the colour used to denote “this item is owned and picking it up constitutes as theft”. Part of me thinks that the reason items don’t have ownership though is because of how clunky the stealth system is. There’s no way of knowing if an NPC can ‘see’ you or not. I feel like this is also why when you break a glass bottle or something, it doesn’t alert enemies because that would be so broken in this game because things explode all the time for no reason at all, you’d never be able to steal period. So I feel like no item ownership is because the developers know their game wouldn’t be fun with it.

- No prison or lasting crime system.

The lack of a prison is sort of explained (very briefly) in-game. The prisons are just way too overcrowded, and the police are basically a paramilitary organization who shoot on sight anyways, so there’s really no need for prisons. That said, committing a crime doesn’t have lasting consequences but again I think this is because the game knows that it’s too clunky to punish players for that. Driving is so wonky in this game, imagine if running over an NPC punished you beyond the small threat of police intervention? It would be unbearable.

- Wanted system is largely underdeveloped, with cops spawning out of nowhere and disappearing shortly after.

Yeah it is a little scuffed how cops just appear, that I will agree with.

- Cybernetics lack variety in meaningful choices that alter gameplay (except for limb weapons). Deus Ex has far more impactful mods that actually change the way you approach combat.

While I do sort of agree with there being a lack of variety, I feel the comparison to Deus Ex is a bit unfair. Deus Ex used cybernetics as it’s skill tree/progression system. When you leveled up in Deus Ex, you installed new cybernetics. That’s not the case in CP2077 though. I do however believe that outside of the legs, arms, and hands, not much really changes. I’m not sure what else they could do, but more would certainly be nice.

- The lifepaths are frustratingly brief and have little impact other than dialogue choices. V is essentially the same character regardless of path.

I can’t speak much to this because I haven’t even finished my first playthrough yet, but I will admit that there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot that comes from your lifepath. I’m playing as a Street Kid, and as someone who supposedly grew up on the streets, running with gangs, getting to know everyone, etc., it seems like there should be a bit more maybe. Like maybe Street Kids start with more gang rep because everyone knows who you are because you grew up together. The game tries to explain this away with “you went away for two years and have just recently come back” but right off the bat you meet one of the fixers who you knew and worked for before you left as if you were old friends, and two measly years is not enough for everyone to just forget who you are.

The traffic AI is lackluster and there are too few cars driving around for a large metropolis.

Disagree. There are plenty of cars for a reasonable driving experience. I don’t know if this guy was expecting bumper-to-bumper LA traffic or what, but there are plenty of cars to make the world feel alive and full while not being obnoxious and make driving impossible.

- Trains were obviously cut, even though the whole infrastructure is visible.

I genuinely don’t even know what this is referring to so I won’t comment on it.

- The world interaction is quite minimal. Among items that should be interactive: chairs, benches, toilets, stools, sinks, gym equipment, light fixtures, restaurant menus, smartphones, taxi, trash bins and dumpsters, most merchant stalls, microwaves, dancing floors, gaming tables, arcards.

This is a lot but some of it I agree with. You should be able to sit down on a lot more chairs, but at the same time I kinda understand why you can’t. The world is littered with places to sit, so much so that “Press F to Sit” would be on your screen 99% of the time. Taxis I was actually extremely disappointed were not in the game. The game literally sets up from the beginning that being a passenger in a car is a thing which gives you the impression that it’s a thing that can happen often, and that you’re able to either sit through the car ride or skip it altogether. I thought for sure that fast travel was going to constitute you hailing  cab and it taking you to wherever you’ve marked on your map, with the option to sit through the ride or skip it at-will. It’s actually a huge disappointment that that’s not the case (I even had my friend who is playing as a Corpo test whether Delamaine was specific to Corpos-only but alas, it didn’t work).

- You cannot preview wardrobe and weapon purchases.

I’ve not actually bought any guns or clothes so I can’t comment on this.

- There is no reliable cover system.

This one is odd because there is a cover system, but it’s only a weird hint of one. If you’re crouched by a low wall and you aim your weapon, you will peak around the wall, but it’s very finicky and poor. I think the game could do without one altogether, but the fact that there’s a hint at one already implies it’s intended, so it needs reworking.

- Loot system is overdone, invasive and distracting. You are constantly showered with redundant and marginally better items and have no attachment whatsoever with your fashion and weapon choices. (Dear god, I hate this one).

Hard agree. This seems like somewhat of a repeat to an earlier one about not being able to really customize your character out of necessity to wear whatever is best. Loot is prevalent, but hardly ever relevant.

- Enemies are too spongy and level design forces frontal assault way too often.

