#without constantly restarting to change things once i see them under different lighting

[mournsblush]

had to wait for a few mods to be updated but canon val appearance has been more or less secured

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

I have a head cannon that when technoblade becomes friends with someone he braids their hair he's so far done it to Tommy philza and ranboo but only philza knows why

This is such a good prompt thanks! I went a little overboard and added a lot of my own hc's, hope that’s okay! Quick note I’m not past exile yet so my apologies if bedrock bros and just Ranboo in general are slightly inaccurate

When Philza met Techno, Techno was only a child, barely even able to talk, sitting dead-eyed in the ruins of a piglin village, hiding under the rubble in the hopes he wouldn’t be spotted. Philza, of course, being Philza, basically immediately adopts him.

Philza tried his best, he really did, but this was in the middle of a war, and Philza didn’t really know that child soldiers aren’t the best thing (he never quite learnt that, honestly). Techno learnt to fight before he learnt to read.

When Techno was young, he always had his hair cut short and out of his face, but he really liked the small side braid that Philza always wore in his hair. He had started to grow it out a bit, but not long enough to braid, by the time he became the vessel of the Blood God.

Short side note, he and Philza were fighting against a cult, and they’d managed to capture Techno and brand the sigil of the God into his flesh allowing the Blood God to make Techno his champion. Needless to say, the cult was near immediately completely wiped out after this process was complete, but also Technoblade wasn’t exactly super thrilled with all this.

Along with the more obvious changes- glowing, blood-red eyes, growing to almost nine feet tall, an insatiable desire for a good fight, and the constant voices ringing in his head, the growth of his hair was barely noticeable. Sure, it touched the floor and regrew rapidly when cut, but it seemed to mystically never get in his way during combat.

During combat being the operative sentence. Even if it isn’t life threatening, constantly tripping over your own hair when you’re still trying to get used to being a good two feet taller than usual and the voices in your head constantly mocking you for it.

This is when Techno gets the idea to braid it, like Philza does! The issue is, he doesn’t know how to braid hair, and he’s been so terrified of accidentally hurting Philza with all of his changes that he’s been avoiding him best he can, so his attempts fail horribly.

Meanwhile, Philza's very concerned that Techno's started avoiding him. He’s actually really frightened that Techno hates him now, since as the champion of the Blood God, with the voices of it’s angels in his head now, he might well view all other gods as enemies, and Philza, as not only the most esteemed angel but the husband of the goddess Kristin, would be included in that.

Still, he was very concerned about how Techno was avoiding him, and eventually came into Techno's room to have a talk with him, and he walked in on one of Techno's honestly awful attempts at braiding his own hair.

Philza offers to help braid Techno's hair, and during this they have a long, long conversation about both of their worries. Techno reassures Philza that he doesn’t hate him (or Kristin, for that matter), and Philza reassures Techno that he’s not going to lose control. The voices decide that Philza is pretty pog, actually, and chill out a bit. Overall, it’s just a massive relief for everyone.

After this, Philza starts teaching Techno how to braid his hair. It’s a slow process- especially since braiding nine feet of hair is an ordeal- but it’s one of the few moments of peace in the Angel of Death and the champion of the Blood God's life. Once Techno learnt how to braid hair, he started braiding Philza's too. The two of them knew what it meant. I trust you, unconditionally, and without fail.

Hundreds of thousands of years pass. Nations rise and fall, legends are made, but Philza and Techno stick by each other’s side throughout it all. They maintain the tradition of braiding each other’s hair. Techno does not do it with anyone else, but Philza does it with whatever random of assortment of children is under his wing at the specific time. Techno can’t quite understand the mans attachment to whatever orphan he finds on the street. Even the ones who don’t die in the battlefield die too soon, and he can’t understand how you could let yourself go through the heartbreak of seeing their inevitable demise.

He doesn’t expect the latest batch to be any different. Sure, one's Philza's biological kid, so he’d theoretically be able to survive indefinitely, but he’s a creative type who’s so inept with a sword Techno's certain he’ll perish the second a war comes around. One's a failed clone of Philza, but the hybrid and human DNA he was given to stabilise him made him a mess of instincts with atrophied wings and constant sickness. And while the shine in the ram-boys eyes shine with an energy that's definitely a sign of some relation to the older species, everything else about him suggests a regular child who’ll pass and die in maybe a hundred years tops.

Still, when he receives a letter from Wilbur about a rebellion, Techno was excited to go. More for the fun of combat and of course overthrowing a tyrant, but he can’t help but feel proud of the boy he remembered once trying to pick up a sword blade-end becoming a capable general.

He honestly developed a respect for Tommy and Tubbo during Pogtopia. They were so young, and already capable warriors. He felt they were naive, with their talk about restarting a government, but held hope in them that they’d realise that anarchy would be preferable.

Still, they drifted apart, in no short part due to being pressured into canonically killing Tubbo and non-canonically killing Tommy. Techno would never admit it, but the anger in Tommy's eyes and the fear in Tubbo's whenever he was around stung a bit.

His few interactions with Tommy after the sixteenth lead him to believe that the boy didn’t want anything else to do with him, so he was surprised to find the boy shivering under his house, bruised and eerily quiet in comparison to the Tommy he was used to who would never stop talking.

The Blood God may be more traditionally thought of as a god of combat, of killing and of blood shed by violence, but that’s only scratching the surface of the Blood God's dominion. It is also a god of anarchy, of freedom, of vengeance, and of protecting those who cannot protect themselves. And as a champion of the Blood God, Techno would have hesitated throwing out even someone he despised in those circumstances, but Tommy? There was no way he wouldn’t have helped him, despite how much he grumbled and groaned (that, at least, was easier than admitting attachment).

Techno tries, he really does. But he mistakes bruises and scars caused by cruel hands to the ones a younger Tommy came home with on accident due to his frailness, the possessiveness of the man who hurt him as he came in search as him as overbearing concern instead of obsession. He chalks up confused feelings to some awful accident, unwilling to pry in the clearly distressed child's business (and while he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to think that Dream, his friendly rival for thousands of years, might be truly a monster.)

The first time Techno offered to braid Tommy's hair, he didn’t even realise what he offered until he’d already said it. Tommy was just sat, shivering, despite being curled up in one of Techno's cloaks in front of the fire, and Techno'd noticed how Tommy's long hair always got in his face, and he kept raising a shaking hand to push too long hair out of his face, and Techno couldn't help but be reminded of himself long ago, scared to leave his room and dealing with hair far too long for for himself.

That’s not to say he had any regrets, though.

Techno braided Tommy's hair every day after that. Honestly, on the days where he wasn’t shaking bad enough that he couldn’t braid his own hair it sort of annoyed Tommy- he felt a bit like he was being pitied, and that’s something he absolutely can’t fucking stand, but Techno's pity was far, far preferable to being back with Dream, watching the light slowly drain from his eyes in the reflection in the water every day, so he stayed quiet.

After Tommy's betrayal, Techno felt hurt- far, far more hurt than he’d ever found himself before. He’d given the boy his unconditional trust- showed it to him, every day, and Tommy couldn’t even show enough trust to stay by him.

The first time he saw Tommy after, still wearing a braid in his hair, a mockery of friendship, he punched through the walls in his home afterwards. Anger hurt less than sorrow, so he stewed in it, refusing to admit he still cared about the boy at all.

As such, it took him a long time to even braid his own hair, let alone anyone else’s. It was something that was safe, and now just reminded him of a boy who used his kindness and left it unrepaid.

The first person he started braiding the hair of again was Philza, not long after this. It was Philza, and Techno doubted he could lose trust in the man, even if he flat out stabbed him in the back quite literally. Philza was much closer to a friend than a father, but he was still the closest thing to family Techno had ever known.

Eventually though, somehow another boy managed to sneak past his defence. Ranboo was awkwardly tall and quiet with a crown and inexplicably good fighting skills, and Techno couldn’t help but like the boy who reminded him so much of himself. He supposes this is probably the closest he'll ever get to understanding Philza and his children.

Still, it takes a while for him to feel safe and comfortable braiding Ranboo's hair for him- as far as he was aware, Ranboo almost never had it loose out of the braid it was already in, anyway. The last time he trusted someone who reminded him of himself, it only hurt.

Eventually, though, Technoblade came around. Ranboo had just come out of one of his weird sleepwalking states, hair a mess and very distressed. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if the kid had enough memory to know who he was, but he relaxed as Techno braided his hair and talked about nothing in particular.

Now, as Technoblade's founded the Syndicate, he's grown a little more comfortable showing affection to others, especially Philza and Ranboo. Niki's a little new, but Techno knows that someday soon he'll trust her enough to braid through her hair, and put his trust in her completely.

[dekalko-mania]

Things That Lurk in the Dark (Pt. 1)

Amity changed the day the portal opened, in more ways than one.

....

As a young child, Danny had an immense fear of the dark, so severe that he had slept with his parents until they'd attached glowing stars to his ceiling and assured him there was nothing wrong. He'd assumed the problem was no longer there, pushed aside by the many other obstacles he'd faced in his past year of ghost-fighting.

He'd assumed wrong, it seemed, when he began to once again see the shadows in a sinister light.

Danny had first attributed it to his increasing paranoia, an overactive imagination fueled by being constantly alert. He was used to seeing things that were not there upon second glance, accustomed to jumping at any figure he saw from his peripheral vision. This was different, he knew, when he found himself knocking on Jazz's door more often, asking if he could sleep on her floor.

"This is the third night in a row, are you sure you're okay?"

His sister asked the question every night without fail, despite only ever receiving a lie as an answer. His nightmares were back, that was his response, knowing all too well that to get them he would have to have slept at all.

He lay awake that night, lulled into a rare sense of calm by Jazz's soft breaths. Maybe if he counted them, like one counted sheep, he could finally rest.

He planned on doing just that, when a familiar humming filled the room, coming from beside his sister's desk. He sat up, head snapping in the direction of the intrusion as tendrils of darkness formed into abstract shapes.

He stared, not daring to take a breath as he waited. Tonight, he would let it be for longer, observe first and then shoot after. As he watched, cold waves of terror creeping up his spine, the shadows formed into what looked like a door.

He had previously predicted they would become something outright threatening, a creature that lurked in pitch black, or a hand creeping out from beneath their wooden floors. This was somehow much worse, a gateway from who knows where, into their world.

Getting on all fours, he crawled forward, reaching out towards the handle. Before he could make contact, it began to jiggle, beginning as a gentle side to side, and rapidly shifting into an aggressive attempt to enter.

Without sparing a thought, he lit a fire on his palms, green and incredibly bright to ward the door away. That somehow always seemed to work, destroying whatever fragile arrangement had made its place near him.

Deciding that sleep was out of the picture, he shifted into a sitting position, keeping his eyes out for any more potential threats. The following morning, Jazz found him that way, both hands set ablaze and drooping eyes filled with apprehension.

....

It had been difficult explaining away Jazz’s worry, even more difficult to explain to Sam and Tucker why he was acting so strangely. He had grown as Phantom, realized that when facing his fears it was better to be strong and fight through them. If he let his guard down, people would be hurt. 

Yet, somehow, after literally facing death, he found himself once again fighting against a childhood fear. It was humiliating, having to admit it, so he kept it hidden as best as he could.  

"Daniel!"

Danny shot up, snatching the arm waving in front of him on instinct, earning a series of giggles from the class. He tightened his grip, realizing that the lights had been dimmed in the time he'd been nodding off. Already, in that short time frame, he was beginning to see the darkness curling into itself like smoke, caressing the walls in unnatural shades. Surely someone had to have noticed?

"What, he’s gonna fight the teacher now?"

"Loser."

Danny took a sharp intake of air, seeing who exactly the arm belonged to. With an apologetic expression, he released Mr. Lancer’s wrist, lowering his head and mustering the most sincere “sorry” he was capable of in his current state.

“It’s alright, I’ve faced worse at PTA meetings,” Lancer grunted, upset but with a kind tone. “I noticed you dozed off. I know educational movies aren’t preffered, but unless you pay attention, you’re going to fail the upcoming exam.” 

“I’m sorry,” Danny repeated. “It’s just, the lighting here is making it hard to stay awake. Could we maybe flip a switch?” 

Danny did his best to hide the tremor in his voice, all too aware that the gaze of Dash and co. were pinned onto him. Lancer, unaware, surveyed his student, face unreadable as he apparently didn’t like what he saw.

In a low mutter, he told Danny to grab his backpack and wait for him in his office. As someone who had been sent there countless times in the past, he needed no direction, quietly making his way out of the classroom with a mental groan at seeing Dash smirk in his direction.

Great, among his cryptic visions he would now have to deal with his long-time bully. 

Danny leaned against the lockers, running his hand along them for stability in the all too quiet hallway. The humming was everywhere, within the walls, under the cracks in empty classrooms. Anywhere scarce of light, they always lingered, the vague figures, never tangible except for the doors. The longer he stared at one spot, the more Danny noticed them.

They had always been there, waiting for him to spot, knobs twisting as the unknown tried to worm themselves inside of him. They appeared to him as Fenton the most, weak human Fenton, rendered useless with limited access to his ghost powers. He’d found himself growing bitter of this half of him more as of late, wishing that he could always carry the confidence of Phantom, the fearlessness. 

He pushed open the office door more aggressively than he’d intended, dumping himself onto a leather chair with a heavy sigh. He inspected the room in his wait for Lancer, fingers twitching with impatience. The man meant well, setting him aside from a situation that obviously made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t find it within himself to appreciate it just yet.

Maybe he would be more grateful if the humming would stop. He clasped his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the frustrating noise that never ceased to grate on his nerves. As if taunting him, the sound seemed to travel through the flimsy barrier his fingers provided, emanating from his right side.

Thump, thump, thump

He glanced over to the source, teeth clenching at the old storage cabinet that filled his vision. Its drawers rattled, forcing themselves open, before crashing closed. 

The surreal qualities of Amity were everywhere, strongest in the darkest places. Objects disappearing in the blink of an eye, room layouts changing completely on a daily basis, all things that the residents should’ve noticed. But no one did, not even his family or closest friends. 

He was alone, the only one who was aware of his bizarre surroundings, now stuck in a room with a seemingly haunted cabinet. Danny stood, shifting into a fighting position. 

“Whoever you are, get out of there right now!” 

The slamming stopped, relieving him for a minute, before restarting again with increasing vigor. It was like it was mocking him, the whole town was. 

“Cut it out! I can’t deal with this crap anymore!” He readied a blast, uncaring if he would get detention for the rest of the year. “I’ll give you until three-”

The rattling came to an end, leaving the room quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the wall. 

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” He relaxed his posture, though only by a margin as he’d learned to never underestimate his luck’s ability to run thin.

“Daniel?” 

He jumped, realizing Lancer must’ve walked in while his student was glaring at the cabinet. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, attempting to seem unfazed. 

“Was that you yelling? I could hear it from the hallway.” 

“Um, yeah sorry. I thought there was a ghost.”

“Is that what it is?” Lancer closed the door, gesturing for him to sit down. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately. You’ve been more taciturn than usual, perhaps it’s due to the increase in ghost activity?”

Huh, so there were some who had noticed something odd, even though it wasn’t to the full extent. Danny thought for a moment, testing the waters. Maybe Lancer saw more than he let on, noted the gradual changes to their city. 

Quietly, uncertain with his teacher’s response, Danny spoke. “I’m fine. Things have just been a little odd lately, besides the ghosts.”

“Well, I have an hour until my next class. Perhaps you can explain it to me,” Lancer leaned forward, showing his undivided attention. “You’ve been doing well this semester, I don’t want us going back to square one.”

Danny thought back to his freshmen year, bombarded with the change of his lifetime, having absolutely no time for his assignments or anything else in between. It was an arduous effort adjusting to his new life, or half life, and he wasn’t keen on losing control of everything he’d worked so hard for. 

“No, I don’t want to either. It’s the changes that are bothering me, I think. Amity.” He glanced over at Lancer’s face, eyeing any changes in expression. 

“I don’t think I follow.” He looked slightly confused. 

At this point, Danny would’ve usually given up, swept the issue under the rug and moved on with his day. He didn’t enjoy sharing his emotions, his burdens, but he just needed to know that there wasn’t something wrong with him, that someone else could see it too. 

“Don’t you ever see...I don’t know, weird things that shouldn’t be happening? Maybe hear noise and see light under a door, but walk in and there’s nothing there?” He steeled himself, looking up to meet Lancer directly in the eye, hoping that the man saw that he was speaking with clarity. “Or have you ever been behind a locked door and felt that someone was trying to get in? Or the dark...that’s where it’s the worst. Do you see any of that?”

“I can’t say I do, Daniel.” Lancer frowned. “And if that was the case, I would say it was the ghosts.” 

“But it’s not the ghosts. I know it’s not them.” His ghost sense would’ve gone off by now. “Entire buildings shift positions at night, there’s this dark fog everywhere. I know it sounds crazy-”

Lancer held up a hand. “I’ll have to stop you there. Nothing is ever too far fetched in this place, and I don’t like my students discrediting themselves before they get a chance to fully speak.” He paused, considering, before continuing with a grim tone. “Look, I know you won’t particularly like this answer, but do you think it possible you’re being haunted? It’s not unheard of for ghosts to become attached to a host here.”

“I don’t...” It wasn’t possible for ghosts to haunt other ghosts, was it?

“Before you decide, I suggest you talk to your parents. I know people your age don’t like to approach them for help, but they’re the biggest paranormal experts in town. You’ll find a solution there.”

Realizing that was the best response he was going to get, Danny slumped into his seat, disillusioned. “Alright, I’ll try bringing it up to them tonight.” 

“Good, and in the meantime, you know my office hours. I’m always open to helping you catch up.”

....

Danny had absolutely no intention of approaching his parents about his findings, confronting them was his very last resort. He remembered the incident with Youngblud, how their first instinct was to scare the crazy out of him, and he wasn’t keen on repeating it. 

Still, Lancer had unintentionally given him an idea, one he was surprised he hadn’t thought of before. If by any chance something was going on in Amity and his parents knew about it, they were sure to have kept data, information that the entire Fenton family was privy to. His parents were unconventional in the sense that their work was not kept secret from their children, all security activated by fingerprints or face recognition. 

It was, he knew, done with the hope that their kids would become just as interested in the study of the paranormal as they were. It was also, what they did not know, partly responsible for contributing to his accident. 

After double checking that his parents were not home, he snuck down to the lab, beelining his way to their work computer. As expected, it was easy as usual to log in, endless arrays of information at his disposal. To an untrained eye, his parent’s work was disorganized, even Vlad had said so. But he knew better, knew his way around their strangely named folders like he was reading the table of contents in a nonfiction novel. 

Ghost profiles, weaponry charts, data on present, past, and future projects, new developments...there. 

He clicked on the folder, apprehensive as it took a moment to load. Once it did, it took only a glance to tell that something was very, very wrong.

Unnatural levels of ectoplasm in the air, measurements at a high of-

Cognitive dissonance experienced by a reported 1 in 10 Amity citizens, signs of-

Missing teen, Ross Lucas, 16 years old, blonde hair, blue eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Polluted lake at Amity Central Park, no side effects reported, but water glows green-

Missing woman, 37 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Reported disorientation, home layout changed. Upon further questioning, memory loss is reported, no reminder of filing the report-

Minor detail: green tint to sky at certain points of the day-

Missing man, 22 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Poltergeist activity, Amity Police Station-

Missing teen, Jenny Lee, 15 years old-

Missing-

Missing-

-last seen in Amity Forest Reserve

From above, Danny heard the telltale rattle of the front door opening, lumbering footsteps and daintier ones tapping along the tile.

Acting on impulse, Danny shut down the computer, turning invisible and keeping quiet in case his parents approached. Sure enough, he heard them nearing the lab after a minute of rustling. He stood, holding his breath, while the Fenton’s chatter got nearer as they appeared. He noted that his dad carried a briefcase, unusual for a man who preferred his casual attire, one with the Amity Police Department seal along the bottom corner.

After what he had seen, he could only stare at the case in apprehension.

“Let’s handle this before the kids are home, Jack. I don’t want to scare them.”

“Why can’t we tell them? It’s dangerous right now, Mads. Vladdie wouldn’t risk the safety of his god kids for this.”

His mom sighed, plopping onto the desk chair and booting up the computer. “I want to as well. Especially Danny, he’s always sneaking off somewhere. I can’t imagine him leaving, seeing his name among the victims.”

“We don’t have to ask him for permission...”

“You’re right, we don’t. The kids know how to keep quiet.” Maddie went silent, gesturing over for the case. Jack laid it on the table, unlocking it with a quick passcode and handing her a series of documents. She placed them beside her, pulling up a series of weaponry profiles. 

“What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why he was so adamant about them not knowing. Danny more than Jazz. What could possibly be the issue of keeping them safe?”

“Vladdie thinks ahead. Maybe he was worried they would try solving this themselves. Do you want me to ready the vault?” Upon his wife’s nod, Jack made his way over to the section of the wall behind Danny, waving a hand over a sensor to reveal hidden sliding metal doors. From behind them, hundreds of weapons resided, all of various types. He grabbed two, planting them beside Maddie. “Anyhow, this is one of those rare times I admit I disagree with him. Let’s tell them tonight.”

His wife chuckled, amused at the prospect of Jack disobeying his dear Vlad. 

“That’s rare to hear.” She bit her lip, eyeing the sheet. “What a tragedy. There’s a group that’s gone missing, we haven’t had so many at one time.”

“That’s five people! What were they doing in there?”

“I don’t know, the forest is rumored to have more ghosts than usual. You know how teens are, maybe it was a dare. The question is, how is it possible that our devices state the victims are in the vicinity, but none of them have come out?”

“Perhaps they’re being held captive, or maybe, maybe they’ve become...”

Jack didn’t dare finish the sentence, but Danny knew what he meant to say. If something evil lurked within the reserve, a being that wouldn’t allow a human to live, it’s possible their spirit hadn’t moved on.

Trapped within its confines as a ghost.

“I’m holding onto hope that’s not the case. We’ll get them out Jack, we’ve got Amity’s biggest experts joining us in the raid tonight. Vlad himself will be there, it’ll be alright.”

Deciding he’d heard enough, Danny kicked off, uncaring of the clatter of beakers he left in his wake. There was someone he needed to see, a person who owed him an explanation and who deserved the sucker punch of their afterlife.

His parent’s were optimistic, and whatever raid they spoke of obviously included thorough planning, but if there was anything he’d learned about fighting the paranormal, it was that one was not sure if those on the front lines would make it out alive.

He couldn’t allow that, he had placed that responsibility onto himself, and he would be damned if someone else would have to bear it.

[bakugous-bbygirl]

~Sleepless nerd~

Bakugou X F!Reader

First time doing this please don’t make fun of me please feel free to give me feedback and help me make more stories like this one!

Warnings: swearing. (That’s it really)

Bakugou called all his classmates nerds, but you, you were the actual worst nerd he’s ever met.

When you started attending UA high your room had been placed next to the angry blonde’s. Your quirk made you quite diffrent. You were incredibly smart and had the ability to hack into anything you needed no matter the size. It seemed like your quirk had no downsides

Except your god awful sleep schedule.

Durning classes you looked as if you were always alert. You participated well, never even dosed off in class once as far as everyone knew. But durning the night bakugou could hear you playing away on some game. At first he assumed it was a one night thing. But that was two months ago.

Night after night he would hear you turning on your tv leaning against the thin walls and would just play away for hours. He wondered how in the world you functioned.

It wasn’t your fault really. Your quirk has your brain running all the time constantly trying to hack into phones and other electronics. Not only that but constant math equations and other school stuff took over your mind all day. It was absolute hell for you but you never let it show.

Other than that though. The rest of your classmates loved you. You were socialble, always helping others when it came to school work, and even seemed unbothered by mineta’s terrible comments about you looked in your uniform. “Looking perfect as always (y/n). Your skirt is juuuussst right” “Thank you, please back away from me now your starting to drool :)” your reply was always the same regardless of what he said but it was still really impressive you delt with the comments at all. But Bakugou held a personal vendetta against you and your awful sleep patterns. He never attempted to talk with you besides the small rude comments on how your in his way, or smaller things, he couldn’t deny though. You were adorable durning the day. Your smile made him feel warm feelings in his chest, and he could listen to that laugh forever. Damnit why did the most annoying girl have to be the one he fell for! He knew one day he should probably just ask you to stop playing so late at night since it would wake him but he couldn’t bring himself to face you for more than a few minutes without getting all red and flustered thinking about being your boyfriend. Thinking about holding your small frame against his body and sleeping soundly together. Bakugou figured he didn’t have a shot though, since you were much closer to that annoying red headed rock, but after seeing your notes you had passed on to kirishima, Bakugou had no choice but to look at you in a whole new light

“Kiri, you need my notes again?” You whined while leaning against your doorway.

“Ah I’m sorry (y/n)! You know English just isn’t my strong suit.” The red head rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed while facing you. You weren’t surpised but you were realllly tired. He had just knocked as you were getting ready to crawl into bed and pass out. “Alright alright, wait out here I’ll go grab them” you yawned while closing your door back gently as to not seem rude. You rummaged through your bag while rubbing your eyes and grabbed the first sheet of paper that was labeled “English class” not spending to much time checking over it. Boy you wished you read that paper better

After handing it over to kirishima you admitted that you were planning on napping and to just give them back to you later in the afternoon. “Thanks again (y/n)!” You closed your door and decided before crashing to clean up your energy drink cans you had let make a small pile on the ground. It was kinda strange but you had done this since your quirk manifested. Your brain was always ticking, so you had trouble relaxing and sleeping normally. You had come to learn sleeping durning the night was a joke and your brain would only stop after you couldn’t stay awake any longer. So you decided to drink energy drinks durning the day to keep yourself awake letting your brain just go and after classes you would just curl up and proceed to drool all over the floor or wherever you passed out. Kept you alive this long, but durning the night once you awake your brain just started up again and the cycle restarted, however today you had messed up and forgot your drink so you were a bit groggy and more down than normal, people begun to notice but you played it off as feeling slightly sick. Kirishima though did not expect anything less from the perfect note taking student and just wanted to copy your notes so he could figure out how to spell certain words. What he GOT instead was a huge picture of Bakugou and half way copied sentences. The picture was his soul focus though as today you had decided to absentmindly draw serval small side profiles of the angry Pomeranian with cute little words under it. The main one looked amazing. He couldn’t knock it. You were a great artist! If hero stuff didn’t work out you could easily make money this way! It was Bakugou looking out of the window with his headphones in. It was some real good stuff. But he couldn’t stop laughing at how clear your crush was and no one has picked up on it. Not even Bakugou himself! He couldn’t pass up a chance to help you out for a change instead of you helping him. “Ohhhh bakubro is gonna love this” he hummed to himself while knocking on the man of the hour’s door.

When the door was opened Bakugou could not believe his eyes. Of course he had feelings for you as well! But damnit he wanted to confess first! Now this stupid shitty hair knew before he did! “Give me the damn paper you extra! Just go study and get out of my hair!” Bakugou slammed his door while clutching the paper to his chest. He was mostly in a state of shock, not only were you a remarkable artist, but you had drawn him. And it looked incredible. Truely heart stopping stuff. You really fell for him hard. “Tch, damn cute nerd..” he decided to hang the paper up near his bed out of most people eyesight and knew he had to talk to you tonight. Cause there was no way that red head was taking that paper back.

10:40.

You groaned silently after reading your clock on your phone screen. You slept passed nine again, meaning you way missed dinner, and would have to sneak down all quietly so you wouldn’t wake anyone. “What a pain..” you slipped out of your bed and slid your socks over your feet while opening your door gently, what you did not expect to find was a certain blondie waiting on you. “Jesus Christ..! Bakugou you scared me..why are you up so late?” You tilted your head as Bakugou’s body had tensed. Like he owes you some explanation! “Better question dumbass..! Why are you up huh? Shouldn’t we be both sleeping?” He got you there. You had made a promise to yourself to keep your weird habits to yourself so you wouldn’t worry any of your classmates. “W-well, uh. I..um..well...” you struggled to form a actual sentence. Since you had never had more than a few seconds of conversation with the punk boy. You couldn’t help it. Your feelings for him has bloomed so out of control you often found your brain slowing down and filling itself with him. “Save it nerd. We need to talk, can I come into your room?”

You swear up and down your heart and brain stopped working at the same time. Bakugou, big meanie, Katsuki wanted to come inside of your room. Your safe haven! And better yet! What in the world did you two have have to talk about?! He’s never spoken to you! You haven’t even begun to form your denial when he just grabbed your arm and dragged you back into your room “W-wait..! What do you have to say to me..?! Did I make you upset..?!” You didn’t know what you did but your mind was already back and running to a thousand different things you could’ve done to make this hothead mad. You’ve seen how he treats midoryia you didn’t want to take any chances. “What? No. Why would I be mad at you dumbass?” Bakugou actually looked...confused? Man this night was defiantly a weird one. The only face you’ve ever seen him make was a mad one. Why did he seem so relaxed around you? “Then...why are we standing in my room..holding hands..?” You pointed at your interlocked fingers gently seeing as you weren’t sure when in the world that happened since he grabbed your arm. And why were his hands so perfect for holding?! Bakugou was caught off guard clearly but didn’t let go while he was..blushing? “Listen stupid! Shitty hair gave me your trashy notes. If I knew you had liked me I would’ve spent more time speaking to you and shit.”

Second time. Second time you felt yourself die. Did, Bakugou, while holding your hand. Just confesss that he knew you had feelings? How in the world did he know?! “Kiri did what now.” You were almost fuming. You were gonna kill kirishima. Your foot. So far up his ass it was gonna be a new record. While plotting your murder you didn’t even notice that the blonde boy was trying to explain how he got his hands on your notes and that he’s felt pretty much the same since you’ve started attending school together. His confession had fell on death ears though as he faced you noticing that you weren’t listening. Bakugou sighed and snapped his fingers in your ears to jolt your attention. “Hey dumbass.” You glanced up tilting your head “ha? What’d you say?” Why in the world did his heart stop around you. “I tried to say you made a mess of your notes today and you had basically admitted you had a crush on me. And for some odd reason. I feel the same way about you. You spend all damn day stuck in my mind. Your damn quirk hacked your way into my head and won’t leave me alone. Then you would keep me up all night. And I thought I hated you but I guess it’s pretty clear I like you and your stupid noisy ass.” To put it lightly you are kinda caught off guard. This guy hated everyone! But you always figured it was kinda a act to make himself stand out better. “So..your telling me..you actually..like..like like me..?” Your brain had begun to slow down again.

Everything in your head felt so much better around him. You didn’t know why but everything settled with his skin met with yours. Even if it was the softest touch durning classes or a half assed hug it was all you needed to make yourself seem normal. After that night of confession and confusion you had agreeded to be his girlfriend and he started crashing in your room to make sure your stupid ass slept like a normal person. Surprisingly to you he was extremely patient and helped your body sleep durning hours that everyone should sleep at. In turn durning classes you actually started acting more like yourself than you had knew was possible. Your brain wasn’t racing all day and you didn’t need to drink out of a can every two hours or so to make yourself hyper. The change went noticed by all your classmates since Bakugou with his loud self made a huge deal after you walked in holding hands and denki pointed it out to everyone. “Yeah she’s my girlfriend now!! So what?! Your just all jealous I got a date first!” Overall though. He was extremely nice and gentle with you like he was always nervous and couldn’t control his real feelings around you. It was pure heaven to you. He was just what the doctor ordered and you needed your daily dose of him for the rest of your life

Please make sure give me feedback and tell me what you think of this! Like I said this was my first time writing really in this type of format! I can already feel some things I would have to change but don’t be afraid to tell me anything!

[catholicdaredevil]

Self Hate - A Tony Stark One Shot

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 1736

Notes: I wrote this for a friend as a self indulgent fic for her when she was going through a lot of issues with seeing her own self worth in terms of the way she feels about her body. While I’ve switched her name out, it does still list physical attributes specific to her including but not limited to scars from when she got her appendix out. So I definitely understand this might be a difficult reader insert given the specificity but I wanted to share it anyways! This has themes that could be upsetting since they deal with body image issues so make sure to take care of yourself even as far as reading this and don’t upset yourself. Remember that you are strong, capable and fucking worth it. I love you all and if you need anything just shoot me a message. I am accepting requests but obviously they aren’t really coming out well so it’s just a waiting game but you’re still welcome to send them in!

You stared intently at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror in your underwear as the list in your head grew- you constantly ran through this list on a daily basis. The list of things about your body you didn’t like, the list of things you’d change given half the chance, the list of things that made you miserable when you thought about them. Unfortunately you were always thinking about them, as your hands ran across your chest down to your stomach. Too much. Over your thighs and hips. Too much. To your ass and back. Too much. Your brain felt foggy with all the pathetic thoughts of how you would never be worthy of anything, any love or affection, let alone happiness. 

“Hey baby I know that look,” arms snaked around your waist and Tony set his head on your shoulder, meeting your gaze in the mirror. He chastised you with his eyes and you sighed loudly, feeling your body relax as the breath left your chest. “That’s your ‘I hate myself’ look.”

Turning to look him in the eyes you scoffed loudly at his bold to-the-point attitude he held, letting your hands meet behind his neck. “Bold of you to talk about having an ‘I hate myself’ look Tony.” 

Tony’s head fell back in laughter, holding you tightly to him, his smile was so bright when he looked back at you. He’d been doing so well lately with everything. It had taken years for him to get where he was, therapy, medicine, breakdowns, progress and relapses were all along his path. He credited his strength and patience to get better entirely on you; on your love and support and he vowed to do the same to help you. He leaned in to kiss you gently, his lips moving to kiss across your cheek and continued as he spun you back to look at yourself, his lips ending right under your ear. 

“Maybe one day I was but now I am a shining beacon of what could be.” It made your head hurt with how hard you rolled your eyes and he chuckled lowly into your ear, his breath tickling and warm. “Y/N, baby, you are my entire world. You are the brightest light in my life, you are drop dead gorgeous and the love of my existence.”

Hot tears built in your eyes and spilled out to run down your face as he spoke, one of his rough calloused thumbs wiping them as they fell. The soft pink of your lips slightly parted you could taste the salt as tears slipped into your mouth. 

“I-‘m okay Tony, it’s-justa bad day. I don’t wanna look at myself anymore today.” Hiccuping out a sob at the sight of his face falling in pain, you felt bad that now that his mental health was in check you began to crumble in your own. 

Sure he never complained but you knew it added stress; stress he didn’t need, stress you didn’t want him to have. Yet he remained relentlessly kind, unwaveringly loving, attentive to every detail he could be. It made you feel sick with guilt, you couldn’t understand how he felt you worth all his time and effort. Him, Tony Stark, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, doting on just you. You couldn’t see what he saw in you, couldn’t fathom that it was different than what you so often saw in yourself. Too much. 

Tony felt exactly the same but in a completely different way. He couldn’t wrap his head around how you didn’t see what he did, he couldn’t begin to understand what you saw wrong with yourself when you looked in the mirror. Looking at you was one of his greatest joys, not just because you were attractive, no it was so much more. When he looked at you, he saw unadulterated love. Behind the sparkle of your eyes was every time you had said ‘I love you’, was every single moment you held his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his soft chocolate hair and had let him cry, clutching you to him. He couldn’t grasp that you didn’t see the love he had for you, when him seeing yours was the light that brought him out of such darkness. That your legs that you thought were too this or that, were what held you up every day, carried you around, carried you to him. Every part of you that you hated to look at, were the parts that he found running through his mind ever possible hour of the day and night, the parts that he could run his hands over, fingertips softly brushing across the planes of your soft skin. Feeling the ridges of scars, stretch marks, bumps and bruises everything that added up and equaled the one thing he cared about more than anything. You. 

Tony was never a religious man, and within that never understood how they siphoned time into only two categories; before Christ and after. Well, never understood before you came into his life and cleaned out the cobwebs in the darkest parts of his mind to bring light, laughter and love. Now every moment of his life could be described as such that had confused him for so long: before and after. He could remember the day he first met you, heard your laugh fill the room as you walked in with someone who at the time simply looked blurred compared to the ethereal glow that seemed to surround you. Your deep voice like velvet as you spoke, a grin plastered to your face and at that moment while he thought at the time that he didn’t deserve it; he knew he had to have you in his life in any way possible. All of this adding up to him being so utterly in love with you it drove him crazy at times, but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

“We can cover every mirror in the world if that makes you feel better baby, but nothing will change the fact that you are the most incredible human being I’ve ever met and that I am wildly in awe of every tiny thing you do. Every breath you take is a miracle, every time our eyes meet I am cured of every dark thought in my mind, when your hand so much as brushes against mine my heart stops just to be restarted by your smile. Y/N I am not a man of words, I’ve always been better with my hands everyone knows this, but you. You make me want to write sonnets and plays about your beauty, about your kindness and generosity, about the way it feels to be so fucking loved for once in my life. For once I can feel loved, I feel your love for me radiating off of you and god damn it if I don’t love you with every atom of my fucking being.” Tony’s eyes locked with yours as you both still faced the mirrored wall of your shared bathroom, his strong hands holding you tight without trapping you. You sobbed silently into your hands, ragged breaths ripping from your chest. Tony pressed soft kisses to your hot cheeks and turned you to look at him once more, in his eyes the tenderness they always held just for you. 