This one is interesting because I almost agreed with it until I played the game a bit more. In fact, I might’ve made a post about this before, I can’t recall, where I said that it didn’t feel like stealth was always an option. In many cases, I stand by that statement. The stealth gameplay specifically isn’t always an option, which is frustrating. If you’re like me, and you’re using stealth with quickhacking, then it becomes way more relevant. Being able to breach into a camera network and kill everyone with quickhacks is amazing. However, the game seems to somewhat punish this style of gameplay for some odd reason. I will go through and systematically kill everyone via cameras from outside the building, but the moment I step into the building, more enemies will show up out of nowhere. It’s not just that they’re hiding in areas outside of the cameras view, no they literally spawn into existence the moment you go inside. It’s really jarring, odd, and kind of unfortunate. Oh and as for sponginess...eh, yes and no sometimes. Weirdly my quickhacks sometimes one-shot enemies, and other times it takes like 8 quickhacks to kill one enemy. It’s seemingly random, or a bug, or something. I’m not sure.

- Robotics and drone control largely absent (outside of scripted missions).

Hard agree. I was genuinely shocked to find out I couldn’t control turrets when they started popping up more frequently. Drones I can let pass because they’re mobile and therefor a bit more complex to code properly I guess, but turrets are child’s play to code. They’re literally the same as cameras but with guns. It’s really odd that you aren’t even given a perk that’ll let you control them.

[candyshua]

Hi if you have time can u write #13 with shua?

sure thing!! sorry this is so late )): but i hope you like !! :D

“Don’t move. I’m getting the first aid kit.”

Genre: Pure fluff, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 884

Warnings: Very very very light violence (reader scraped her knee), foul language, drunkenness.

With flushed cheeks, your eyes met Joshua’s and the world seemed to light up. Joshua, who had an exhausted expression on his face, merely walked toward you and grabbed your wrist, jaw clenched. He dragged you out of the bar, his sleek black hair shining amid the city’s midnight glow. You wanted nothing but to run your fingers through his hair.

So--you did. You stood on your tippy-toes and ran your hand through his hair, resulting in Joshua to immediately freeze, gulp, and then blush. Nobody at the bar you were just at would guess that this seemingly intimidating boy could ever blush!

“W-what are you doing?” Joshua asked while avoiding your gaze.

“You have nice hair...I wanted to pet it.” You drunkenly mumbled, smiling at his adorable nature. Joshua merely gave you an incredulous, unreadable look. That was typical with Joshua, though. Despite your unwavering feelings for him (that seemed very obvious), you could never tell if he felt the same. So, you being you, shameless flirting would happen. And then, a very, very flustered Joshua would ensue.

You found it quite amusing and undeniably adorable. He was kind of like a puppy, in a much more goofy kind of way. 

Since you were drunk, you decided to just go for it. Grab his hand, Y/N, you thought, so you reached for his calloused hand and interlocked your fingers with his. Joshua started coughing profusely, which you found very amusing. Since you were feeling extra evil tonight, you decided to have some more fun.

“Hey Josh?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Take me home, mkay?” You said, feigning innocence. You looked up at him with pleading, puppy dog eyes, and you wanted Joshua to take it the wrong way, really badly.

“Huh?” Joshua exclaimed, his chocolate brown eyes widening.

“I want you to take me home, so I can sleep.” Joshua soon breathed a sigh of relief or disappointment, you just couldn’t tell which one it was.

You two continued to walk among the night, until it started to rain. Hard. Droplets would aggressively fall from the sky, leaving pangs of pain on your body. So, you let go of Joshua’s hand, and started to run while giggling. He followed you, as he’d always do no matter what.

It wasn’t long until you found your inebriated self falling to the cement sidewalk, knee first. Soon, your knee started to bleed, a lot. No, it wasn’t anything too serious, but it was enough to worry antsy Joshua.

“Y/N!” He shouted, running to you. You sat on the sidewalk, hands clutching your knee. He then got on one knee next to you, looking at the fresh wound. You couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken, since you were in such close proximity with the rather dashing man. 

Your eyes looked up at his, truly innocently this time, and Joshua felt his throat tighten. You were just too fucking cute.

Without words, Joshua picked you up and put you in piggy-back-ride position. You let a muffled noise of surprise leave you, but everything else was wordless. He carried you home in the rain, and although you were cold beyond belief, you couldn’t help but feel warmth in your heart.

-

The moment you two arrived at your apartment, Joshua sat you down on your kitchen counter, looking at your eyes with sincerity, and almost with longing. 

“Don’t move. I’m getting the first aid kit.” Joshua ordered, as if he would to a five-year-old. Luckily, Joshua has been to your apartment so many times that he knows where your first aid kid is. He comes walking into the kitchen, your soaked self still sitting patiently on the counter. He smiled, looking at you and your clumsy yet adorable nature. Without words, he cleans the wound, to which you hiss in distaste.

Then, he lifts your leg and puts a bandage around your knee, making you fight back chills. Goosebumps arose on your skin, despite being absolutely freezing.

Joshua looked up, your eyes both meeting. “Thanks, Josh.” You smiled, trying to clear your throat. An unreadable glint soon was present in Joshua’s eyes.

“Don’t do shit like that anymore, okay?” Joshua frowned while standing up.

“What? Running in the rain? Okay, Josh, I get it--”

“No, don’t get drunk at bars by yourself. Don’t make me worry about you like that. Don’t make me sad, because the moment I hear that you’re going to a bar, or the club, or wherever you go to get drunk, I think some guy is going to take you home and then I get sad. So stop doing that, okay?”