“I love you.” He whispered, his large hands held your cheeks, thumbs like windshield wipers back and forth across your face to wipe tears from their path. 

“I’m so sorry- I love you so much,” The words barely audible but enough to pull a smile out of Tony. His hands drifted from holding your face to down your shoulders, fingertips running down your sides to grip onto your hips with such fervor it made you shiver. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, you’re my girl, I’ll always be here.” His lips pressed against yours and the love that poured out of them was overwhelming. You felt maybe an ounce of the love he had for it and it was more than you had ever thought was possible to be loved yet here he was. Defying all of your negative thoughts and expectations; loving you with every piece of him and making sure you knew it everyday of your life.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“Yes of course. Can I show you something?” Your head lifted to look at his face before nodding and he slowly spun you around one final time to face your reflection. “Every piece of you, is you. Your hair, always smells like coconut and mango and I could recognize you anywhere with my eyes closed and hands behind by back just by the smell of your shampoo I swear it’s so ingrained in my brain.

Your eyes that hold all of that love you keep just for me, are so sharp and I can hear you chastise me when I get out of hand with one single glance. Down to your cute little nose, that always does- well that,” he poked your nose all scrunched up before continuing, “Every time I compliment you. Like it’s a bad smell or something. Your mouth, god your mouth Y/N. Fuck it kills me, you literally unravel me with nothing but your mouth at times and I don’t just mean when you’re sucking my dick. The way it quirks up just slightly when I make a shitty joke, like you don’t want to encourage me but still think it’s funny. Or when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about and every single word is laced with a smile so wide I feel like I could get lost in it. All the way down past your cute little scar from when you got your appendix out to your fucking toes, there’s not a single part of you I would change.”

You took in a shaky breath to try and stabilize the way your heart was pounding as he pressed gentle kisses behind your ear. 

“I love you, more than you'll ever know, really. Now, do you wanna go lay in bed and watch Game of Thrones and order pizza?” His breath tickled against your skin and you nodded. Tony picked you up bridal style and carted you off to bed, where he spent the next three hours continuing to shower you in love because well, he loved you.

Tags: @hootyhoobuckaroo​ @tokoyamisstuff​ @5aftermidnight​ @vinyloider​ @tropicalcap​ @spiider--boy​

[whentheynameyoujoy]

The Problem with Rey, or Where I Fail to Ignore the Bad Trilogy Yet Again

So, in a grand tradition of ignoring my New Year’s resolutions the second after making them, I hereby give up on trying to be less of a sourpuss this year and am going to once more plunge into the pit of negativity that’s the sequel trilogy. Namely, I’m going to put my two cents in that scene in TROS.

Or rather I’m going to try and sus out why it raised no eyebrows with me as I was watching it in the theatre, beyond the obligatory “Oh, callbacks! Cameos! That’s nice. Fuck off.”

After all, it absolutely should have. It’s an ostensible backslide in what passes for character development in these movies, a reversal in the texture of the hero’s journey, of the ST’s sketchy hint of the characters changing from broken immature children into self-actualized adults. And let’s not forget about the horrendous messaging that sees Rey forever entombed in the role of a pure virgin maiden, a replacement golden child that’s vindicated in her tendency to define herself through relations to others instead of becoming her own person.

Christ, the thing is literally golden.

And then it clicked why none of this raised any alarm bells with me.

I just fundamentally don’t take canon Rey seriously as a fictional character.

Mind you, this goes well beyond my inability to play with TROS on its own terms and stop riffing it (though it is a problem) or to view it from the Watsonian perspective instead of constantly remembering that the only reason the movie even exists is not to tell a story with any narrative integrity and artistic honesty, but to make a bazillion dollars and thus it can do without my emotional investment (though that’s also true).

My chief issue is that Rey as a character barely exists.

Now, what I mean by that is that Rey doesn’t conform to the definition of a fictional character as a purposeful construct, a set of distinctive traits making up a defined psychology that informs one’s behaviour and allows one to dictate the plot as its active agent, thus driving the story forward.

What’s confusing about this is that at the start of TFA, Rey had by far the strongest characterization out of anyone, original characters and new (although this stops being true pretty much the moment you notice it).

When we first meet Rey, she’s busy living what can only be described as the Star Wars equivalent of a Dickensian existence—a parentless teenager forced to fight for survival, figuratively and literally, and earn her own living from a very young age. What her life lacks in support and stability, it makes up for in hard labour, hunger, and a crushing sense of cultivated loneliness. There are no meaningful relationships—friendly, familial, or romantic ones—and no prospects, only a desire to escape, or to be more precise to be taken away under a set of specific circumstances. And of course there’s the nagging fear that this might actually be it for her.

This will never stop being ingenious.

What’s most interesting about Rey at this point, though, is her contradictions. As we later learn, she has lashed her sense of identity to the idea of being a temporarily abandoned child, and thus she’s forced herself to live a life of perpetual childhood, waiting for her parents to come back and pluck her from Jakku instead of moving on and carving out her own existence. In a very real sense, although her life has many outward marks of adulthood, she refuses to grow up, going as far as styling herself after her former childhood self and naively asserting her belief that of course putting her life on hold and spending it stuck and waiting is eventually going to be rewarded.

At the same time, though, there are already some cracks in the childish façade that allow us to see the real person beneath—someone with a strong sense of right vs. wrong, to the point where she’s willing to put herself in danger and accept hardships on behalf of others. But her willingness to engage in conflict without a second thought can also be read as underlying anger issues stemming from her sense of abandonment, and a sign that a certain jaded bitterness may have already set in, as evidenced by her unwillingness to deal with BB-8, a non-familial entity, as a friend after saving him.

All of this creates a character who’s barely holding it together, someone bursting out of the childlike costume they’ve constructed for themselves, their mask about to disintegrate and reveal a deeply broken person underneath; a little girl who’s too busy looking into the past instead of living in the present, who doesn’t see herself as an agent in her own story but as someone who’s given meaning by others.

In other words, Rey’s challenge at the beginning of ST is to confront the truths and issues she doesn’t want to face, destroy her shell, and emerge into adulthood as a fully-realized woman.

I hope you enjoyed this bit of psychology as much as I did back in 2015 because it’s the last one she’s going to get.

The moment the movie dies.

From the second Rey meets Finn, she leaves TFA as an agent who shapes the story by her own psychology and development, and spends the rest of the runtime as a passive object that’s dragged along by the plot while having no effect on it, instead being jostled around by the actions of others. Up until the final fight, Rey:

runs away from an enemy she never engaged, who means nothing to her and she nothing to them;

is ambushed by a guy and his pet fuzzball, neither of whom she’s ever met;

is forced into defensive action by a bunch of gangsters who, yet again, have nothing to do with her or her journey;

accidentally releases a convenient plot device she didn’t intend to release. This doesn’t amount to anything;

is introduced to a map she didn’t search for, leading to a person she doesn’t know, has no connection to, and no reason to be interested in;

ends up on a planet she didn’t know about and had no plan to visit;

has her inner conflict verbalized to her by discount Yoda;

has her lights punched out and is bridal carried by the galaxy’s most try-hard Bad Boy Who Ever Baddied for unintentionally viewing the central McGuffin of a storyline that has nothing to do with her or her character conflict;

gets interrogated by an admittedly gorgeous mop of hair which triggers her Force powers, somehow. She never reflects on this;

gets saved by the screenwriter by using a Force power she had no reason to suspect existed.

Only then does she wake up from her slumber to:

fight Kylo Ren in order to protect the unconscious Finn, a type of action she’s performed twice already in regards to BB-8 and thus is nothing new for her;

and finally, having failed to reflect on being Force sensitive or express an ounce of political opinion, join the Resistance for some reason and decide to take on the responsibility of finding Luke Skywalker, a person who still means nothing to her on any level.

Simply put, Rey spends the majority of the movie treading water and then being catapulted into a position the screenwriters want her in, without first sending her on a journey which would bring her to the Resistance and Luke as a natural result of her own choices and actions, not of a series of plot contrivances.

This is further made worse by the fact that Rey’s psychology from the start of TFA when she was still in that wonderful character study test tube? Yeah, it stops existing. Or rather it stops dictating her actions and behaviour. Gone is her unwillingness to permanently entangle herself in the affairs of others and only doing so after a reluctant flare-up of empathy. Now she’s a good sport who’s just happy to be included, guys! There’s also this slight problem where her background leaves no marks on her. She has no interpersonal problems, no trust issues, no bitterness, no jadedness, no sense of abandonment, she isn’t clingy or stand-offish like most people with her experiences would. There’s only the face of childlike joy as she simply goes along for the ride because the movie needs to happen.

And these checks J.J. signed in TFA? They get cashed in TLJ where Rian Johnson is asked to wave his arms and work with a character who’s in a situation she has no internal reason to be in. As a result, instead of having a solid, meaty foundation to examine why Rey has immediately latched onto the Resistance and Jedi after spending so long defining herself through her parents and having no personal or ideological reason to be interested in either, we’re just asked to nod along and pretend that Rey being so deeply invested in any of this makes sense and isn’t worrying in the slightest. And then comes the end where any notion of moral complexity is flushed down the toilet as Rey pulls a Kylo and instead of incorporating what she’s learned into a new worldview and altering her journey, she digs in her heels and returns to the Resistance as, sigh, the last Jedi while, yet again, never examining her attachment to either. The found family trope is awesome, guys, let’s not question it.

So I must admit to not really understanding where this outrage about Rey being locked in permanent childhood by the end of TROS is coming from. She’s never stopped being a child. The sequel trilogy has always preferred to view her as a pure ray of sunshine (pun very vomit-inducingly intended) and an embodiment of good that’s free of internal conflict; a figurative representation of a child who’s spent the movies in a state of arrested development (a few unmotivated moments in TLJ being a notable exception), cycling through different parental figures until she’s finally gotten it right and can now restart her childhood, new and improved.

You may call it yucky but I don’t see how it’s surprising.

[sambergscott]

you’re my, my, my, my... lover

i don’t know what this is but this song is Everything so obviously had to write jake and amy listening to it didn’t i

At this point in their relationship, Amy knows that whenever Taylor Swift releases new music, Jake will listen to it religiously all day. Sometimes the entire week. And she’s not the biggest Taylor fan in the world (certainly no where near her husband’s level), but she does look forward to the way Jake’s eyes light up and the way he hums along during the first few listens before he’s memorised the lyrics. She just wants him to be happy and if that means she has to listen to Taylor’s latest single while they brush their teeth and drive to work and fold laundry, then that’s what she’s going to do.

When she wakes up, he’s already sitting up in bed, his headphones in so as not to disturb her (he really is the sweetest), tears running down his face.

“You OK, babe?” She asks softly, rubbing his shoulder.

He nods, pulling out his headphones. “Track 3 is just... so beautiful.”

“Let me listen?”

He willingly restarts the song and as soon as she starts to sing, Amy gets why it made him so emotional. It’s a love song, soft and slow, kinda like it’s echoing around a grand ballroom as a couple shares their first dance. Her heart pangs, yearning for that moment they never got to have. Jake kisses the top of her head like he’s thinking the same thing, whisper-singing the words as they appear on screen. Already it’s probably Amy’s favourite Taylor song, much more her thing than the more upbeat pop anthems she’s put out of late.

“It’s hella romantic,” Jake says once it’s finished (and before it starts again), a giggle rising in her throat. Only Jake would use the words “hella” and “romantic” in the same breath. “What?” He furrows his brow. “You didn’t like it?”

“I loved it,” she assures him to his immense relief. Obviously they don’t have to like the same things, they are different in almost every way imaginable, but he does like it when she enjoys the things he enjoys and vice versa.

“Want to have a shower with me before work, lover?”

She rolls her eyes at the way he says lover, silently cursing his favourite singer for the fact that he’s now going to call her that constantly. “I suppose it would be more time efficient...” She muses.

“And better for the environment!” He adds, wiggling his eyebrows persuasively.

“Race you there,” she grins.

She beats him by a mile, already naked and under the warm water by the time he joins her, having insisted on finding his Bluetooth speaker in the messy drawer on his side of the bed and connecting it to his phone so they can continue listening to Lover as they shower.

Of course, they don’t end up saving any time or water and are actually running late by the time they’re in the car and listening to it again.

(She wasn’t exaggerating when she said he listens to Taylor’s new music religiously).

Throughout the day, even with him on a different floor, she finds herself humming the melody whilst filling out paperwork at her desk.

“I didn’t know you were a fellow Swiftie,” Gary says, approaching her desk with even more paperwork.

“Oh, I’m not. Jake, on the other hand... huge fan. Huge.”

“He has great taste then.” Ever the Amy, he has been desperate to bond with both her and her husband and she can tell he is pleased that they have something big in common now, like Amy discovering she has the same microwave as Holt and Kevin.

Her phone buzzes with a text from said husband, a screenshot of her contact details in his phone with her name changed to “My Lover ❤️”. She smiles affectionately as she types her response.

You dork.

Can’t help it, Ames. You know Taylor makes me feel things. This song is exactly how I feel about you.

She blushes - hard.

Meet me in Supply Closet B.

10-4, Sarge, he replies, followed by several winking emojis.

They don’t have sex at work, for the record. They have, late at night when nobody else was around. But not today. She just wants a few moments alone with her incredibly sweet husband without Charles crying and Hitchcock and/or Scully making some inappropriate comment.

They kiss a little bit and make a shopping list for their post-work grocery store trip and kiss a little more when Jake suggests they get wine and spend the evenint watching cheesy romcoms.

“Taylor’s got you in a very romantic mood, huh?” Amy teases after agreeing profusely because she has always loved romcoms and especially loves watching them with Jake, knowing she is living the happily ever after they all talk about.

“You complaining?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Nope.” She pecks his lips. “Not at all. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, babe,” he responds, pulling her back for one last kiss before they have to go back to being all boring and professional.

The rest of the afternoon seems to drag on endlessly. She signs what feels like thousands of documents and has to break up an argument between two of her most difficult officers before they can finally go home. They make a quick detour to pick up shower gel, milk and trash bags, deciding to be lazy and order pizza instead of cooking.

Once they’re home and changed into their sweats, their day instantly becomes more enjoyable. They drink wine and eat pizza and snuggle under Amy’s softest comforter as they watch 27 Dresses, which has become one of her favourite movies since she was watching it on the plane back from Texas when she first realised she loved Jake so much. When she told him the story, it quickly became one of Jake’s favourites too.  

“Dance with me,” he murmurs, pausing it before the wedding scene at the end.

“What? Jake, the movie-.”

“I don’t care.” He untangles himself from her, standing up and holding out his hand. “Dance with me.”

A little disgruntled about missing the final scene, she stands up with him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he presses play on his song of the day. She rests her head on his shoulder, smiling into the fabric of his hoodie as they sway in their living room, feeling every line Taylor sings.

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close?

Forever and ever

Take me out and take me home

You’re my, my, my, my...

Lover.

[lexi-pup]

Writetober Day 20: Rescued (Steelbeak’s Hell)

Notes:

And now some comfort for that hurt and whump. 

Warnings: None

Day 20: Rescued

I was driving- well, I guess piloting- my flying SHUSH car over St. Canard in an area that I normally don’t go to. The night was dark and quiet. Part of why I liked doing nightshifts and watching over either Duckburg or St. Canard at night.

It’s been 3 years since I was ‘rescued.’ Though I wouldn’t call it that. If anything, I was lucky that Taurus Bulba didn’t kill me or take me with him as well.

Steelbeak and everything he put me through for those few years never left my mind. No amount of therapy could remove those memories or shove them to the back of my mind where they would be forgotten.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him. Was he still alive or did he get murdered? If so… where was his body at? Did Taurus Bulba destroy it?

We know he was never found if he’s still alive. Or if he is, he didn’t go back to FOWL and probably went off to restart his life somewhere.

Ever since I got the ‘okay’ from several different doctors so I could come back to SHUSH and be an agent again, I’ve wondered what I would do if I ever came across Steelbeak. My first instinct would be to shoot him.

…At least… I hope that’s what my first instinct would be. And not crawl to his side like nothing changed.

As my mind was once again taken over by Steelbeak, I couldn’t help but notice a small cave and a light shining out of it.

‘That’s weird.’ I thought to myself.

“This is Agent 13. Have you guys ever noticed a small cave with a light on over in my area?” I asked through my walkie talkie.

“Yeah but I never thought anything of it. Just a camper, yah know?” Another agent responded.

“Maybe. But something feels weird about it. I’m going to investigate it just to be sure.” I replied.

“It’s probably just a camper. But alright.” A different agent said.

“I’ll let you know when I get back what it is for sure.” I said and turned the walkie talkie off.

I lowered my car down and landed it on the ground a short distance away from the opening. Putting it into park, I took the keys out and put them in my pocket as I stepped out of it.

Going into the cave, I couldn’t shake the weird and now bad feeling that I had so I ended up taking my gun from it’s holster on my hip. Holding it up in front of me, my finger was off the trigger but ready if needed.

I looked around the entrance of the cave and saw lanterns were where the light was coming from. Which makes sense if it was campers.

But there was mechanical and robotic stuff all over the place. It didn’t look like any campers were there since there wasn’t any sleeping bags or tents or anything. Just robotic stuff.

There was other junk here and there. I even noticed a radio and a TV. How either worked all the way out here, who knows. But I figured the owner had somehow fixed them to work with the antennae. I also saw some other things like a couch, a table with two chairs, a small side table that was by the couch, and a pet bed on the ground too.

I stopped and stared at the pet bed for a moment, a chill going up and down my spine. I began to take deep breaths to calm myself down. That was over and in the past… I didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

But now new questions was thought of. Where are the owners of this stuff and their pet? As far as I can tell, I’m the only one here and there wasn’t any other vehicles outside either.

Going into the back of the cave, I noticed there was some more areas that were lit up but one that wasn’t. I turned my shoulder light on and slowly stepped inside the pitch black room. Thanking god I had put that on my shoulder before I headed out for patrol.

I walked around the room and couldn’t find anything outside of more pet stuff like food bowls, food bag, and so on. That was until I walked closer to the furthest wall and the furthest corner.

I was half expecting a barking dog to go ballistic when my light shined on a big metal cage sitting all alone in the corner and in the dark.

But that wasn’t the case. Instead, I found a person laying curled up in the cage and with their back to me. I kneeled down, wondering if I was imaging things or experiencing some kind of déjà vu. But I know that wasn’t the case. This was very much real and this person needed help.

And I plan on doing that. Because even if I wasn’t an agent for SHUSH, I would still help people when I can.

I went to unlatch the cage only to find there was no latch. Looking at the bars closely, it seemed they were constantly being bent to make a opening before being put back into place.

Makes sense, this guy seemed pretty big despite being malnourished. Even then, he wouldn’t of been able to bend the bars but he probably could’ve stuck a finger or two through and unlatched the cage. Then escape on his own and fight whoever in the meantime.

I looked back to the man when I saw movement. But I could still hear snoring so I knew he was still sleeping. He was laying on a large dog bed and had a blanket over his legs.

Despite the blanket, I was still able to see he was only wearing boxers and something might’ve been around his neck but I couldn’t tell for sure if it’s what I knew it likely was or not. It was obvious that he was a rooster from his feet, head, and tail feathers alone.

My ears pinned down when it finally hit me who it was.

“Steelbeak!?” I couldn’t help but mutter out loud.

I looked his back over and could see a large scar of some kind of a design from his shoulders down to his tail feathers. No doubt that was Taurus Bulba branding him in his own way.

Now the bent bars made sense. Steelbeak couldn’t bend them but Taurus can. But… how come he never used his beak? Unless he did at some point until he was tortured into never doing that again.

A hand slipped under my shirt and I felt my own branding that Steelbeak gave me on both of my sides.

Another chill went down my spine but I managed to push those memories away for the time being. I can’t have a panic attack right now. Not when a certain someone was creeping around.

However, the cave was still quiet aside from his snoring and my heavy breathing. Taurus moved loudly due to being a cyborg. I remembered that perfectly. I would know when he was near.

‘Maybe he isn’t here? Which means I need to work fast.’ I thought to myself as I slowly and quietly holstered my gun.

My ears shot back up at that thought as I took a small laser out and began to quietly cut the front bars off and set them down to the side. There was some clings and clangs but it was mostly quiet, thankfully.

After doing that, I was surprised that he still wasn’t awake. A part of me would’ve thought he was dead if I wasn’t able to see him breathe and snore in his sleep.

I put the laser away and slowly crawled inside the cage and up to him.

“Steelbeak? Hey buddy, you gotta wake up.” I quietly said as I shook his arm as gently as possible.

Now that I was closer, I could see all of the bruises all over his body. His beak even seemed bent and damaged in some way. He was definitely malnourished. And I could see the shock collar around his neck clearly now.

It seemed different than the one I had so he must’ve replaced it. Under it was what looked to be a choke chain with a D-ring. There was also some extra chain behind it to make it easier to grab and pull. The spikes were going into his neck and I could see how bloody and bruised it was just from the chain alone.

“Steelbeak…” I trailed off.

Finally, he jerked awake. I quickly grabbed his beak and held it shut since I didn’t know what he would’ve done. It’s been three years. When I was at that point, I absolutely would’ve called for him about an intruder. And there was a good chance he would do the same now.

“Shh… it’s okay. It‘s okay, Steelbeak.” I quietly said as he began to struggle under me. “It’s me… your favorite SHUSH agent. Remember?”

This seemed to of calmed him down as he looked up to me. I watched as he lifted a hand to the light and moved it so it shined on me until he let it go and moved his hand back.

“I’m going to move my hands away from your beak, okay? You’re not going to call for Taurus Bulba, right?”

He gave me a sad look and I watched him tap at the collar.

“What…?” I asked as I released his beak.

Steelbeak didn’t make a sound as he tapped it again.

“You… you can’t talk, can you?” I asked and he nodded sadly.

That wasn’t just a shock collar… that was a bark collar. Great. Now I need to figure out how to get that off.

“I’m going to try and take it off.” I whispered, slowly reaching behind his neck and grabbed at it.

I played with it for a minute until I realized there wasn’t any kind of buckle on it. So it must’ve been like mine where he needed a remote to take it off after it locks on.

“Okay. New plan.” I say as I moved my hands away from him. “I’ll deal with that later. I’m really sorry. You’ll have to deal with them for a little while longer. I don’t feel uncomfortable taking the chain off without any kind of medical supplies. Come on. Let’s go home.”

I’m not quite sure why I’m even bothering to help him. I guess at this point Taurus Bulba is the bigger of the two evils. And considering how it seems like what he did to me, happened to him, I can’t help but have some sympathy towards the son of a bitch.

I began to crawl backwards, expecting him to follow. But he didn’t. Steelbeak was looking down at his hands and only sat up once I got off of him and backed away.

“Steelbeak?” I started, quietly. “Come on.”

Steelbeak looked up and shook his head. Oh god he wasn’t… There was just no way he was broken. Right?

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you. That’s what an agent of SHUSH does. They save and protect people.” I added.

He still didn’t move towards me so I moved back over to him. He was visibly shaking when I did though. And lowered himself so he wasn’t taller than me while sitting on our heels.

I sighed and gently grabbed the sides of his face with both hands. And rested my forehead against his.

“You know he’s a bad person. You know what he has done to you is illegal.”

Steelbeak inched closer to me, still shaking a little bit.

“I… I’ve missed you.” I lied. “Let’s go home. You don’t belong here with him. And you know that deep down, you aren’t a pet either.”

He pulled away and began tapping at the bottom of the cage. Then he pointed to me and tapped the bottom of the cage again before pointing to himself. It took me a minute but I finally caught on.

“Do… you want me to stay?” I asked if that was it and he nodded. “I can’t stay here and go round 2. Same abuse, different person.”

Steelbeak frowned and lowered his head. Whether it was because I wasn’t staying or because I reminded him of what he did to me, I’m not sure.  

“But I can’t leave you here either.” I added. “I promise I’ll protect you from Taurus Bulba. And I’m not angry at you anymore about what you did to me. If I was still angry, I wouldn’t be trying to help you now. What happened is in the past. Let’s move on. Whether it be as friends or enemies is up to you to decide later once we’re safe and away from here. You… you don‘t deserve to go through this. Not anymore. I think three years is long enough since that’s about as long as you had me.”

Steelbeak finally looked at me again with tears at the corners of his bruised eyes. I filled the small gap between us and slowly raised my hand towards him. He visibly flinched but otherwise didn’t move as I wiped the tear that had come out.

“See? I’m not angry. Let’s leave before he-” I stopped talking at a sound.

Then I heard loud footsteps. Fuck! Steelbeak must’ve heard them too because he gave me the most petrified look that I’ve ever seen him give me. I shushed him and turned the shoulder light off. I gently took him by the hand and slowly crawled out of the cage with him following. I backed up until I was against the opposite wall.

The memories of running and hiding from Taurus Bulba flooded my mind as we sat there. Almost in the same positions that we were in that night just the other way around.

I listened for the footsteps as I heard them come closer. Taurus walked by the room to the main area and entrance. I mentally prayed that he wouldn’t see my car or stay there all night.

My prayers seemed to of been answered since I heard him walk back this way and to whatever area he came from. Once the footsteps had quieted down completely and I felt he was a good distance away, I slowly moved.

I didn’t turn my light back on but used the wall to stand back up. Steelbeak was still holding my hand and I slowly got him up too. I felt him grab my shoulders, trying to steady himself as I held his waist.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold him up and keep an eye out for Taurus Bulba at the same time.

“Hey buddy, get back down. I’m going to need you to crawl beside me alright? I can’t protect you and hold you up at the same time.” I whispered as I slowly helped him back down.

I took my gun out and held it in my left hand as my right held the back of his shock collar so I could guide him out of the dark room. My left arm still on the wall and letting me know when I made it to the opening.

As quietly as possible, I led him out to the main area and straight to my car. There was no time to get him to the passenger seat so I opened the back door and sat him down there.

What I didn’t realize was that Taurus Bulba was watching us on his motion cameras. He knew the whole time I was there and simply wanted to see what I would do.

“There.” I shut the back door, keys already in my other hand.

I opened the driver’s door and quickly stuck the keys in the ignition. Right as I turned the car on and was about to shut my door, I felt something grab me by the neck and drag me back to the cave.

Before I could even come to terms with being choked, I was thrown down onto the hard ground.

I grunted as I looked up at the feet that was standing directly in front of me and I internally cursed as I rubbed my neck. Looking up, Taurus Bulba was standing in front of me with his arms crossed and looking extremely pissed off.

“Well, I didn’t expect you of all people to try and rescue that dumb mutt.” Taurus said in his normal tone.

I unintentionally flinched at that and Taurus caught it.

“Ah yes… he probably called you that, didn’t he? At least you got an actual name unlike him. I just call him whatever degrading name I can think of at the time. What did he call you again? Lucy? Layla?”

“L-Lucky.” My voice cracked as I got to my hands and knees.

“That was it!” Taurus kneeled down and grabbed my snout. “Because it was ironic for your situation, yes?”

“Hm hmm.” I nodded, my ears lowering on their own.

“Well, I don’t appreciate it when someone tries to steal my property. Now… you had a chance to get back to your old life a few years ago. Do you want that chance again?” Taurus asked, letting go of my snout.

“Obviously.” I rubbed my snout.

“You have two choices. Either leave alone or you don’t leave at all.” Taurus said before adding “You got 10 seconds to decide before I decide for you.”

As we were talking, Steelbeak was figuring out his own options while still in the back of my car. He didn’t want to stay here with him but he didn’t want anything to happen to me either.

He looked at the front area and the different buttons that was near the radio and cup holders. Surely there was… yes! Steelbeak smiled to himself when he saw a SOS button.

After pressing it, it began to silently blink. He hoped that meant that SHUSH would be notified and would get here ASAP.

Slowly, he got out of the car to come over to us. Taurus smiled when he crawled over on all fours and sat beside me.

“Good dog.” Taurus said, patting him on the head. “What do you think we should do with this stray?”

Steelbeak and I looked at each other for a minute as he thought about it.

Then he pointed to the collar before pointing it to me.

“Hmm… I was going to euthanize her but okay. I think you know not to make a sound by now, don’t you?” Taurus asked, taking the remote to his collar out and pressing a button.

The collar unlocked and Taurus grabbed it off of his neck. Revealing a very bloody and bruised ring around his neck and his feathers.

I jumped up and grabbed at the arm that was holding the collar.

“Steelbeak, get back to the car!” I quickly said as Taurus tried to throw me off of himself.

“Stay here, you damn dog!” Taurus ordered and Steelbeak listened to him.

Taurus finally managed to throw me a couple of feet away. I grunted again since this time I landed on my arm very hard. I rolled over onto my stomach, about ready to push myself up when I was suddenly pinned down.

I was surprised to find Steelbeak on top of me and grabbing my arms to hold them behind me. He also moved my ponytail so it was off to the side.

“Good dog.” Taurus chuckled as he came up to us.

Taurus tightened the collar up as much as he could before he forced it around my neck and locked it in place.

“I think the bad dog deserves a big shock for that alone. Clearly someone needs to be retrained.” Taurus laughed as he pressed a button.

My yelp of pain startled Steelbeak who jumped off of me as I began to whine and shake on the ground. Taurus put the remote away and enjoyed the first show of many.

It finally stopped and I was in the middle of telling him to fuck off when the collar shocked me again without him even pressing a button. Right. This is apparently a bark collar. I can’t make a sound with it on.

The pain went away again and I just laid there. Trying to think of a plan to save us both.

“Are you going to bark or whine again?” Taurus asked and I shook my head. No. Not right now. “Good. Let’s go.”

Taurus grabbed me by the collar and whistled at Steelbeak.

We were about to go into the cave when we heard helicopters above us and a bright light shined down right onto us.

Taurus let go of me and flew up to deal with them. In the meantime, some more flying cards flew down and parked with their headlights on us.

“SH-USH?” Steelbeak quietly said and trembled beside me.

I strangely felt better when he was finally able to speak. Even if it was in a voice that clearly needed some speech therapy after so long.

All I could do was nod as I slowly rubbed his back. Then I got his attention and wrote SOS on my hand. He nodded, confirming that he did press that button and that’s why they were here.

“Agent 13? And… Steelbeak?” A few agents came towards us.

I got in front of him and tapped at my neck. One got the message and came over to look at it. Now that there was a bright light shining on it, they were able to use some tools in their car to get it off without the remote. We confirmed it was just us three so the other agents went back to the sky to help defeat Taurus Bulba.

“There. It’s off now.” Agent 19 said, removing the collar.

“Thank god. I couldn’t make a sound with it on.” I replied, turning back around to face her.

“Bark collar?” She asked and I nodded. “God these are awful! Both on dogs and people!”

“How do you think he feels?” I asked, side stepping to show Steelbeak sitting on the ground and leaning against the car. “He had it on for roughly three years.”

“Yeah but… didn’t he have one on you too?” She questioned.

“Not quite. It wasn’t a bark collar.” I replied. “Since I’m sure you guys got things handled here, I’m going to take him to the hospital.”

“V-eeet?” Steelbeak moaned.

“No vet.” I shook my head. “Hospital.”

“Oh geez… that’s… I’m not sure how to feel about that…”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one feeling conflicted.” I replied to her.

“I’ll let the other agents know you took both of you to safety far away from here where he can’t hurt either of you anymore.” Agent 19 said.

“Thank you.” I nodded and helped him up again. “Come on, buddy. We’re going to my car.”

Once he was settled in the passenger seat and buckled. I jumped into the driver’s seat and quickly took to the sky. Once we were a good distance away from there, I pressed a button.

“Where would you like to go?” The car asked.

“St. Canard hospital.” I said.

“Okay. Auto piloting to St. Canard Hospital. Would you like me to get there quickly?” The car asked.

“Yes.” I confirmed. “Emergency.”

“Understood. Heading to St. Canard Hospital at emergency speed.” The car started to fly much faster and on it’s own.

“I love technology.” I smiled to myself. “The one downside is that the landing is still a bit off so you have to quickly turn it off and do it yourself.”

I heard an attempt to chuckle beside me and looked at Steelbeak, who was now frowning and touching his neck.

“Hey buddy, don’t do that and agitate it. The doctors will take care of everything. Did you find what I said funny?”

He trembled again and I slowly held one of his hands with mine.

“It’s okay. You can do that again and not be scared of getting hurt. Hearing you try to laugh actually made me feel a lot better.”

“So…rry.”

“For what? Having him put the collar on me?” I asked and he nodded in confirmation. “Don’t worry about it. That was actually really smart and you may have saved my life doing it.”

Steelbeak slowly moved and wrapped him arms around me, giving me a tight hug. Sighing, I hugged him back.

My original plan was to get him to the hospital, contact SHUSH about the situation, and hoped that would be it outside of having to deal with Taurus Bulba eventually. But now I’m not sure if I can leave him and not ever come back to visit with a good conscience.

Why was I cursed to be such a good person… even to my worst enemy…

[jackdawyt]

Most of you will have heard about this recent article by Jason Schreier as he comments on the current state of BioWare, Anthemand the next Dragon Age game's development. I'm glossing over the whole 'Anthem is a mess' narrative, and jumping straight to the important juicy Dragon Age news.

So, without further ado, it's imperative that we just jump straight into this story from the very start! So let's crack on with it!

The production on Dragon Age 4 {title still not announced} reportedly started in 2017, under the leadership of Mark Darrah and veteran Dragon Age creative director Mike Laidlaw.

With the departure of studio general manager Aaron Flynn and Anthem in a desperate state, Darrah was parachuted into theAnthem team as executive producer.

This iteration of Dragon Age 4 was code-named Joplin, and those who were working on it have stated that they were excited by creative director Mike Laidlaw’s vision for the project.

The project was named after Janis Joplin as the game aims to be revolutionary for the Role-Playing Game genre, proving to be a landmark on the franchise.

The next Dragon Age will also be the fourth installment in the series following in the same vein as Janis Joplin and her massive success with her fourth album launch, BioWare felt inspired to name the project after Janis' achievements.

However, Anthem received flack, by October, it was on fire. BioWare had decided to make some massive changes.

That summer, studio general manager Aaryn Flynn departed, to be replaced by a returning Casey Hudson.

As part of this process, the studio canceled Joplin. Laidlaw quit shortly afterward, and BioWare restarted Dragon Age 4 with a tiny team under the code name 'Morrison'.

The code name Morrison is a call back to Jim Morrison, a legendary American songwriter renowned for being an influential front-man in rock history. He went on to create the rock band - The Doors.

This is what was meant when we heard the news that the next Dragon Age project had been 'rebooted', the fact that Laidlaw left, with his creative vision.

Morrison is seemingly what remains of the skeleton team working on Dragon Age 4, the likes of Patrick Weekes, John Epler, Mark Darrah, Nick Thornborrow, etc. Each of these developers are Dragon Age franchise veterans.

Meanwhile, the studio moved the bulk of Dragon Age 4’s developers to Anthem, which needed all of the company’s resources if it was going to hit the ship date that EA was demanding.

One big change that’s already been enacted at BioWare is a new technology strategy.

Developers still at the studio say that under Casey Hudson, rather than start from scratch yet again, the next Dragon Age will be built on Anthem’s codebase.

BioWare have stated that they will share more on what this means for the game in the near future.

Parts of 'sharing Anthem's codebase' mean that BioWare will avoid throwing out huge amounts of work developers put into adapting Frostbite.

Jason Schereir has confirmed on Reddit that we'll be getting an updated news story hopefully this week regarding Dragon Age 4 in the near future.

Of course, you're already in the right place when the second that information drops, which should be this week!

Okay so opinion time!

The fact that Dragon Age was pushed aside for the likes of Anthem is upsetting to all BioWare fans, however, I feel this isn't the most pressing news to be alarmed about.

Regarding the whole, Dragon Age 4 will share the same codebase as Anthem, all this means is that the next Dragon Age will build on the existing tech used for Anthem. This is exactly what I mentioned in my previous video, the idea that sharing resources on the Frostbite Engine would be handy for BioWare given the trouble with the Frostbite engine.

Sharing the same codebase is in no way, shape or form declaring that the next Dragon Age game will be multiplayer, we already know that their working on a separate multiplayer feature for the game, as they've hired a new, side team to embark on that task alongside the development of the main game.

How I envision Dragon Age 4 basing it's codebase on Anthem's is simply by using it's most upgraded presets within the Frostbite engine as BioWare have constantly innovated it with three previous games, each systematically adding and changing mechanics within the software.

Dragon Age: Inquisition layered the foundations for their first role-playing game in the Frostbite engine, Mass Effect Andromedastretched out the engine with larger maps and fast vehicle usage, and Anthem innovated with it's flying mechanics with a streamed-in world.

I've seen a lot of people worried about using Anthem's codebase and what could this mean, and by a lot of people I mean Reddit. One particular comment I noted said, why don't BioWare just use the same codebase as Dragon Age: Inquisition since that was the previous RPG title that the team is most comfortable with.

Well, if you think about it, the codebase for Inquisition is at least 5 years old now, and not to mention a large part of that games was brought down due to previous game-generation limitations, as Inquisition released on both PS3 and Xbox 360. It's probably a super outdated preset on the Frostbite engine, whereas Anthem's codebase is higher tech, more developed and not to mention super recent.