You were speechless. You never thought Joshua had it in him. Instead of nodding ashamedly, or sitting there awkwardly, you cupped his cheeks, brought his head down to your level, and kissed him. The first second or so was awkward and unrequited, but Joshua soon realized what the hell you were doing and reciprocated it with fervor and passion. Months of pining, confusion, and angst were soon released into thin air, and then trampled on by the kiss you two were still sharing.

You finally pulled away, giving him a shy grin. He returned the grin, with very flushed cheeks and swollen lips. 

You never thought you’d be so happy about scraping your knee.

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 8 Months, 11 1/2 Days

Graphic Descriptions of Violence Warning -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unsheathing his sword is practically a motion without thought, a mere extension of his arm as the first soldier drops in a heap to the ground. The soldier’s cry of pain immediately alerts another nearby, running over to see his blood spattered face. “W-Who are you?!” The soldier shouts, preparing to sound a whistle, but he’s not quick enough, screeching as Zenos grabs his arm and twists it painfully. They are at the edge of the base, a good distance from the heart so that he may get intel he needs.

“Judging from your uniform, you just might have the information I desire. Answer quickly, and I will make your death a swift one.” He whispers, watching the soldier shake in his hold. “I know that the Warrior of Light is being held here. Where are they?”

“H-Hel--”

Their plea for assistance is cut off by a blood curdling shriek as Zenos forcefully breaks their arm, gaze emotionless as the soldier sobs in pain. “You have several limbs left. I’d hate to break them all before finally killing you.”

“T-to the north,” they gasp, crumpling to the ground in a heap. “They’re being h-held in a ten--” A sword through his throat silences the man immediately, blood coating his blade in a dark sheen.

“As you were.” Zenos drones, taking off in the direction given. It’s easy to fall back into the state of mind of the hunt. The world is filled with naught but beasts, mortals merely intelligent enough to fight for violence’s sake. Never had he thought he would actively turn this mindset on his countrymen, to kill them not for their failures, but to take back what was his.

As easy as it would be to simply stroll through the camp and kill any soldier foolish enough to swing their sword at him, attracting unnecessary attention is still low on his list. He certainly doesn’t know why you’ve been captured, and if you’d been tranquilized it is unlikely you would retain the motor functions required to escape. Soon enough the aforementioned tent comes into view, his ears picking up shouting as he gets closer.

“Sir, we cannot possibly give them more tranquilizer, any more and they will,”

“I do not care if will make them sick! Is that not what you are a medicus for?! This savage needs to be subdued before they can kill us all!”

Running to the tent, there’s more shouting, more grunting. After a moment he realizes that amidst the chaos in the tent, you are also shouting.

“Get away from me!” Your words are slurred, and there’s a large crash from inside. With a quick slice of his blade, a portion of the tent falls away, revealing the occupants within. There’s another crash as some machine is flung across the room, your muscles heaving with the effort. Your face is twisted in a fierce scowl, chest heaving from exertion as you stare at the multiple soldiers who seem at a loss of what to do.

“Do something!” one of them shouts, fumbling to load his gun with shaking hands. Before he can lift it to take aim, Zenos knocks it from his hands, a smirk on his face as he does so.

“You capture the Warrior of Light and still manage to somehow fail to restrain them properly.” he sighs, glancing at all the soldiers in the room. Even now his presence commands attention, the soldiers too shocked to do anything for several beats. “Is this the might of Garlemald? Still unable to properly capture their quarry after cheating?”

“S-Soryu?” you stammer, placing down whatever you had moved to throw next. Your pupils are blown, as if you are seeing and not seeing him. You have no form, merely relying on instinct and sheer strength to defend yourself. As much as he would like to show these men their folly, it was clear you needed medical attention more than anything.

“W-Who the hell are you?!” the same soldier from earlier shouts, stumbling back as he snatches another soldier’s gun. “How did some savage break into the camp?! Sound the alarms!”

Sirens go off not too long after the words leave his lips, prompting Zenos to let out a curse. “You should have stayed quiet.” he hisses, thrusting his sword through their heart before they can even react. The remaining men are dispatched easily, providing no challenge at all as they crumple to the ground.

“Y-You came...” He gives you no time to continue, sheathing his sword and moving to scoop you into his arms and dash out of what remains of the tent.

“You will not escape me so easily.” he drawls, already hearing shouting behind him. “You owe me my battle. Don’t forget that.” 

Too focused is he on your escape to notice your blush, to feel you curl further into his embrace. “I’m sorry.” you mumble into his chest, burrowing your face in his neck. “I didn’t mean,”

“I will accept your apology when we make it out of this mess.” he interrupts, stopping to shift you into one arm as soldiers block their path. “Granted it would be easier if you could wield a sword properly...” he grunts under his breath, freeing his blade as several more soldiers gather. A group such as this is certainly no problem, but he cannot watch both his blind spots and yours. Putting you down is not an option, fear of some soldier picking you up and running off while he is making him hesitate.

The decision is made for him however, when a fierce blue glow lands from the sky, a screeching sound as blue tendrils swirl about the landing spot. As the smoke clears, Estinien stands, pulling his lance from some unfortunate soldier’s body. “You need to get out of here!” he yells over the sound of men rushing him, hardly paying them any mind. “I will keep them at bay. The Warrior needs care.” Another thrust and a soldier is flung away over his shoulder. “Take them to Rhalgr’s Reach, it’s the closest. They should be able to take care of them there.”

Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Zenos merely nods in understanding, taking off as the dragoon fends off the chaos behind him. The darkness covers the two of you like a cloak as he sneaks out of the compound, the sounds of sirens getting distant as he finally locates the falcon he had stashed away. Glancing down his heart stops for a moment, seeing you had fallen unconscious. Cursing, he checks your pulse, breathing a sigh of relief as he feels it beating as strong as it was before.

The falcon makes a noise of protest at the extra weight, but otherwise manages to take off toward the Ala Mhigan Quarter. It’s shaky, having to both hold tight to the falcon as well as you, but you make it back to the Lochs all the same, none the worse for wear. Upon his landing, Resistance soldiers are all but shoving a chocobo porter at him, getting him on the fastest bird to Rhalgr’s.

As the chocobo races onward, he allows himself to finally breathe, allows himself to finally look at you. There are no visible scars or damage, meaning they had yet to poke and prod at you. There is merely faint bruising, across your arms from where you most likely were grabbed, and dusting your knuckles where you had probably struck some unassuming soldier. Your face is relaxed, meaning you are not experiencing any pain from something such as poison.

“You have been more trouble than you are worth.” he chides, his voice lost to the wind rushing past him. Brushing your hair aside, he merely takes in your beauty, allowing himself reprieve. “I have never felt fear in my life, dear Warrior.” he whispers gently, cradling you impossibly closer. “Not until today.”

[authenticaussie]

So I was talking with @touchmycoat​ about....my....varied aus, and then this came across my dash and I was like ey this looks fun. So I present!!!!

WIP MEME:

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you, or interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!!

(for me, ones with a // side slash are related, also I cut this down to ninty-nine aus from two hundred and forty-nine SO. it’s under a readmore akhsgd pft)

Here’s a quick top-ten tho ;3c

title??? fuck it: that one where sabo murders his parents

DOCTOR WHO AU PLOT [The Problems That Arise When Falling in Love with a Time Lord]

country hicks [hicka-bicka-boo / HICKEY PUN, PLEASE]

that one where april fake dates casey 

daredevil au

space cowboy prince au

motherfuckkkkin’ taaaaaaaaaaz fic

Donatello/Casey b o d y s w a p

Green Eyed Monster [RENAME]

castlevania fic

from the fires that let you live

JUMP!!! MAS bingo volleyball au

Lantern Lights

Miraculous Failures

Nari and Trace Collab

PRVD2019 2

soul eater au plan

the dreamings = nari tater collab

the stars in your eyes (and the sun’s blinding mine)

Versions of the Truth - SPY AU + TRUTH SERUM

skies extra text // excess notes // 17-33 extraneous // character drabbles // show me skies on fire (unpublished)

Near and Far

You’re ripped and worn (but then again so am i)

In Loving Memory

House of Cards v2

Survival Instinct

robot au

windowsills au

kiss me with your eyes open

Magical Girl AUs

seal au

cabaret

Count the Stars [REWRITE]

Ghosts in the Sky

Sparks [REWRITE]

Chapter 2_Sleight of Hand

Ashes to Ashes

Helping Hand

ace!marco headcanons

thing 4 lolles

marvel au

forever hold your peace

Troublemakers au [GRADUATION]

morrina

And the Stars still Shine (till morning breaks)

Let Me Come Home To You

[gross]

Zolu art trade_3

musculature

New Roommate Wanted

to fall heart first

no thicker than water

sabo amnesia + spies

To Every End (And With Every Word)

Glass Slippers, Leather Jackets, and Masked Men

Never Gonna Give You Up

mas sad + they found the son of the pirate king

Anthology

5+1 Marvel AU

kiss kiss edits

winter’s curse

lygerestia

conflagrate [rewrite + ch2]

A Lion’s Share 

i will run to you (till death do us part)

Never Be

fake date

for i have loved the stars too fondly

steampunk au

bodysnatcher marco

ohshc au

Neighours

The Meaning of Roses

the Woo!AU

The Slow and Inevitable Corruption of an Exemplary Police Inspector

Near and Far

ghosts

Power and Control

A Sailor Went to See // To Sea, To Sea, To See the Sea

son of the devil

You know, like, NYA

Violence on your Behalf

and I miss you like a hole in the head

casual magic

give your sorrows a name (and drown in them)

that one where april fake dates casey 

ASL MUSKETEERS AU

daredevil au

fear of the dark

my heart rests in your chest (never give it back to me) // your body/my heart

your hands / my hands / my hands in yours

LEVERAGE AU MOTHERFUCKER

Helping Hand

Play This My Way (siri play despactio)

LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO

boop le boop

//wip

toku poly fic 2

swallow (v1)

what’s in a name?