It makes sense for Dragon Age 4 to share the same codebase and resources as Anthem, this is in no way saying that the next Dragon Age is going to be stickily multiplayer, it's just an improvement regarding the tech of the Frostbite engine.

I feel a lot of these confessed mistakes for Anthem's developments show an optimistic light for the next Dragon Age game, BioWare are embracing their mistakes once more, this time with Anthem and BioWare's A team.

They've learned throughout the course of creating three games on the Frostbite engine, each from scratch is a very hard thing to do. So instead, they've decided only now for the next Dragon Age, they're going to share the presets from their most recent, previous title.

This is exactly the same situation as how Fallout 4 is built upon Skyrim's engine, they ported the presets of their tech for Skyrim into a next generation level of the Creation Engine and then began creating Fallout 4. If anything, I see this as a positive, it shows that BioWare have learned how chaotic the Frostbite engine is, and now they've decided to make their lives easier, they can actually speed up development on new projects because they'll have a template and needn't start from scratch.

And judging my Anthem's latest tech within the engine, the gameplay is super fun, the world is streamed in and allows for tight flight controls whilst looking beautiful all at the same time. I've made a video literally explaining the Frostbite engine's developments with Anthem, and how they pave the way for Dragon Age 4.

Using previous games as build templates just sounds like a typical games design motto, I feel perhaps this gets bad press because Anthem wasn't a BioWare epic and it's an always online multiplayer experience, however, the motivation is still the same.

Moving on, It's disheartening to see that BioWare have responded with an underwhelming, lacking reply which attempts to throw shade at the likes of Jason Schreier who're just showcasing the mistakes of Anthem, so BioWare can learn.

It's almost hypercritical, it's like we, as a studio can call our games a mistake, but how dare you point out the flaws and call it journalism.

To nip this in the bud, I feel like there are two teams within BioWare, the sympathetic developers who deeply love their games, and will actually come out and say when something went wrong, as noted by Jason's sources.

And then there's the EA side in BioWare, who're conflicted against them, controlling every word from the studio and not accepting room for growth or improvement.

We can see from Jason's article that plenty of the BioWare developers have spoke out, regarding the studio and Anthem's developments, there not all EA puppets. So, there's seemingly a few decent bunch in the studio who care for sharing the studio's current state to the public.

Trying to end this positively, the fact that the next Dragon Age has been 'rebooted' shows that the studio hasn't given up on this franchise, that there trying to work it out in the best way possible, that they will give the game it's due time and care. And lets not forget the masterminds working on the project as mentioned before!

If the title had merely been a failure without Mike Laidlaw's vision, they'd have given up on the game, but no, there's still hope for the future of this franchise. They've found a way to reboot the project, following a different vision and seemingly unique enough to be given a new project title.

It doesn't seem like it'll be that long before we hear what this could potential mean, and how the next Dragon Age as been rebooted, examining what the differences are between project Joplin and Morrison.

Sheer speculation on my part, but other than Jason delving into when we'll hear from Dragon Age next, I feel he could have a bigger story on the horizon.

[taylorroger-s]

ten things [2] // borhap!roger taylor x reader

a/n umm?? holy fuck the first one got way more love than i expected it to. thank you for all the kind words, it’s really motivating. this one is pretty fluffy, but no romance just yet ;) if y’all wanna request stuff (headcanons, one shots, and the like) you need only ask. just, no lemons. i trust y’all know what that means.

oh, and if any of you want to be added to the taglist, you need only ask

enjoy :)

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and the way you cut your hair

“i swear meddows, you need a haircut.” you shook your head at the drummer, flopping back on the low couch after hours of listening to the boys record. it had been three weeks since freddie's party, and you had been spending more and more time with the band.

john was highly witty, played guitar in addition to bass, and was always doing a little dance while he played his instrument. he loved throwing peanuts in brian's wild mane, especially since he could barely feel them. you two would laugh while brian struggled to find out why you kept on avoiding eye contact with him and giggling like maniacs.

brian, in your opinion, was a total genius in both guitar and astrophysics. while it wasn't his turn to play, he would answer all of your questions about the cosmos, almost always  launching into some in depth tangent about how stars are formed or a similar topic. you learned more from him in a few weeks than what you'd studied during all of primary school. it was truly satisfying to see someone who found their calling in life.

freddie of course was completely indescribable. he had a strong sense of self and wouldn't let any naysayers compromise his confidence or attack the band. you often said he had the voice of an angel who learned to walk on earth. you were enamored by his groundbreaking ideas that only made the band more recognizable. it was clear to see why mary loved him.

roger turned out to be less of a wanker than you assumed. you both had a chuckle once you realized that he too studied biology at east london polytechnic. he wouldn't let anyone fiddle with his drum set, nor did he let anyone drive his car. his ability to hit ridiculously high notes while still drums perfectly was considerably impressive. he always knew what to say to induce the most laughter, leaving the whole gang in stitches once everyone started cracking jokes at each other. once you found out his middle name was “meddows”, that was your permanent nickname for him. but that didn’t mean you didn’t hate him.

that day was just like any other. brian spun idly in his chair, curly head of hair bouncing with the beat of deaky's newest bass riff. freddie was fast asleep on the couch, head resting in mary’s lap. you were next to her listening to deaky play, flipping through a thick novel you had borrowed from brian on how moons are formed.

the air smelled faintly of cigarettes and cheap perfume, thanks to roger smoking with his arm around another lanky woman. she had his blond locks wrapped around her finger, other hand resting on his knee. it seemed like he had a different girl by his side each time you saw him. in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder why he never stuck to just one.

mary was fast asleep at your side, head cradled in your lap. she looked so peaceful, letting out little puffs of air in a steady rhythm. they had been working late into the night, you and mary there to keep them company like usual. truthfully, you all did more goofing off then recording. whenever someone was behind the glass, the ones waiting would make ridiculous faces in hopes they would crack and have to restart the recording.

but the long day had taken a toll. freddie had gone with miami to pick the gang up some food, drastically lowering the energy that shook through the room in his presence. without his vibrant spirit, the world felt like it was moving slowly through molasses. after meeting him, your world would never be the same.

the comfortably silent atmosphere was broken by an abrupt ringing coming from a phone mounted in the wall. you all glanced up in unison, brian about to pick up the receiver before roger’s current plaything hopped to her feet and held out a hand to stop him.

“i’ll get it!” she announced, nearly skipping her way to the far wall. Brian slowly sat back down, glancing over to you with a quizzical look in his eyes. You shrugged back, yet you kept a keen eye on her back, suspicious as to why she rushed to pick up the call. she must have expected it, and told whoever was on the other line to call her at the studio. strange. you didn’t think much more of it, just wanting to return to your book and be a pillow for your dearest older sister.

but the latter ended due to your sister being a painfully light sleeper. her face contorted as she tried to go back to sleep, but the groupie’s incessant chatter made sure that did not happen. deaky and roger seemed to be the only ones without a significant reaction to the girl. roger readjusted in his seat, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

mary soon sat up, stretching arms high with a deep sigh escaping her lips. a patterned quilt was thrown across her shoulders, brought by you from home in anticipation of situations like that. “‘morning m, slept well?” she stuck her tongue out at you and leaned back on to your lap.

“could have used a little more. how do these boys manage to live with little sleep and still manage to play like that?” you couldn’t help but giggle at the dazed look on her face, blonde hair tangled on one side of her head. after planting a quick kiss on her forehead, you opened your book and flipped to where you had left off. A beat passed before roger’s plaything hung up the phone, striding over to him with her hip swaying gently. she slid onto his lap, interrupting his subconscious air drumming along with deaky’s riff. he shifted uncomfortably from the sudden intrusion, but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around her waist and whisper playfully in her ear. she giggled lightly and pressed her lips to his, before pushing herself back off the chair and brushing off her skirt.

“i’m gonna head, catch ya later rog.” she announced, throwing a wink in the drummer’s direction. he gave her one back, baby blue eyes following her until the door to the recording studio swung shut. mary’s sleepy gaze switched between roger and the door, brows furrowed slightly.

“who was that? christ, how long have i been asleep?” she shifted and curled up against your side, chin resting in the crook of your elbow. her eyes struggled to stay open as she waited for an answer, goofy smile fixed on her lips.

“that is meddow’s newest plaything, no clue her name. it’s been an hour. give or take.” mary groaned and placed her head back in your lap. “why do girls fawn over him constantly,” mary mumbled into a blanket, trying in vain to fall back asleep. roger raised his eyebrow at the two of you, cigarette barely an inch from burning all up. he took another puff, blowing the light gray smoke out through his nose before reaching over and sticking it in the ashtray. brian and deaky had wandered into the recording space, experimenting with ways they could change the sounds of their instruments. muffled laughter could be heard through the thick soundproofing, only sound besides mary’s even breaths since she had fallen back asleep, and the infrequent turn of a page from you.

“it’s totally the hair.” the sound of his voice startled you, still laced with a cocksure tone. he grinned at your bewildered expression, still surprised that he decided to answer you. That soon wore off and you rolled your eyes.

“definitely not. it’s so long. and shaggy. And always so messy.” roger laughed, getting up to sit next to you and mary on the couch. he smelled of cigarette smoke mixed with a lemony sort of cologne. or was it shampoo?

why am i thinking about how he smells? freaking new-girl-every-night meddows.

“pfft yeah right, y/n. you’re just jealous because my hair is prettier than yours.” he flipped his blond locks over his shoulder, grinning at you with a sideways smile. you narrowed your eyes at him, turning back to you.

“in your dreams .” you muttered absentmindedly, one hand brushing the hair covering the face of your sister. a small sneeze came from her sleeping form, not disturbing her slumber in the slightest. you loved your sister more than anything in the world, she had been there for you through thick and thin. from learning to ride the underground to rushing university applications, she had been by your side every step of the way. at that moment, you were sure you would never love anyone as much as you loved her, and that no one would love you as much as she did.

the band did make you feel a great deal more loved than you had with just mary by your side, even after just a few weeks. vivacious freddie always had a kind word or sincere encouragement to give. sweet deaky had biting sarcasm and self deprecating humor that never failed to cheer you up. brian would listen to your rants for hours, and you two would argue over the validity of astrology between songs.

as for meddows, you hated him. you hated his cocky demeanor, promiscuous rockstar attitude, and nonchalant ignorance. he had no sense of commitment, the only people who he was loyal to being the band and no one else. all he did was break hearts and chain smoke. you could not imagine a redeeming trait existing under all that muck.

“it adds to the vibe. i like it long.” he lit his second cigarette, blowing a small puff of tobacco smoke in your face. you scrunched up your face, shooting him a dark scowl. roger just laughed at your angered expression, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“i swear meddows, you need a haircut.” you shook your head, turning away from the long haired drummer boy. freddie finally burst through the door, breaking the brief silence that had fallen over your side of the studio. him and miami had pizza boxes in hand, jackets slick with rain from the outside.

“hello children, sustenance has arrived! where is my love mary?” you waved freddie over, pointing at the sleeping woman on your lap. he knelt at her left, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. she was slowly starting to wake once freddie had re entered, smiling sleepily at him by her side. brian and deaky came through the recording space door, laughing at the stupid was deaky had arranged brian’s hair. roger stood, joining deaky in poking fun at brian's multiple pigtails tied by loose rubber bands. mary had moved to sit by your side, freddie’s arm wrapped around her. you strode up to miami, striking up a conversation while the rest of the group had their own fun.

munching on some pizza, you smiled at the scene in front of you. everyone was so relaxed and happy. your heart swelled. you knew, deep in your heart, that you had found your family.

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

like i said, pure fluff. but plot is coming in the next part. should be up saturday or sunday.

taglist!!

@afirstclassloser @isabella-bby @guiltyissues @emothrash @moveimbi @thatgeekspeak @ilikecoffeecupsmorethancoffee @maiauniversetime @allieburakovsky @70srogertaylor @therealwatermelon @rogersfalsettos @cosmiclunas @anamcg317 @dreamer821 @bibahbubah @sabbrriiinnaa

[thequietoftheroom]

Hi. Is this thing on? Lauren Graham said in her new book that we should write more so this is my attempt at that. Oh by the way, I started reading again. I write these for myself so why don’t I just use “we”, but that will probably be weird reading it back. I’ve read Feminasty: The Complicated Woman’s Guide To Surviving The Patriarchy Without Drinking Herself To Death, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice On Love And Life From Dear Sugar, and now I’m almost done with Talking As Fast As I Can: From Gilmore Girls To Gilmore Girls. I’ve gone through several lists to pick out the books I plan on reading in the next few months, at least if I can afford them, but I like to think the books I ultimately bought found me and not the other way around. I have been read cover to cover, my soul pierced, and my mind opened. Of course fiction books have a similar effect but I never thought I would be interested in what people had to say about this grand thing called life and I learned that I cared a whole lot, not because I wanted to model myself after them but because I care about people and reading their explanations on life is like suddenly remembering they’re my best friends and they’re just catching me up on little secrets that come packed with nuggets of wisdom. 

I got myself into several situations I never planned on getting myself into even though the red flags were there and even though the people very openly said “Hey, this is exactly who I am”, but you know how your mind works when you have anxiety and depression. You start to convince yourself the puzzle pieces you find yourself assembling are actually part of the picture even though they don’t fit because deep down you’re trying to finish the puzzle of your life and no one is giving you quite the right pieces. In other words, and to quote my friend Allie, I drank a nice glass of “dumb bitch” juice. Which lead me to want to consider joining a dating site sooner than I planned. I know these things take time but it’s been 3 days and I’ve sent 40 likes (I think that’s how okcupid works idk) and practically got 0 back. Here’s why that sucks. On okcupid they focus strongly on your personality and beliefs. So someone not only saw my face and said “yeesh no thanks” they took the time to get to know the information about myself I put on there and were still like “yikes I don’t think so”. So all in all this was an experiment in derailing my self esteem and increasing my depression. What crazy color will I dye my hair to suddenly avoid dealing with my problems? Or maybe I’ll give myself another buzzcut. Stay tuned!

On a serious note, a lot of the stories I’m reading made me SO relieved that at 27 I’m still very much single and have only had 1 relationship which wasn’t that great (it was both of our faults). There were so many stories and anecdotes about young love being messy and about true commitment coming in your 40′s. Honestly, idk if I can wait that long. If NASA and the CIA and the FBI were like “you have been randomly selected to test mating with androids” I’d be like “yes please but can I choose their face”. I mean realistically I’m in the worst position to be in a relationship. For one, I don’t have much money saved because I’m sadly addicted to ordering things online, most of which are either useful to me or to my job (and no I don’t get reimbursed but I think the prospect of waiting for something in the mail to kill time is momentarily greater than the prospect of having more money later). I still live at home. Obviously, that’s a hella yikes and tbf I’m reading to get the fuck out of here but {see A: i have no money} and I have no one to move in with. I keep doing extensive research but I learned that in 2018 everywhere is problematic. So as much as my love for NYC is slowly fading I also realize this is it for me! I’m a city gal who needs to be surrounded by diversity. I can’t do suburbs and I can’t do living near more than 50% white people. I’ll die. I know that’s discriminatory but we are in the dawn of BBQ Beckys so can you blame me when the majority of white people keep voting against my existence. So I’m stuck. Every once in a while I look up “most LGBT friendly places to live” or “least racist places to live” and hope there’s a magical place with both but there isn’t (especially since, hello, twinks are hella racist). But I’ve literally cuddled my body pillow to death: it broke apart and I need a new one. And I learned I can’t fall asleep unless I’m cuddling it because I’m that lonely.

Everything in life is so complicated. I hate not being out at work but at the same time everyone there is ignorant so I wouldn’t be any more comfortable having them walking on eggshells around me. I love the individuals though and sometimes I feel very motherly or big brotherly towards them and they make me REALLY love work. But I want to be me. And I want to get rid of my legal name. Every time someone calls me John I die inside. Sometimes I don’t even respond because I have to be like “oh shit that’s me”. Can I change my name now? Probably, just have to have the money and redo all my paperwork at work? Will i? No because then either a) the individuals will have to learn my new name and their lives are confusing as fuck as it is or b) i keep my current legal name as a nickname but then it will get confusing for paperwork. I don’t like inconveniencing people that much even for something super important to me. I’ll just die inside until I save enough money, do my last few undergrad psyche classes, and then get into grad school. So like in 5 years, knowing me.

I’ve developed some little crushes here and there but most of the time it’s people that live out of reach or are straight or bottoms or any combination of them or I can just tell they will never like me in that way. So honestly, why bother. I miss the days when I didn’t care about this and the only thing plaguing my mind was what show I should marathon while building in minecraft.

Speaking of games, I play a lot with my friend Sal. He’s like my best friend which is weird because he was my boss once on a minecraft server but now I can’t ever think of him that way? He’s more like an older brother now, even though he’s younger than me. We talk a lot and also enjoy a lot of silence, and introduce each other to different games and shows. But mostly games. We’re both obsessed with 7 Days To Die and I check constantly for news about the update (no set dates for Alpha 17 AHHHH). To fill that void we started playing Fortnite, which I know a lot of people make fun of but it’s actually fun. Here’s a fun fact about me: I can’t take serious games serious so if there’s no building element, or fun element, or explosives I can blow things up with, I won’t do it. I have 0 competitive bones in this body. I like to have fun. That’s why Fortnite is perfect because it is a competitive FPS type game but it’s also a parody of that genre and it’s so whimsical. Save The Day is a lot like 7 Days To Die so that’s been fun. Listen, when you play a game with someone and you beat it, especially a survival game, it’s such a relief and you learn so much and it’s like you went on a literal adventure with that person. Did Sal and I actually get stranded on an island full of mutants and cannibals? No but that’s what it actually felt like after finishing The Forest because it was that real for us. My love for Pocket Camp is fading because it’s the same stuff, new textures. I mean the prospect of having a cute camp is fun sometimes (fun enough for me to spend way too much money on it. HELP!) but now it’s like “oh they just stand there and I don’t really do anything”. ALTHOUGH they are saying that now they are adding a LOT more gameplay to the point that you need at least 1gb of space of the game so I’m excited. I’m still obsessed with minecraft so there’s nothing new there.

Here’s something weird. I spent much of my time, when I identified as gay, being annoyed at gay stereotypes and mostly twinks being like “if you don’t do x,y,z you might as well be straight”, so much so that now that I came out as queer those things still bother me and I have to be like “it’s okay that’s not you anymore you literally figured this out which is why you’re this person”. That’s how I should introduce myself tbh “Hi I’m the Q in LGBTQ”. I don’t care about fitting in but because of my lack of in person friends sometimes I worry that maybe I should care, just a little. I’m so tempted to try Tinder just for that but then I think of all the people who have Tinder that live in this building and I’m like God that is a huge mistake. I need a huge life change. I need someone to come in and shake up my life but no one has volunteered. I’m kind of regretting thinking of all those stupid romantic things like “Oh I want my future boyfriend to teach my how to ride a bike :)” “I want my future boyfriend to take me traveling” “I want my future boyfriend to serenade me”. I’ll just become a full on Capricorn and teach myself everything, travel the world alone, and serenade my goddamn self.