Draft 3 AAWG

saboace week

Honourable mentions:

-the entire folder called ‘how about you just let me die instead’ which has a file called ‘fuck why can’t i think of a name that isn’t sugar daddy au’ and is filled with stories all a minimum of 20k but are NEVER TO BE FINISHED

-the fics that are all just completely empty but have cool titles?? special shout-out to “Drift” which I KNOW I wrote 10k for, but did not find in that file (it was under “luffy + ASL + zolu obvi 4 nez”)

-the collection of 40+ pages that is just titled “new tmnt aus + RESEARCH” (hey can you guys guess my new special interest)

-the like, twenty fics, that are all variations of “for x, for y, for z” and then THE ADDITIONAL fifteen fics on top of that that are all just “for lolles (date/fandom)” pffft

[masterserris]

FUNERAL FOR A MAGICIAN    Pt.12 Discombobulate

Coming back from the dead, isn’t easy on anyone. Beck is struggling with himself, as is the rest of the team.

Characters: Neo Mysterio (Quentin Beck), Doc Ock (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker), Alexandria Beck (Alex), Maria Beck, Sandman (Flint Marko), Chameleon, Electro, Rhino

Warnings: Explicit gore and death, violence, mentions of past abuse, mental illness, physical illness

^These warnings are here for the story as a whole. If you get invested by reading a less graphic chapter, then be prepared for the warnings above in other parts!!

(This chapter is fairly light hearted!)

It had been two full weeks since Beck had come back from the dead. Adjusting had been... difficult. The Avengers patiently waited for a sign. Was Beck going to turn over a new leaf and stray away from villainy, or was he going to destroy his second chance? They had pardoned all of his crimes for his heroic sacrifice. He could go back and live with Alex in peace. He could become famous. He could even become an Avenger with a little work and great showing of change and growth. Perhaps only time would tell. 

For the moment, the Sinister Six stayed off the map. Spider-Man kept a very close eye out for any evidence of them, but Otto was extremely elusive. Even though he had recently been to their base, he could not find it again. It was truly a disappearing act, the kind Mysterio used to greatly enjoy as a prank, but this seemed far more serious than simply a base move. They were planning something BIG and everyone wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

Come hell or high water, Beck was going to see Octavius’s plan through until the end. Rhino could live free with his wife, Sandman and Electro could get cured, Chameleon could be free of his past, and Beck could remake himself into a new man. Otto’s life goal and work was worth it. The whole world would know the name “Otto Octavius,” come hell or high water. It was worth throwing away his life again. 

At least that’s how it was for Beck. To be honest he still felt... Off. Not fully there and alive. Sure, he had a fully human body again, but it wasn’t the same. Perhaps it also had him feeling a bit... Powerful. The fact that not even dying could stop him was a little intoxicating. With Otto’s advances in health care, it was possible to clone a new body and simply save a quantum copy of his mind and place it into a new life at any time. 

Given all of this, however, Beck was still in an abysmal mood and slumped further into a depressive state, but there was something he needed to do. His sister had her operation and was pronounced cancer free. She would need to keep an eye out for it in the future, but for now, the stars had aligned and the Beck family was free from imminent destruction for once. This was the prime opportunity to pay her a nice visit.

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

It took him all night to fly to the midwest. He had to often fly slower and lower to the ground than commercial jets to avoid detection. Luckily he was rather quiet flier. He had sent a message to his sister, letting her know he was coming and a message to Otto telling him when he would return. 

With a quiet knock on her front door in the early hours of the morning, Quentin was welcomed in with an abrupt hug. She had not seen him after his resurrection. It had been far too long.

Alex: “Agh, you idiot,” she huffed, still holding him tight. 

He was stunned at first, but gently hugged her back, and they headed inside.  He pulled off his helmet and set it on the couch. It was not Mysterio who entered her house that day, but rather her lost brother who needed his sister’s love once more. 

She had been preparing breakfast for the three of them, to which he gratefully accepted and even offered to help.

Quentin: “Here, add some chives to the eggs. It tastes way better.”

She looked at him confusedly for a moment, then shrugged and continued to peel an apple.

Alex: “Heh, since when did YOU of all people learn to cook?”

Quentin laughed sheepishly.

Quentin: “Haha, well, Otto’s been sharing some of his mother’s recipes with me... and in my free time I’ve been binge watching cooking shows.. and reading... I thought it was high time I tried something new...”

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully and gave him a wry smile.

Alex: “You were always hot garbage at cooking, so when you offered to help, I was planning on watching you fail spectacularly, then jumping in to save the day. I guess this is your chance to prove me wrong, oh master chef.”

Quentin: “Oh screw you, hahah! Sure, I was bad, but not THAT bad...”

Alex: “....................................you once burned a piece of fish so bad I had to throw out the pan entirely.”

Quentin: “SHUTUP!” 

He couldn’t keep a straight face and nor could she.

In truth, he wanted to get good at cooking to impress her. To show her he was working on himself. That perhaps someday, they could all get away from their past.

With the smell of scrambled eggs and fruit tarts, the sound of laughter and sizzling food, Maria Beck came down stairs, still in her onesie pajamas. She was holding a plushie of her uncle Mysterio in his costume that he had sewed together for her birthday. She rubber her eyes and ran up to the table in excitement.

Alex: “Bedhead! Now you finally wake up?”

Quentin: “And with Little Mysty, I see? How have you been taking good care of me?”

Maria: “He got ripped once, but mommy sewed ‘em back up... She said it was a.... battle scawrr?”

Quentin shook his head laughing, as Alex’s face went red with embarrassment.

Alex: “Yes well, you seem to get a lot of those so it’s FINE,” she said as she thwapped his shoulder with a hand towel.

Quentin: “H-hey!! I didn’t say anything!! Hahah.”

Alex: “Youdidn’thaveto, youlittletwerp!!”

With breakfast made, they all sat together. Quentin was content to simply listen to the pair of them catch him up to speed with their lives. It was the happiest he’d been in a long while. But sooner or later, he would have to head back... and face the music of the life he’s lived. He could choose to stay here. Forever. Renounce villainy for good. Be free of his burden.

But that would mean forsaking Otto, and that was impossible for him to do.

His heart was heavy with this knowledge, but he hoped more than anything that once this was over, he could return here. That he could simply cook every day for them. Take up a new business in special effects. Put his master’s degree to good use. Maybe even be the hero that he so desperately needed as a kid to those who also needed someone like that. The future was uncertain, but he needed to push forwards anyways. There were people who needed him.

But for now, he would enjoy breakfast.

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

Alex: “Alright, kiddo, go upstairs and get dressed, you gotta go to school today. The bus will be here in 20 minutes, so hop to it!”

With that Maria, ran upstairs as the two siblings cleaned up. 

Alex: “I.... suppose you have to get back soon, don’t you?” She asked sadly.

He nodded silently.

Quentin: “But forget that. I’m staying. At least until 1pm. I won’t be here when Maria gets home, but I think Doc can wait just a few extra hours.”

Alex beamed at him, eternally grateful for this one day together.

Quentin hugged Maria before she hurried off to school and wished her a wonderful time. For the rest of the day, Alex and Quentin spoke in earnest as they watched a movie, both picking apart plot holes and bad acting. It was a great day, but all good things must come to an end. 

Soon, Quentin said his goodbyes with one final hug. Even if he was unsure about his new life, he thought it was all worth it just for this one moment of bliss.

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

By nightfall, he returned to base, and with his return followed his gloom. While the time he had spent back at home was truly wonderful, he was now back into the thick of his misery. No one, save for Otto even noticed he was gone.

The only members of the Sinister Six outside of Otto that seemed to bother trying to understand Beck’s pain were Sandman and Chameleon, with the latter being the silent supportive type. It was not that Electro and Rhino did not care at all, it was just that they did not know how to handle such a situation. That, and with what they were going through themselves? It was not such an insensitive thing to do to avoid further pain. No one there had an easy time in life..

Chameleon was the kind of person who merely would sit next to you when you were lonely, or randomly leave a gift on your bed without a card or note. He was the man of a million faces, but outside of acting like another person he simply found it hard to show how he truly felt and let his actions do the talking. Perhaps it had something to do with his assassin’s training and harsh history, his cold precision, or perhaps he was simply always like that. No one truly knows.

Flint Marko, on the other hand, was a regular man before his accident. He understood what it meant to lose one’s identity. Their life. To be separated from their loved ones. Perhaps most of the Sinister Six had a connection to that sort of loss, however Marko was not afraid to wear his emotions on his sleeve. If he was upset, he would let you know about it. And if you were upset, he would do his best to try and help out, no matter what.

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

Seeing Beck being so quiet, Marko simply knew that he was still torn up on the inside. After one of their group meetings, he pulled Beck aside for a little “chat.”

Flint: “C’mon, we’re goin’ out, Beck.”

Quentin: “W-wh- Why? The mission isn’t until the 30th. We should lie low.”

Flint: “Yeah? So? We won’t get spotted. Ock has nuthin’ to worry ‘bout. Just switch into one a’ yer fancy black suits and let’s get goin’.”

With a confused look, Quentin merely complied. He was not about to argue with a dump truck full of sand.

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

It only took a few moments to compress his armor into a skin tight under suit, and a few more minutes to change into his rather dashing suit. He hadn’t worn it in a long while. A lifetime ago. 

He was set, and exited his room with Flint waiting just outside. Marko looked him over and sighed.

Flint: “Nice try, but get back inside. Mysterio doesn’t look like a disheveled wash up.”

Quentin: “What if Mysterio IS a disheveled wash up? HM?? What then?” Beck said as he narrowed his eyes sarcastically at Marko.

Flint: “Then Mysterio better get his act together because people care about him. Deep down, Mysterio prooooobably doesn’t wanna go out in public with helmet-head and extreme bags under his eyes, an’ he knows it. So get back in there, an’ fix yourself up more. It might be tedious an’ seemingly pointless at first, but ya know you’ll feel better when ya actually try to give a damn. You LIKED dressin’ up and lookin’ snazzy. So hop to it, or I’m gonna comb your hair FOR you an’ we all know how bad that’ll be.”