Speaking of which again, can my depression like.. not? I was so into learning and practicing chords daily and I just stopped? Like my motivation was like “It’s been a nice 1 week. back to not caring about anything again” I mean I started to try to learn Burn and Satisfied from Hamilton (well, “learn”) so I at least have interest and I still listen to classical music and jazz to light that fire under my ass but still. I’m just going to do what I always do and restart from lesson 1 and hope I make it to 3 although my extensive research of chords has already put me at an advantage for lesson 3, which is chords. Of course I would go and try to learn something in an unstructured manner because I have a problem with routine and authority even when that authority is me.

I should write me. Which reminds me I was going to write about this one dream I had on my regular blog. See ya!

[pupsandnubs]

I don’t know what havoc I caused in a past life for karma to bitch slap me around like this, but it’s like I can’t catch a break.

I just posted all of these cute, loving pictures from our weekend together- and I mean we did have the loveliest weekend. I really enjoyed myself, I enjoyed being with you, everything was light and airy and peaceful and so much fun. It was so nice just laying with you, or being in your arms and just enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest.

But it’s like for every good moment we have, I get slammed with a moment that makes me so mad my ears get hot, my chest hurts, and the blood drains from my hands leaving me cold and physically shaking. 

I don’t understand why this turned into an argument.

I understand why things got tense- I know talking about your family triggers you. But I am no longer needed to be in a position to coddle or dance around your triggers. Now I’m meant to initiate them, process them with you, and help you use the tools you have to work solutions out of them. 

HOW it ESCALATED into EVERYTHING ELSE I have no idea.

You dismissed me in the car, and like I am SO used to you doing it that it didn’t even bother me the first time. I legitimately just rolled my eyes and decided I didn't give enough of a fuck to further that conversation with you anymore. Once again, we would start and end and restart and resolve: on your terms.

You’d text me the following morning with a long processed paragraph and apologize for reacting the way you did, and in typical Cristi fashion I would shrug and be over it and forgive and move on. 

I don’t know what you want.

Hell, YOU don’t know what you want. 

And I’ve convinced myself this long that it’s okay and that it was just a necessary part of our journey- but I’m starting to think maybe it’s not supposed to be.

I deserve to be part of someone’s plan. And a definitive “want”. I deserve a certain level of certainty from a person, and to be someone’s “absolutely”.

I can’t figure out one day to the next wtf I am, or where I lie. One day it feels Absolute. For a few more days it feels Certain. Then there’s a wave of I Think So’s. And then some Maybe’s. Then only when something drastically wonderful happens to I feel that relieving Yes, For Sure. Then when something drastically goes wrong it suddenly becomes I Don’t Know.

I get that I’m not the most consistent person in many areas of my life. I get that I don’t always know what I want in some instances either.

I rarely know what I feel like eating. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what career is suited for myself. I don’t always go to the gym like I say I will. I didn’t quit Canvas according to my deadline. I didn’t give up on you and just date someone else according to my mental timeline either.

But I was always sure about my love for you. My want for you. My wants for a future with you. My want for being a part of your family. My want for you being a part of mine.

I know I want children. I want a dog. I want to get you your cat.

I know what I want with you. I know HOW I want to live my life, I know what I wish for my family and what I wish for yours. I know I want my friends to succeed and that if I can be a part of that, I’ll do my best.

I don’t fucking know what you want.

You love your family, you never want to be far from them, you want you and your brothers to have houses close to each other. You want to be closer to them. You want to repair your relationship with your father, you want to love your mother. 

Then you don’t give a fuck, fuck them, your family hasn’t done shit for you so why should you ever change for them- blah blah blah.

Let me tell you something. That is selfish. Feel valid in whatever pain and trauma and despair you want, it’s still selfish. And you are the source of your own ongoing pain. I learned this the hard way about myself.

Are you a perfect son

Are you a perfect brother

If you can’t answer yes, you have no right to expect only them to change and not put the effort in yourself to change. This isn’t a competition for “who should change first”. If you want to see a change, fucking be the change!

I am not a perfect sister. I am far from a perfect daughter. I was always self centered growing up and truly felt misunderstood and that no one bothered to try to get to know me. 

I’ve been thrown out. I’ve been hit across the face. I’ve been called a bitch by my dad, who was my hero. I have been TOLD I was DEAD to them. That they (my mom and dad) had no daughter. I was instructed to never show my face at their place again. My dad told me that if I ever tried to come back and “hurt my mother” again, he would deal with me himself. I have had my dad try to call the cops on me to make me leave his (my) house. My mom has called me a whore. My family in upstate uphold that rumor and add new ones constantly: I’m a whore, degenerate, drug addict, etc. I have been black listed from a whole fucking town in upstate NY. I was told I was never allowed to show my face or interact with my former students.

I was never a bad person. The “bad” things I did didn’t merit the half of that. I snuck out and lied about going to prom. I fell in love with my coworker. I got married. I wanted to be happy even if people thought I made a bad decision. 

But I was treated like I’d committed the worst offenses. And I held that hatred close to my heart for a long time. 

My mom tried to kill herself, and told the doctors that it was because of me.

I was only 19.

Do you remember being 19? The world felt so big, and the sky felt like it was crumbling at my feet. 

I woke myself up crying every night for almost 4 years. I didn’t speak to my mother for 2 of those years. 

My husband held me until I finished crying myself back to sleep.

I hated them. I hated them for abandoning me. Blood was supposed to be thicker than water. Family was over any and everyone. Why was I suddenly the exception? They didn’t even shun BOMI’S biological mom. How could my family abandon ME, but didn’t turn their back on a woman who just dumped her children off? I hated every single one of them. 

Until I didn’t. Until I got a call that my dad had suffered his first stroke. 

I showed up to the hospital and I saw my mom at the elevator. I froze. I expected her to snarl, or go in without me. I expected to feel the hatred and resentment and get a “what are YOU doing here, LEAVE”

But my mom looked small, her shoulders sagged, and the bags under her eyes looked heavier. She sighed and waited for me. In silence we got into the elevator together, and she looked at me. I hugged her and cried. We never spoke about why we hadn’t seen or talked to each other. She just patted my back and said “Ok, it’s done.”

She’d forgiven me. And I had forgiven her.

The trauma is still real. The hurt still happened. For all of us, not just me. But the hate isn’t worth it. My parents weren’t perfect. I was not either. I had to forgive myself. I had to forgive my parents. I had to forgive upstate NY. Not for anyone but myself.

Did they deserve it? It doesn’t matter. I had to give it in order to heal. In order to move on. I had to rewire my brain to better handle my family. And it’s BETTER but still not perfect. It’s not on our parents for our own self healing. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, our parents did their best by us. It wasn’t always right, and it wasn’t always fair. But take a moment to reflect inward.

In order for YOU to get what YOU want, YOU need to change. 

For me to be friends with you- I had to forgive you for hurting me. I had to become more patient. I had to soften my tone. I had to change my approach. I had to learn YOU first, and then CHANGE my patterns/behavior too.

For me to be best friends with you- I had to control my temper, my impulse. I had to forgive you for lying to me. Did you deserve that second chance? In that moment, no absolutely not. But I gave it to you anyway and I would watch to see if I’d regret it.

For me to be with you- I had to accept that I would have to relive and relearn a whole new type of patience. I had to accept that you wouldn’t know what you wanted or how you felt for awhile. I had to accept that it could backfire on me and I could lose everything. I had to trust the process.

I had to change. And I did. Otherwise none of this would be as it is. 

Your mother wants to be able to walk over to you and touch you, or have a conversation with you. Your dad wants to be able to see you laugh or smile instead of seeing the look of despair or anxiety clearly sunken into the lines in your face.

Your brother want to be able to hang out with you and laugh and joke and go out. They want you to stay home on a Saturday night and socialize with their friends that come over.

If YOU change, they will follow suit. If they see a difference in YOU, why wouldn’t they give US a bigger chance?

My mom allows you over as much as you are because I have changed. I don’t whine or bitch about walking the dogs when she asks. I complain less about washing them. I take it upon myself to do the dishes if the sink is full, or take out the garbage she leaves by the door. I bring home snacks for my dad, or a meal if I know its around that time. I buy household things when we’re low so she doesn’t have to so much.

Small stupid things, that she’ll never say thank you for out loud- but that’s why she doesn’t mind that my boyfriend and I lock ourselves in my room for hours on end. 

I don’t intend on interfering with your journey with your family anymore. It’s not my place past this ... post I guess. I don’t have it in me to want something more than my partner, FOR my partner. I sound like a broken record, my attempts and encouragement will eventually feel like nagging, and innocent and genuine advice will eventually turn into resentment. And that isn’t what I want.

You handle this however you see fit. They are your family, not mine and I accept that. If no one wants to speak up to you about it because of fear of retaliation from you, that is your guys’ problem and not mine.

This is my lesson in not meddling. I understand that although intentions were good, that I should not have said anything. 

I hear you loud and clear, karma.

[my-lazy-genius]

The World We Lost

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: APH Turkey (Sadik Adnan), APH Greece (Heracles Karpusi), APH Egypt (Gupta Muhammad Hassan), mentions of: APH Japan (Kiku Honda).

Summary: In which apologies are made and secrets finally come out into the open.

Author’s Note: The final part of The World We Lost. It’s only five parts, but it’s been a ride. Enjoy.

Greece is a man of secrets.

He is a mirror, glassy, reflecting back only what one desires to see. He is blank slate on which each person writes their desires on - never one who shows exactly what he thinks or says what he wants to say.

There are times, in private, where he lowers his reflective surface. He allows himself to be weak and tired and overwhelmed by the turmoil of emotions that bubbles constantly just beneath his skin. He doesn’t dare to let anybody see this most private part of him, but sometimes, he allows little glimpses to slip through. Moments when he can’t struggle with the weight on his shoulders, when he needs rest, he seeks it.

Sometimes, it’s Kiku. He can sit quietly with the serene man. Japan doesn’t question, he simply welcomes him in and makes tea, sits nearby and reads while Heracles rests. Sometimes Kiku is in a similar state, calm mask cracking, decaying at the edges, and they sit together in silence, mutual pillars of support - just two aching souls hurting together.

Sometimes, it’s Gupta. Egypt often appears at Heracles’ door at the right times, as though he’s sensed it. He wouldn’t put it past the African country; Egypt is perceptive and has strong intuition - he always follows his instincts, and it hasn’t ever seemed to lead him astray. So he visits, and sometimes Greece goes to him first. Gupta always plays music, lilting, light sounds with no words. Occasionally, he dances along, silent company and an active distraction. Occasionally, he merely perches nearby, hums to himself. Sometimes, he makes pottery, and the soft, steady hum eases Greece.

Lately, it’s Sadik. He’s still awkward and unsure when Heracles shows up at his door, shows himself in, and curls up in the corner of the couch or coils himself next to Sadik when he’s sitting in his bed. He reacts, all unsure hands and hesitant movements. Turkey acts as though he isn’t quite sure how to handle Greece anymore. Greece lets him figure things out, merely lingering around.

Sadik finds a rhythm sooner rather than later. He finds that Heracles likes it when he runs his fingers through the Grecian’s hair. He finds that sometimes it’s best to leave it be, to let Greece merely be there and exist only in that moment. Sometimes he makes tea. Sometimes he, in turn, curls around Heracles and they lay in silence, touching but not quite touching and always failing to voice what they are and want to be.

Turkey doesn’t dare to ask. Greece doesn’t dare to answer.

--

“Sometimes,” Heracles tells Sadik, turning his face up to the salty air, “I think about what it was like, before.”

They’re on one of Antalya’s beaches, tucked beneath a patch of shade. Sadik, it seems to Heracles, has taken a different approach today. He’s packed them up and headed to one of Heracles’ favorite places - the beach. His gaze has been tracing the scars on Sadik’s torso, faded from years, but still evident against tanned skin. As much as Greece hates to admit it, Turkey’s ploy works. He feels a weight leave his shoulders once he’s in the sand, drags his feet through the grains and lets out a slow, steady breath.

He feels calm.

Turkey is standing, hands on his hips, but he looks down when Greece speaks. “About what?”

“My mother, mostly,” Heracles murmurs, watching with a sick sort of pleasure as Sadik cringes, “but about us, as well, and the other Ottomans. But mostly about you and I.”

Turkey hesitates, and lowers himself to sit beside Heracles. The mediterranean country is watching the sea, though, as it laps at his feet. There’s always that part of him that begs it to take him back, but that part isn’t so loud, right now. He feels warm, almost content.

“What about us?” Turkey is asking, and Greece, in his half vulnerable state, really pauses to think about it.

But you know exactly what you want to say, a nagging little voice tells him.

He ignores it.

“We’ve changed.”

Sadik hesitates, like he wants to say more. Heracles watches him steadily, dares him to, almost hopes he does.

But he doesn’t.

--

“I’m sorry,” Turkey tells him, one day, when Heracles is tucked into the corner of the couch, half asleep.

“For what?” He asks, without opening his eyes.

Sadik sounds frustrated when he replies. “I don’t know. Nothing. Everything? I don’t…”

His words fade, and Heracles makes no effort to convince him to continue.

--

“You know,” says Gupta, legs folded over his thighs instead of tucked under, “secrets can be unhealthy to keep.”

Heracles pauses, halfway through his movies. He doesn’t turn to face Gupta, but he can feel the other’s gaze burning into his back and inwardly curses his perceptiveness. He should have known better than to invite Egypt over, especially when his thoughts keep straying back to Sadik like this.

Heracles isn’t oblivious. He knows, of course. He just doesn’t want to admit it. He can’t admit it. The moment he considers it, he feels his mother hanging over him, a soft reminder that her blood is on this man’s hands.

“Greece,” he tries again, but when the Grecian doesn’t turn, he pushes once more, harder, “Heracles.”

Finally, Greece tears his gaze from the cover of some romantic comedy and turns it to Egypt.

“I know, Gupta. God, I know. And it hurts me every second of every day; can’t you see that? But I- I can’t. My mother…”

“Our mothers do not dictate our choices, Heracles,” Gupta half snarls, usually soft voice sharp enough to make Heracles flinch - and then, just as suddenly, Egypt’s voice softens again as he continues, “Does being with him make you happy?”

Greece’s eyes are stinging, but tears do not come. They never come. Our mothers do not dictate our actions. He looks at Egypt, sitting straight and strong and independent - his own person. He thinks of himself, curling in on his own body and tossing and turning at night over nightmares of memories he still clings onto.

Greece turns away. “I stopped focusing on what made me happy a long time ago, Gupta. It makes life a lot easier.”

His friend unfolds his legs in one deft movement and slides off the couch, bare feet silent against the carpet as he crosses the space towards Heracles. Egypt crouches down and takes Heracles’ face into his hands, forcing the man to look back at him, and holds his gaze, golden eyes sharp and unwavering.

“Heracles Karpusi,” Egypt tells him, quiet and calm, “you deserve all the happiness this world can afford you. Don’t forget that.”

--

Somehow, Heracles realizes, it always circles back to this place.

Sadik’s study smells of pine and rain, a scent that makes Heracles want to sink down in a field of flowers and never leave. It’s a smell that makes him think of freedom, of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he runs away from everything - from his problems, from his feelings, from Sadik and Egypt and Japan and himself.

But for once he does not feel his mother’s fingers on his shoulders, on the collar of his shirt, dragging-

Now is not the time to run.

Sadik, sure enough, is expecting him. He isn’t wearing his mask - lately, Heracles realizes, Sadik doesn’t wear it around him. He knows how that mask works. It’s Sadik’s walls, similar to Heracles’ own, but in a physical form. When he takes it off, he’s letting his defenses down - something that he does with very few others. Turkey trusts him - it’s Greece’s turn to put some faith in Turkey, too.

“Greece,” he says, before Greece can get a single word out. “The other day. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the other day.”

It takes a moment for Heracles to realize what he’s referring to. I’m sorry, the words echo. Heracles had asked him, “For what?” and Sadik had never replied properly. Now, he looks almost as though it’s been eating him from within, expression twisted and shoulders hunched. He paces a moment, and Heracles doesn’t push him. He lets Sadik take his time figuring out his words, merely crossing the room and seating himself on the top of Turkey’s desk to watch and wait.

Finally, Sadik stops, right on the nick in the floor that Mount Athens left. He stares at it, just for a moment, and Heracles can see the memories and emotions race across his features. He can’t recall ever seeing Sadik so open. Turkey takes a slow, steadying breath, and seems to ground himself, green eyes lifting to pierce through Heracles.

“Greece,” he starts, and then, with a shake of his head, restarts, “Heracles. I know words can’t ever make up what I did to you and… your mother. You were right - we’ve changed. I’ve changed, but only because of you. I know words will never be enough, I know that, rationally. But they’re a start, and that’s where I want to be with you. The other day, I didn’t know what I was sorry for. I’ve done so much - I know you’ve suffered because of me.”

He takes a breath, more shaky. Greece’s eyes remain fixed on him, words lodged in his throat, back straight and breath hitched. This is Sadik, he realizes. This vulnerable, pained, stubbornly prideful man. This is who Sadik is. He doesn’t say anything; this isn’t the time. He holds his tongue and lets Turkey continue.

“So,” says Sadik, lifting his gaze and squaring his shoulders, “I apologize for everything I’ve done to make you suffer. I apologize for your mother’s death, and the janissaries, and every bad memory lurking behind these walls. God,” he says, and his voice cracks, shoulders dropping, “I’m so sorry, Heracles.”

Heracles waits, just for a moment. When he’s sure Sadik is finished, he reaches out a hand, and Sadik hesitates a moment, before moving forward to take it. Greece pulls him close, rests their foreheads together, and allows his fingers to linger over the back of Turkey’s neck.

“It’s a start,” he agrees, softly.

He doesn’t say what he came here to say, but this is a start.

--

Life goes on around him. Somehow, it’s easier now. Heracles feels like he can breathe a little better.

He’s stretched out across Sadik’s lap, watching the man’s expression change as he reads. He likes this, these quiet moments where he has no responsibilities, no expectations, and he can merely exist. It’s time, he knows. It’s time to speak up, but he wants just a moment longer like this.

“What?” Sadik looks amused; there’s something soft about his expression and a little chuckle to his voice. “You’re staring again.”