Beck relented at his friend’s threat. Nothing worse than having sand in your hair all night. Amusingly enough, Flint sounded like Beck’s own sister scolding him once more. To his credit, Marko was right. Fixing himself up did slightly improve his mood. This might not have worked with other people, but with Beck it did. Flint was just a people person, it seemed.

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

When Beck stepped out, he looked much better, and Marko nodded in approval.

Quentin: “You haven’t told me where we’re going, yet, you know. ..wait. What is that.” 

Beck pointed at Flint’s new clothes.

Flint: “Oh, this? Don’t worry ‘bout it. I just made my own suit outta sand. Gotta fit in, right? Chammy’s comin’ too, so ya won’t feel so alone. It’s a surprise trip, Beck, relax. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

They headed out the back entrance of the base, where Chameleon was waiting in one of their unmarked limos, with him disguised as the driver. Politely, Flint opened the door for Beck, before seating himself as well. Quentin was supremely confused and suspicious at this point. He had an idea what was in store, but he held his tongue and simply let things play out.

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

They soon arrived at Broadway. It was a busy night and when Beck looked out the window, he gasped and whispered “fuck off, no way.”

But there it was, one of his favorite theater troupes were performing The Phantom of the Opera, and Sandman had three tickets with him to see it. He handed Quentin his ticket, to which Beck gratefully accepted.

Quentin: “H-how the hell did you...? How did you get these? They sold out weeks ago. How did.. you know that I liked them?”

Marko: “A little birdy told me, now let’s get inside. Chammy’ll be right behind us.”

It was a full theater, and they had prime seats. They didn’t have much of a problem hiding in such a large crowd. That and Sandman changed the structure of his face a bit to avoid being recognized. Mysterio’s face was less well known, but for good measure he released a bit of his hologram gas to blend in. 

Sure enough, Chameleon joined them soon after, completely disguised as another person all together. The three of them sat and waited for the show to start, when Beck noticed who sat to his right. At first he didn’t pay much attention to the man in the black overcoat, sunglasses, and hat, but it is impossible to not recognize one’s best friend. Indeed, it was Otto that had set this up in the first place. He had ordered the tickets several months back, hoping to surprise his friend with something nice for once, instead of constantly plotting, fighting, and stealing things. He noticed Beck wasn’t doing too well and had hoped to cheer him up. When Beck died, however, Otto was shattered that his friend was gone and that also all of this effort was wasted. That Quentin would never have had the chance to see his favorite actors perform his favorite play.

Otto: “But you’re here now, and to us, that is all that matters. So let’s set everything aside, and enjoy ourselves tonight.”

Quentin merely beamed a rare, genuine smile at them and sat back. Fairly content for once. He had people who were there for him, and that was the best part.

Quentin: “I could see you and Chammy watching this with me, Doc, but you Marko? I didn’t think you were the kind of person who would enjoy this sort of thing...”

Flint: “Who cares? As long as it makes you feel good, then I feel good. An’ that’s that, so shaddup and watch the show.” He said with a chuckle.

Truly, for one night in a long while, Quentin Beck was happy spending time with his teammates. Nothing could take this from them. That was, until a certain photographer taking pictures for the Daily Bugle noticed them leaving.

And Parker was not about to let them escape.

[i-want-my-iwtv]

How has the purge affected u?

[Apologies in advance for the Wall of Text™, I feel like longposting, sorry for the dash coverage, I didn’t think I had this much to say about this… And I probably shouldn’t do this, probably should have kept this to a flippant “It sucks!” with a VC meme, but I haven’t shared much publicly lately… now feels like a singularly poignant time to do so.]

NO CUTS WE LONGPOST LIKE MEN

It’s strange. I think running and participating in the @vcsecretgifts exchange (not finished yet!), and backing up that blog and this one for preservation (not finished yet!), helped take my mind off it! I’ve been busy with @wicked-felina coordinating substitute Santas, so I haven’t had much chance to indulge in it like a participant yet, but I did see that my recipient liked my gift, and that was heartwarming! I’ll reply properly when I have the peace of mind for it (yes I could be doing it now but this is the gear I want to be on right now), and I haven’t had a chance to read the gift from my own Santa, I’m saving that as a treat!

I did the #Log/ffProt/st, that helped. The purge is/was creatively stifling, somewhat, too, bc even though I don’t produce NS/FW stuff myself (I WANT TO, THO), I do reblog it, and support it, I see other artists and writers affected by it, and I felt and still feel helpless, unable to protect them. One of our VC fandom members who draws slash art has been shadowbanned, that I know of. It’s frustrating that the morality & purity police seem to have won this battle, but they haven’t won the war. We’ll take our garbage underground if we have to. 

How crushing to wake up to one’s blog(s) just canceled w/o explanation? We were given 2 weeks’ notice? To pack up our “nasty” stuff and leave? 

[X]

There’s nothing wrong with NS/FW stuff, adult ppl should be able to talk about it, fantasize about it, make art and write fiction about it, have kinks and explore them. I never bought the “if you like it in fiction you support it in reality!” argument, just like with all dangerous things we like in fiction but wouldn’t want in reality. 

“… Fiction is how we both study and de-fang our monsters. To lock violent fiction away, or to close our eyes to it, is to give our monsters and our fears undeserved power and richer hunting grounds.” - Warren Ellis [X]

But I’ve fought those battles and there’s no point in engaging in unwinnable debate with ppl who are committed to misunderstanding me and twisting my words into a strawman they can easily knock over.  

It’s baffling that it’s an unpopular opinion that minors should be allowed to learn about sex, as much as they learn about how to (eventually) drive a car, manage alcohol consumption, defend themselves against violence, handle medication or recreational drugs, all these things that are potentially and not inherently dangerous to them, that they’ll be faced with in the Real World. I remember there were religious rituals in my youth where children could taste alcohol a little bit, it was exposure to an adult thing in a safe space, among other adults. Is this really all about Protecting the Children? Really? Or is it about mental domination? What it looks like to me is a self-proclaimed Particular Authority who wants to keep minors (and adults) submissive and reliant on that Particular Authority, it’s so much easier to keep them submissive and reliant to that same Particular Authority as adults. It’s always been about power. 

And I’m seeing that the communities most affected by the purge are AFAB ppl and LGBTQIA+. It’s misogynistic, LGBTQIA+-phobic. The fact that tungle reportedly blocked archivists from saving blogs before the NS/FW purge is just pouring salt in the wound.

I’ve started following these refugee/evicted tumblr ppl where they’ve migrated to. I’m trying to keep track of them. I’m in the @fiction-is-not-reality2 discord server, keeping my eye out for the next alternative platform.

Leading up to the purge I considered blasting a bunch of smut as a last hurrah, and I did reblog some Controversial™ stuff, just in case my blog was going to be deleted, but then, I lost steam on that. Why put in extra effort and get deleted anyway? Why poke the bear, and deliberately get deleted for it? Most of my blog is SFW, anyway.

I preserved my blog, the gifts blog, and just for archival purposes I should have been doing that all along, so it was good for my own historical safekeeping… so much good commentary and fanworks here, in the past 5+ years! Collecting the scraps just like I’d done in 1994, when there were articles about the IWTV movie and I wanted all of them, I especially wanted the illustrations and caricatures in the magazines (which was really validating of my interest in some way, fanart that was published, essentially!). And I had my folder of Deviantart I liked, of course. So I packed up my blog here to preserve it, it’s on wordpress now, iwantmyiwtv.com, with a lame layout, but I’ve got the tags showing, where fanart that’s blocked here can still be seen on WP.

I’m rambling. 

The purge reminded me that all this, as we know it, could and will be gone someday. Purges have done that before, especially to our fandom, attacked by its own canon author. We’ve survived this before. 

I’ve been on tungle since July ‘13. I’ve made and lost some wonderful friends here, some have moved on to other fandoms, or we’ve had partings of the ways. The fanart in this fandom, my memes, have been spread all over, I see them on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter. When this blog is deleted, either by content flagging or by tumblr finally keeling over, our stuff is going to outlive us all.  

Who even made this one? One of the vintage memes. Maybe their watermark was long ago cropped off, or maybe they hadn’t put it on:

^It was used in a meme here, but I don’t think that was the OP, it’s gotta be more than 4 yrs old. Pretty sure the “JUDGING YOU” in Impact font was around Twilight time, which came out in 2008. This meme is still floating around, it’s still amusing to ppl all these years later. Someone’s stroke of inspiration, and we may never know who it was, but we enjoy it, it’s part of the worn fabric of the fandom.

Will ppl remember me when/if I’m gone? I don’t need to be remembered, it’s enough that I was here at one point, and encouraged ppl to make fanworks, that I helped bring ppl together. I don’t need them to know it was me, specifically, or know much about me, this blog was never meant to be about me. Those I brought together might remember how they met. There are those who have seen behind the curtain and I hope to hang onto them as long as possible.

If/When this all disappears, I want ppl to know how much I enjoyed interacting with ppl through asks, the chat feature. I’ve missed answering asks, and I’ve missed the feeling of seeing new ask alerts without having to brace myself for Discourse. I’ve missed seeing that anon icon as a friendly, but shy, human being, rather than a living person who’s in pain, somewhere else in the world, throwing bricks through my window. Someone who’s suffering bc they’re not getting the attention they need, truly, someone who deserves to be loved, someone who needs validation for their opinions on things, and wanted mine, but I couldn’t give it. I’m only human, too. I made this blog for 15 year old me, who couldn’t find enough VC fanworks, so I set out to collect, make, and encourage them, but all in the spirit of optimism, bc that’s what I got out of canon. 15 year old me drew self esteem from those books. That’s the only person I ever wanted to please with this thing and that girl is still my priority. 

We’ll survive this purge, we’ve done it before. Hold onto the ppl who you’ve made connections with. I’ll be here as long as I can. 

Most importantly, I’m not letting the morality & purity police tell me what ’m allowed to learn about, make fanworks about, or enjoy in published or fan fiction, etc.