Greece sighs softly and drags himself up to sit. Now he’s eye level with Turkey, who tips his head curiously. Sadik’s little smile fades a fraction at the sight of Heracles’ serious frown.

“Can I tell you a secret, Sadik?” Heracles asks, reaching out to drag his fingers over the man’s jaw.

Sadik goes still and quiet, leaning just a fraction into the touch. He doesn’t respond, but his gaze is trained on Greece, waiting.

“I think,” Greece murmurs, and his hand stalls, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I’m in love with you.”

Sadik speaks, voice rough and quiet, eyes wide. “Stop that,” he rasps.

Heracles’ gaze searches him. There is no disgust there, no fear; only something hesitant and unsure.

He whispers, “Stop what?”

“That,” Sadik’s voice cracks in the middle of his half snarl, and he reaches out to drag his thumb over the skin beneath Heracles’ left eye, “saying thing that make me want to kiss you.”

Heracles swallows, gaze flickering to Sadik’s lips and then back to piercing green eyes. “Then kiss me,” he says.

“Problem is,” Turkey starts, holding Greece’s gaze, but slowly leaning forward, “if I kissed you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” Heracles breathes.

And he doesn’t.

[getoffthesoapbox]

[VKM Spec] Tackling VKM 9|10

I was encouraged enough by what I saw in VKM 10 to write down my thoughts on what I’m seeing for the story and for VKM 9 and 10 in particular. This post will be slightly different from my previous chapter reviews; I’ll be covering topics of interest in random orders rather than going through the chapters step by step (mostly to avoid revisiting VKM 9 as much as possible). 

For anyone who hasn’t seen the raws or translation (is this even possible at this point?) they can be found here courtesy of @alldempretties​.

I’m still displeased with the direction Yuuki’s character has taken, and I’m not comfortable with Zero and Yuuki’s relationship as it currently stands. However, I am encouraged by Zero’s response to the new status of their relationship, and I see some potential in the new twist on where Aidou’s research is taking him as well as in the broader themes of the timing of VKM 9 &10 in general and Yuuki’s interior monologues about Zero in particular. 

If you’d like to read more, and if you don’t mind a healthy dose of Yuuki criticism, please feel free to read below the cut. (Fair warning: I have no filter in this post. Tread with caution.)

On Zero

I won’t dwell too heavily on Zero from VKM 9. To summarize, I was appalled at how he was treated narratively in VKM 9. Here’s a list of my main points of contention:

Zero’s faith in his relationship with Yuuki was slowly and steadily worn down by Yuuki’s inability to communicate.

Zero had no choice but to accept he’d only have a place in Yuuki’s heart if he accepted the preposterous condition that Yuuki loved Kaname “too” and could do so even as she loved Zero. 

The ban on Zero expressing impatience or concern about their relationship was so high Zero could barely broach the subject without Yuuki clamming up.

Yuuki tells him she won’t let him go nor will she give him anything. This is just....more on that later. The fool accepts this.

Zero spends fifty years hoping that the fact that Yuuki held his hand once meant that someday he’d be able to have a relationship with her. This guy held onto this like a lifeline while nothing changed.

Zero lived alone in a dreary little apartment for 50 years that Yuuki never once visited.

On top of all of that, the way Hino handled VKM 9 is truly horrifying. Zero’s narration steadily becomes more and more depressed, to the point that even when Yuuki is confessing to him (in a moment which should arguably be the light of his life) his interior monologue is still depressed and Hino doesn’t even give him a proper reaction shot to show how happy he is that he’s finally moving forward with Yuuki. 

Hino made damn sure that nothing in that chapter was positive for Zero. It’s clear that even after Yuuki asks for the restart, he doesn’t believe anything will change. (Hence why his reaction to her announcement is to humor her rather than to lift her up and celebrate.)

VKM 10 fortunately steps in to mitigate a bit of the frustration I felt in VKM 9. It’s clear from VKM 10 that my interpretation of Zero’s reactions to Yuuki in VKM 9 were correct: he doesn’t buy this “restart” and he’s not okay with Yuuki not clarifying what she means. But Yuuki’s announcement had freed him from the oppressive silence he’d been suffering under during their “unofficial” years. This as far as I’m concerned is nothing but good.

It’s clear Hino’s promoting Zero as the “hero” and the character we’re supposed to root for. Yuuki has several interior monologues this chapter about Zero’s smile and how it would be nice if things didn’t get worse again for him. Hino’s also taking the time to remind us of Zero’s hidden good deeds, and to point out that he still has many secrets Yuuki knows nothing about because she hasn’t taken the time to support him or get to know him. I think it’s pretty clear now that VKM is Zero’s story at this point, far more so than Yuuki’s or Ai’s. Likely that means he’ll have to suffer more before things get better (more on that later).

On Yuuki

Honestly, I’m about as displeased with Yuuki as can be possible for any character other than Kaname. The only reason Yuuki’s not farther down in my good graces is that she hasn’t murdered anyone yet. Kaname still wins there. 

VKM 9 confirmed Yuuki is the worst of the Kuran traits at this point, with none of her original personality’s graces. She has put Zero in a hellish limbo on purpose. I know most people will forgive Yuuki anything because of what she went through, and I personally was willing to forgive her anything as well so long as she wasn’t being deliberately malicious. However, she is. I draw the line at open maliciousness.

She throws Kaname in Zero’s face constantly.

She won’t let her relationship with Zero move forward and won’t explain why she won’t.

She won’t clarify her feelings.

She allows him to make the most horrible assumptions about her feelings without seeming concerned about it at all.

I found her “confession” in VKM 9 to be a complete joke. She spends half the time talking about wanting to become one with Kaname and then says “Well, you can make me smile, Zero, so I guess we can go out for real now.” Like, wow. Talk about making it look like she’s settling for something she feels she “owes” Zero because he’s been “so good” to her. 

VKM 10 does very little to dispel this idea. In fact, it bolsters it. We get a scene of Yuuki talking about how Zero started smiling when Ai entered his life. Ai his enemy’s child. Ugh. (I love Zero and Ai, but Yuuki acting like it’s totally cool that Zero’s happy about this just drives me up the wall.) This girl has the nerve to wish for Zero’s smile, but at the same time drives him into a depression confirmed by the chapter before? What a load of crock. 

Then we get a random scene where she’s yet again thanking Zero for “putting up with her” and “supporting” her. Like I don’t know about you, but that’s not very romantic. That sounds like obligation and settling to me. Zero deserves better than that. 

This is all further reiterated in the final scene of the chapter, when Yuuki clearly has “no plan” for their dating. The obvious “next step” for them is to have a real romantic relationship, but she’s still unwilling to verbally say that to Zero. She’s also still unwilling to tell him she loves him. 

Until Yuuki can clarify her feeling and stop trying to have her cake and eat it too, I can’t support her. I can’t even root for her, no matter how many side couple parallels Hino does for her. Zero may have no standards, but that’s not the case for me. Which brings me to....

On Zero and Yuuki

As far as I’m concerned, VKM 10 confirmed to me that we are now paralleling Kaname and Yuuki’s relationship in a way I never wanted for Zero and Yuuki. VKM 10 is basically the equivalent of Night 49 from the original series, complete with an unsettling and disturbing bite at the end.

In my honest opinion, Yuuki seems to be trying to recreate her relationship with Kaname with Zero. Who knows why she’s doing this. But the way she acts as soon as they enter Zero’s apartment is eerily similar to how uncomfortable she acted around Kaname in the early Kuran Manor chapters. I don’t know if this is deliberate paralleling on Hino’s part or just a sign that Hino doesn’t know what a real relationship looks like, but after 50 years of being together there’s no reason for Yuuki to be acting like a 17 year old fool. She’s a 70+ year old woman at this point. Wanting an “innocent” relationship with a man she’s made wait for her for 50 years is insane. 

The double standards Yuuki has for Zero and Kaname get on my nerves. When she “made” Kaname wait 10 whole years in his enormously long lifespan, she felt so responsible that she sacrificed everything she herself wanted for the loser. Then she turns around and makes Zero wait 50 years with his finite lifespan and doesn’t show a hint of remorse or concern or even apology for what she’s put him through? And I know, detractors would say Zero could have left at any time, so yes, I agree, it’s Zero’s fault. But the Yuuki I liked from the first arc of the original series would never have treated Zero this way, and I resent it mightily. 

Yuuki refusing to clarify what “restart” actually means is highly reminiscent of her behavior with Kaname in Night 66. She wants to hold onto this man, and she knows that Zero, like Kaname, needs more than what she’s been giving him. Zero was just more patient than Kaname.

The one good thing about this “restart” is that Zero isn’t taking it at face value. He actually fishes for information this chapter, which is a good sign (and healthy). He’s trying to find out what she means, what the new parameters are, and where she wants to go. He gives her full control, but guides her away from her self-recriminating impulses. This is a good start, and is at least somewhat healthier than what Yuuki and Kaname did in Night 66 and Night 89. Zero’s at least trying to open some of the unspoken things between them, and move their relationship forward. 

Yuuki’s discussion about the bracelet is laughable. She wants Zero to smile peacefully while she’s one of the reasons he’s not. Unbelievable. The bracelet scene basically drove home to me that Yuuki feels responsible for Zero’s smile, and that she feels obligated to help him out with it. This isn’t something you do for someone you love. It’s something you do for someone you feel grateful toward and obligated toward. Basically, Yuuki’s now in the same position with Zero that she was in with Kaname and I do not approve. 

And worse, I’m deeply disturbed by the final scene in VKM 10. Hino used the screen tones from the Kaname/Yuuki scenes in Night 49 and 89, both of which had very bad outcomes. She’s also using the frustration screentones of Zero from back when he was pining for Yuuki at the very end of the bite scene. Yuuki still hasn’t told Zero she loves him, or that she wants a physical relationship with him now. Yuuki’s face at the end resembles the expressions she made in Night 49 and Night 61, when Kaname was pushing her to give him physical relief. She’s “giving in” to obligation here. She’s not expressing her pleasure, as she did in Night 87. 

Zero jumping her is concerning to me. I’m afraid that he’s hoping she’s ready to give him the love he’s been waiting for/craving, and is just going to get more of the same old same old. Honestly the fact that Hino used the pining screen tone at the end worries me more than anything. I suspect we’re going to find out Zero hasn’t been satisfied with Yuuki’s blood for a while. 

It’s all incredibly foreboding. For a happy Zeki coming together, I’d expect a lot of white screen tones and happy faces. I just find the whole scene too reminiscent of Kaname and Yuuki for comfort, and I expect this is going to blow up badly.

On the Side Couples

I just can’t be bothered. I don’t give two shits for the side couples. I do find it absolutely ridiculous that it takes Rima 50 years to get up the courage to be in ONE play. Like, lady, ever heard of plastic surgery? Or make up? Or wigs? *sigh* Whatever. These vampires are all stupid, end of story. 

Aidou and Yori are the worst couple in the series, and I’m relieved they’re over now. I don’t know why Hino was obsessing over them. Thank goodness Aidou can revert to his original sexuality now. 

On Ai

Ai’s whole storyline has been completely discarded for...what? Seriously, what is the point of bringing up this journey of discovery for her if she’s just going to get Night 86′d like Zero did? Honestly I’m so sick of Hino’s loose ends and her inability to tie up characters’ story arcs. We have no clue why Ai went to sleep, or if she struggled all that time with her love for Zero, or anything! We have not a single idea! She went from being a character to a plot device again! I just! Cannot! Even!

On Aidou’s Cure

This is the only item that made me come back to this story. I am thrilled at what we have going on here. Aidou has basically caught up to where Kaname was when he stopped his research, and he’s found what likely Kaname already found but never wrote down--there’s something “special” about cursed twins like Kaien.

I think Kaname was two steps ahead of Aidou even in this, so here’s what I think is going to happen:

Aidou is going to attempt Cure V1 using Kaien as the extra component. It will fail. 

Aidou is going to realize that Zero is a potential component for Cure V2. The cure will likely require Zero’s death because of how messed up his genetics are at this point. This will also fail because Yuuki will stop it. 

Aidou will be at a loss until Ren is born, and Ren will ultimately be the key to the cure (combination of Zero and Yuuki) without a sacrifice being necessary. 

This is obviously my theory about the Ren Cure that I mentioned in one of my earlier posts. The reason I think Kaien is a red herring is because: 

There’s an ominous dark cloud is over Aidou’s head when he makes his new research discovery at the start of his scene in VKM 10. Hino usually uses this screen tone when something ominous is going down. What Aidou has discovered is likely not initially good for our heroes (though ultimately it will be.)

Takuma specifically mentions wanting to resurrect Kaname, which means if the cure succeeded this early on he could have been resurrected.

We’re only 80 years into the 1000 year timeline.

Kaien’s not a main character and is actually a semi-villain. 

If Kaien is the cure, it makes Kaname’s sacrifice look really stupid because he could have just finished his damn research instead of making Yuuki miserable.

This story is Zero’s story (as we know from the original detested previews for VKM 1), and we have some huge loose ends to tie up about why Kaname was interested in the Kiryuu twins and why his plans “began” with them, according to Takuma. 

A huge amount of emphasis is placed this chapter on Zero’s smile “continuing into the future” and Yuuki wishing Zero could have peace. The fact that this is juxtaposed directly with the cure research says Zero’s suffering isn’t over yet. 

All in all, though, I win no matter how the cure comes about:

Win #1: If Kaien is the cure, then Kaname looks like an idiot and Yuuki chooses not to bring him back until Zero dies for reasons other than the cure. 

Win #2: If the Zero/Ren cure is true, all the damn loose ends from the original series will be tied up and Zero will regain his Vampire Knight title!

I will happily sacrifice a thousand Zeki Happily Ever Afters for the Ren Cure, Zero Light, and/or Kaname Scrooge theories (preferably all of them) to be true! =D

On Where We Go From Here

I do feel VKM 9 and 10 are linked back to back for a reason. Yuuki’s wishes for Zero’s smile ring hollow when placed beside the previous chapter, where we watch her drain the life out of him and him struggle to keep his head above water with false hope. I don’t think this is by accident, and I think careful readers will keep this rather dark trajectory in mind as we move forward. 

I see Zero and Yuuki going one of two ways at this point:

Yuuki loves both ending: Zero accepts whatever crumbs Yuuki throws at him. He accepts the status quo of not having a physical relationship with her for another 400 years. Eventually Yuuki feels bad that she’s not giving him sex, so they have a one night stand and she gets magically pregnant again with Ren. She never clarifies her feelings and we have both of them being lukewarm “happy” for the rest of their lives. (Bonus!: Kaname resurrects Yuuki in the future only for Yuuki to “realize” that she always loved Zero now that she can’t have him. Kaname accepts that Yuuki’s heart will be forever torn and they live out their 80 human years miserably ever after.)

Zero gets the fuck out ending: After realizing Yuuki’s “restart” means jack, Zero gets the fuck out. Yuuki either gets her shit together and clarifies her feelings or she gets Isaya to lobotomize Zero again so she can have her cake and eat it too. Alternatively (and better), Zero begins believing that Yuuki really does want Kaname more than him, and when Aidou offers him the opportunity to sacrifice himself to become the cure (which in turn will allow Kaname to be resurrected), Zero decides to take the plunge for what he thinks is in Yuuki’s best interest. This would require Yuuki to actually choose between the men and figure out what she wants finally. (This would be my preferred ending honestly.)

On Kaname’s Absence 

Before I close, I wanted to comment on Kaname and why I’m much more comfortable with his role in the story now.

I was initially concerned after VKM 7′s reveal of him wanting to resurrect Yuuki that Hino might be going that route. But we’ve now had three chapters with no return to Kaname, which means he’s not a main character--he’s just a character with loose ends to be tied up. Zero is our focal character, and the one we’re supposed to root for. His suffering is what’s being emphasized, not Kaname’s.

I suspect we’ll likely return to Kaname soon now that Zeki is together. Kaname digging into his past is necessary to coincide with the Yuuki reveals, after all.

In The End

If you made it this far, congrats. I salute you. You’re either thinking along the same lines as me or a glutton for punishment. Bless you either way!

P.S. - My askbox is open again. ;) Shhh, keep it on the D/L!

[mymisguidedfairytale]

[fanfiction] Hunter x Hunter - Motion in the Ocean

Title: Motion in the Ocean Word Count: 11,114 words Pairing: List x Elena, Dwun x Eeta Summary: After the events of Greed Island, List and Dwun take Elena and Eeta on the most epically disastrous double date in history. A/N: Written for the Hunter x Hunter Big Bang 2017 Challenge. Takes place immediately post-GI arc. Huge thanks to rouvere, gonprohunter, and amalaleteia who will be doing some lovely art for this story! I hope you enjoy! [FF.net] [Ao3]

He's not going to comment on how, no matter what, all Dwun seems to be able to talk about is Greed Island or its creator. List doesn't expect him to get over it—after all, they all have their own coping mechanisms. For the twins, it's a spur-of-the-moment road trip across the continent—for him, it's that ever-present emptiness and inescapable boredom—and for Dwun, it's an inability to let go, to place the blame on the one in the center and lash out at everyone around him. After living with friends for so long, living alone is a hard thing to adapt to.

Motion in the Ocean

After three days, he still hasn't gotten used to waking up in his old bed, facing a different window, in the apartment on the Ligorian coast he'd left behind when he'd agreed to join the team and live and work on Greed Island. It's like a jolt, unexpected and sudden, and then he spends the next few minutes staring out at the slice of blue water visible through the curtains of his bedroom window and making plans to purchase and install a set of blinds.

This he could get used to; he had a similar experience moving to the island, at first, and living in that expansive castle in Limeiro. No, what strikes him the strangest about the entire ordeal is that, after three days, he has yet to hear from any of the others. They departed, separately, through a set of cards remaining to them as Game Masters, and while Ging's silence is a matter of course, he expected to hear from one of the others. Dwun is even something of a neighbor to him—he lives an hour or so away, in a similar apartment complex that suits a Hunter like them—close to the airport, in a gated community, and private enough that one could leave without notice for days, months, or years at a time with no issue.

He buys the blinds and spends the afternoon installing them—the absolute mundane act of driving to the hardware store and standing in line with a box of blinds under one arm and a toolkit in the other is, to his utter disappointment, the most exciting thing he's experienced since his return. And he calls Dwun. He doesn't answer. List tries again, and once more it rings three times before going to Dwun's voicemail.

So, List hops in the car and decides to drive over. It's either that, or keep waiting for news of some kind, or go out to the Hunter Association seeking another job. The last two suggestions make him wrinkle his nose and turn the volume up on whatever pop-lite channel he'd set the radio to the last time he'd driven the vehicle. Years and years ago.

So, naturally, he gets lost. Twice. It's getting late into the afternoon, and by the time he finally gets to Dwun's doorstep he's ready for a drink and some peace. So, when he knocks, repeatedly, without answer, the scale of his ire starts to tip a little further south.

He tries the knob. It's locked, with some kind of rudimentary system—Dwun was constantly misplacing his keys, List remembers—and with a sigh, he starts to work on picking it with his tie clip. It's a skill Dwun himself taught him, so List figures his friend won't mind. Much.

A few minutes later, List closes and re-locks the door behind him. The lights are off, and a thick stack of mail on the inside of the doorway gives him pause, but what draws his attention immediately is the loud music coming from the descending staircase.

It's a strange, cinematic if clearly electronic soundtrack, punctuated by yelling and cheers. Coming downstairs, List sees Dwun, seated cross-legged on the dated blue carpeting, a game console in his hands and the gigantic television before him playing some kind of first-person shooter. His health's in the red, and surrounding Dwun rests a number of empty paper plates, soda cans, and flat cardboard boxes.

"Dwun!" List calls out, and a moment later Dwun pauses the game and glances over his shoulder.

"Oh! List!" His eyes are bloodshot, and on a second inspection List notices not one, but three different game cases open around the base of the television. "You're here early. Or is it late?"

He pauses. "You don't know?"

"It's definitely either one or the other." Dwun turns back to the game, clicks a button on his console, and it restarts in a flurry of chatter and ammunition.

List flicks open the lid of one of the boxes with his foot. Inside are the greasy crusts of a cold pizza. Slowly, he crosses the room, to the windows, covered in thick, blackout curtains—and what a much better idea those would have been—and rips them open.

Like any apartment on the Ligorian coast worth its salt, all windows face the ocean, and the now-brilliantly setting sun. Piercing orange light fills the room, and Dwun ducks to the side, throwing his arms over his eyes.

"List! How could you!" On the screen, Dwun's video game character dies, and Dwun howls again. "You were like a brother to me! How could you hurt me in this way?"

He rolls around on the floor, knocking over a soda can, and after a moment List puts him out of his misery and swings half of the curtains closed.

"Well, it's evening," he says. "As you can see. Have you really spent the last three days doing nothing but playing video games?"

"It's been years," Dwun gripes, sitting up and staring despondently at the television. "A lot of good games have come out since then! Surely you've got a backlog of new books you've been waiting to read?"

List shrugs. "No."

"I forget. You only like the classics." He reaches over, snags one of the pizza crusts, and pops it in his mouth. "And did you say three days?"

Now he wonders why he ever thought that something important or hazardous had been keeping Dwun—or any of the others—away. And although it's hard to imagine the twins playing a game like this, he's curious if the others are dealing with their newfound freedom like List with his ennui, or more like Dwun with his...puerility.

List pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales.

Without looking back, Dwun pats the empty space next to him. "There's a two-player mode," he offers.

Without saying a word, List drops down beside him and lets Dwun slap another console into his empty hands.

Two Days Later

They'd made it through Crash Lawson 5 and Zombie World Reckoning before List couldn't take any more. The plots were thin and the character development was nearly nonexistant! Who was developing these games? List had half a mind to write them a letter.

Dwun had been understanding—and caught him up to date on Crash Lawson one through four—and told him that, after Greed Island, it wasn't like any other game could really hope to compare, in the same ways.

At least he'd put his foot down at any kind of take-out. Limits were important.

List nurses a soda can on Dwun's couch while Dwun plays some sort of adventure game. He already wants another nap. "Your energy astounds me."

"It's a good game." He sounds defensive—this one, according to Dwun, is an indie, so the budget was thin and it shows in the graphics—and according to what he'd gleaned from the plot, the player character is taking a treasure map to a mystical temple high in the mountains to be decoded, and facing minor perils in the form of crevasses and jungle fauna and nearsighted enemies along the way.

"And besides, it's only the first act. Give it time," he continues.

List scratches at the stubble growing in under his chin. "We're Hunters. We could go out and experience this sort of thing for real, if we ever wanted to."

There's silence from Dwun, and for a moment something bubbles in List's stomach. "You don't...actually want to go out and experience something like this, do you?"

More silence, before he's jarred from his focus and the question seems to register in his mind.

"Nah. What I'm really itching for is the mundane."

"The mundane?" List echoes.

Dwun crosses his legs; his day-of-the-week socks read Friday. "Let's go do something completely normal. We'll invite Eeta and Elena, and go sightseeing...you know, as a celebration."

List isn't really following his leaps of logic; didn't they already celebrate on the island? And the concept of sightseeing, like a tourist, fills him with distaste.

"Where would we go? There's not much in the area to see."

"How about Wave City?" Dwun suggests.

List's nose wrinkles. "That tacky place?"

"And you've never been, so it's perfect. They've got good seafood, at least. And a boardwalk, and some nice arcades..."

List mulls the idea over while Dwun continues to extol the virtues of this generously-labeled seaside resort town. Something about Dwun's hopeful face gives him pause.

"Wait a minute...this has nothing to do with celebration. This is all about Eeta! What did she say to you?"

Dwun looks away, sheepish. "I...never actually told her."

"But you told me you were going to tell her about your feelings the night before the game ended! What did you do, you coward?" He gestures wildly with his soda can.

"I thought I would see her at the party. I told her I'd meet her...and then it never happened. I got so caught up in celebrating Gon's victory...I wonder how that all went?"

"Don't change the subject!" List shouts. Behind them, the dramatic music from the game's pause screen blares through Dwun's magnificent speaker system.

Dwun sighs, his shoulders slumped. "What else can I do?"

"Just call her. You know, like a normal person."

"You know she never goes anywhere without her sister. And if you're there, you can help psych me up. Give me advice."

"Advice? Don't ask me."

"Then who?" Dwun asks.

"You should ask Ging." It's worth it, to see the scandalized look on Dwun's face, and List does his best to control his laughter. "I'm sure he's got lots of stories. He can give you a little guidance."

"You're a horrible person."

By now, List is clutching his stomach with laughter. "You need all the help you can get!"

Dwun jabs a finger in his direction. "You're just trying to distract me from the issue at hand!"

In-between giggles, List nods sagely. "Like you're trying to distract yourself with these games?"

"You don't have to put it like that. These have been a very fun five days. Six? Six days?"

List, after a moment, realizes he can't remember either. "Definitely six."

They sit in silence for another few minutes—the game soundtrack continues to play the same, now inapropos, music in the background. List takes a sip of his grape soda.

"Hey. How about this. If you put everything together, I'll go out with you, Eeta, and Elena. It'll be fun."

"Fun," Dwun echoes, with all the joy of a funeral dirge.

"A nice, normal, mundane outing," List says. "That's just what you want. What could go wrong?"

Another scandalized gasp from Dwun. "Never ask that. And I thought you were the genre-savvy one?"

List keeps his voice carefully monotone. "Now it's going to rain."

One Week Later

They agree to meet at Wave City, an ocean resort town just up the coast. Its hallmark is a mile-long boardwalk along the water, populated by seafood shacks and shops selling beachwear and souvenirs. It's old and weathered and, considering the season, absolutely swarming with tourists and almost uncomfortably warm.

Of course, he is the first to arrive. The sky is bright and the sun is shining and List is convined his nose is going to be sunburned before the hour is up. And he's still wearing a dress shirt, tie, and long pants, looking entirely out of place amongst the rest in their coverups and flip-flops.

And then Dwun shows up, waving an arm, in cutoffs and a rust-orange sleeveless shirt. List waves back, only to hear laughter from behind him. He turns, and sees the twins walking up; Eeta has one arm up and is waving enthusiastically back. Suddenly sheepish, the redness on his face has nothing to do with the sun. He slings his arm behind his neck, pretending he meant to do that.

"Eeta! Good to see you!" He calls to the waving twin, wearing a bright combination of pink and mint-green ruffles on her shoulders and miniskirt.

"It's Elena," she says flatly back, pulling her sunglasses down her nose to stare at him over them. Beside her, her sister stifles a laugh and they exchange a look.

"So," Eeta says, glancing around, and for all the dilapidated whitewashed buildings and neon signs she seems impressed by it all. "What's the deal with this place?"

"It's old, like eighty years old." Dwun fills in the blanks as they walk, gesturing as they make their way down the boardwalk. "The fishing was really good back then. It's sort of died down now, though. The boats have to go out to sea now, but people used to fish all along the pier. Now it's just a good place to go and spend some time."

The boardwalk is broad, but it's still awkward for the four of them to walk in a line together, and after a few minutes List falls behind, to wait with Elena as she stops to take a picture of the pier.

"So, what have you and Eeta been up to since we left Greed Island?" he asks.

"Sleeping," she answers, again in that same flat inflection. "I have a lot to catch up on."

He winces; her job had been a lot more hands-on than his, and he's not sure what kind of answer he expected. "Surely you have plans?"

"Yeah. Rest and relaxation." They walk a few paces behind Dwun and Eeta. The latter is babbling about all the new cafes that had moved into their hometown since they've been gone, and Dwun is talking just as excitedly about the reputation of the crabcakes at the restaurant they're going to at the other end of the boardwalk.

"Spas and beaches," Elena continues. "We're gonna take a tour of the entire coast. It'll be so nice to have a beach with a current that won't kill you if you go out too far."

List winces again. The island had a manufactured hot spring, he remembers, and while the twins and Razor had been huge proponents of it, List had preferred the manufactured physical spaces—the cities, libraries, kitchens and restaurants.

"So what about you?"

"I put up blinds." List decides to just keep his face in that perpetual state of contortion. "And played video games with Dwun."

"Oh, which ones?" They spend a few minutes discussing the finer points of the Crash Lawson series—there aren't many, so it doesn't take all that long, and afterwards the smile starts to fade from Elena's face.

"Eeta doesn't really like games anymore," she says, softly. "After GI. She won't play with me. I can't even make games out of silly things. Any kind of competition, she won't participate."

"I get that." A group in rollerblades rush in front of them, laughing and bumping against the railing at their right. They look only a little younger than List. "How quickly the luster fades." He has nothing to complain about; the money was great, he got to work with friends, and the game had been the ultimate outlet for his creativity.

"I kind of resent him a little for it." Elena doesn't have to say a name. "But I don't want to resent Eeta for anything. I always knew it was going to be a little strange, adjusting. I keep dreaming I'm there."

List can't really remember most of his dreams, such as they are. He thinks they're probably simple and ordinary, full of mundane plots and characters, like the boardwalk around them. He's of the opinion that those with simple lives have extraordinary dreams, and his life, dull as it might be in recent example, has never been simple.

"Do you want to hear a story?" he asks. It's a game, one they used to play when all the founders were together, around a table littered with papers and beers with Nen crackling at their fingers.

"Sure," she says, falling into the routine.

"There was a man..." He casts his eyes around, alighting on the side of a building and its loudly-painted mural. "Who was green. Bright green."

Elena stifles a snort, but goes along with it, nodding. "This green man...did he come from space?"

"Yes. He was stuck. The spaceship crashed, and he needed a special component to repair it. Something that was unspeakably precious on his planet. It was a..."

He looks around again, spotting a woman with a huge, garish flower in her hair. "A geranium."

"A geranium?"

"They press the flowers, and make an oil from it that powers the spaceship. So he went out into the world, trying to find one. Unfortunately, the day he crashed..."

This time, they walk past a couple in an embrace, oblivious to all else around them. "It was a holiday. One celebrating love. People give flowers to those they care about, as gifts. The man couldn't find any flowers in the shops, not for any price. Not that he expected them to, after all, being so precious on his home planet. So he starts asking everyone he sees with flowers, if they will give them to him."

"And does this go well for him?"

"Well, that depends on your point of view," List says, his voice playful. "His unusual looks make him quite striking. The people he asks for flowers think he's really asking them for love—since it's a holiday, after all. So he gains a swarm of admirers—"

A group of joggers cut him them off, darting around the couple and running past Dwun and Eeta, still a few paces ahead. "And they run after him, with an armful of flowers. It's impossible not to notice."

Elena stops to lean against the railing, studying the beach below. "And how does the story end?"

He closes the game and stands beside her, draping his arms across the rough wood. "You tell me."

She takes a moment, tapping the side of her chin. "He makes it back, and repairs the ship. Unfortunately, unaware to him, there are a number of stowaways—those who thought he was seeking their love. With the added weight, the ship crashes again. The man tells them he cannot love them. And seeing one another, those spurned turn green with envy."

List claps his hands. "Bravo. If a little heavy-handed at the end."

Even through the praise, Elena pouts. "You didn't give me much to work with!"

He spreads his hands out, towards their surroundings. "I work with what I've got."

"Is that why so many of your old stories featured pandas? And strange machines, and red bell peppers."

"There was a perfectly normal amount of pandas."

"Keep up, you too!" Eeta shouts back. "We're almost there!"

"For what it's worth," Elena says as they keep walking, "I thought it was funny, what you did with Ai-Ai."

List's face turns immediately beet-red. "That wasn't me! I wrote everything else, but that was entirely Dwun and Ging. I was barely involved!"

"Mhmm. Sure." She agrees in impassive tones while List continues to splutter. "You're the worst liar."

"I swear, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Romance is a perfectly acceptable literary genre, List. For your first try, it wasn't bad. You could do a lot better in the future, though."

A beat. "I will hear your concerns and pass them along to the appropriate parties."

The restaurant Dwun leads them to is called Romeo at Dip and is perched right on the waterfront; the boardwalk curves in the opposite direction to accommodate it, and ends just a short ways up in a round pavilion lined with benches and posts dripping with lights. The front entry is covered with maritime signal flags, and there's already a thick crowd and a lot of noise coming from inside. Dwun takes the lead, stepping inside and up to the reception podium. He dangles his Hunter license over the top and smiles broadly at the receptionist.

"I have a reservation."

She glances at the license, smiles back, and begins typing into her computer. A moment later, her smile falters. "We don't have anyone in our system under this name. I'm sorry, sir."

Dwun pauses, then says through clenched teeth. "Try it under D-W-U-N."

More typing, and her face lights up. "Yes, here you are! Just one moment while we get your table ready."

Dwun steps back towards the others. "I'm going to murder Ging Freecs," he says cheerfully.

List makes some space for him in the crowded entryway. "You're not over it by now?"

"How awful for you, having other people get your name wrong all the time," one of the twins says, deadpan. "That must be so hard."

List ducks his head. "Sorry, Elena."

"It's Eeta," Dwun corrects, immediately.

"Sorry, Eeta." List looks between them again, once more cataloguing the differences. Eeta's wearing tiered ruffles on her skirt, and Elena's wearing ruffles on her sleeves; one has her hair in four buns, the other in two. Then he sighs and shakes his head—what a reduction of their characters. As a writer, he's almost ashamed. Elena is louder, but Eeta's sense of humor is more pointed. Eeta is much more disciplined, while Elena is a bit more laggard.

Their table ready, the group is led through the restaurant to a booth not by the window but close enough that they can see out to the water. List slides in first, taking a seat by the wall and handing off the awkwardness of deciding the rest of the seating arrangements to the others. Eeta slides in on the other side, opposite him, and a moment later Elena takes the seat beside her sister.

Looking minutely dejected, Dwun takes the last seat beside List, and they all spend a few minutes staring at their menus. List doesn't even like seafood, so his work is done after perusing the tiny section devoted to salads and chicken. He then takes to studying the restaurant itself—the walls are covered with fishing paraphernalia and old black-and-white photographs, and he has to crane his neck up to read the small print on one hanging above their table. In it, five men pose around the carcass of a gigantic lobster, with an older but still clearly recognizable Romeo at Dip in the background.

"What does it say?" Eeta asks, eyebrow arched, peeking at him over the top of her menu.

"A giant crustacean washed up on shore exactly fifty years ago," he paraphrases, his neck beginning to ache from the strain, "and began attacking the fishermen, but they managed to kill it. This picture was taken right before the, ah, potluck dinner."

"Yum," Elena murmurs, her eyes still focused on the menu. "That sounds delicious. Let's all get lobster."

"I didn't know they got to be that big," Eeta says. "But I suppose anything is possible. Morau and Gracchan see giant squids and stuff all the time, right? But they're Sea Hunters. What do I know?"

"Maybe the fishermen were Sea Hunters, too," Dwun jokes. "Maybe they got their stars for discovering and defeating a rare magical beast."

At this, Elena perks up. "Did you hear that we all might get stars for running that game? I heard Ickshonpay's putting it in his application. If his goes through, we'll all be eligible."

"He's already got one. So greedy." List tears his eyes away from the photograph with a frown. "Where did you hear that, anyway?"

"From Ging, the last time we spoke."

This, more than anything else, is the most shocking revelation to the rest of the group. Even Eeta looks surprised.

She jabs a finger towards her sister. "You talked to Ging? When?"

"After the game ended? He wanted to know how it went, and how things shook out with the cards. He told me to keep him updated, so I did. He was responsible for organizing Razor's parole, too, so he had that to deal with after GI ended."

List looks back between the slack-jawed stares of the others at the table to Elena, who instead wears an expression of supreme disinterest. He turns to Elena with awe and says, "The Ging whisperer."

She scowls, then says flippantly, "A thankless vocation."

They order drinks and some kind of lobster roll appetizer at Elena's request. It doesn't taste very good, but List doesn't give his opinion on it much merit.

"You said you wanted to travel up the coast," he says, to both the twins. "Where were you thinking of going?"

Elena, who has part of a lobster roll in her mouth, tries to elbow her sister to answer in her stead. Eeta ducks the jab and scowls at Elena.

"We're heading south. There's a few other beach towns—Cape Vert is on our list, and there's some cool bridges to see near that area. We're going to end the trip in Karta—"

Dwun's face immediately twists in a grimace.

"You've been?" It's Elena, chewing on her lobster roll.

"Oh yeah, for business. They have some of the best tech suppliers on the continent. It's where I oversaw the production of the game cartridges, all those years ago. What Ging wants, Ging gets, right? And the requests never end. He once asked me to make him a Nen-infused cassette tape player! Who even uses cassettes anymore?"

Elena raises an eyebrow, and List pretends to be incredibly distracted by the gigantic resin marlin hanging from the ceiling above the stretch of tables by the wall.

"It's just, not a place I'd go on vacation," he finishes with a shrug.

"Well, we're not you," Elena says. "Maybe we love neoteric tech and humid weather."

They each independently pick up their drinks and take a sip; List tries not to be the first to set his glass down, but after a moment it's clear they're all trying to out-wait the others and his drink is almost empty. He sets it back down with an over-exaggerated sigh, and once more the awkwardness returns as the conversation stalls.

"It's a shame that since we had to work on the island, we could never participate as examiners in the Hunter's Exam," Dwun says. "The last one just ended, didn't it? Is that something you'd be interested in doing, in the future?"

List would've put his head in his hands if he wasn't still so focused on that plastic marlin. Eeta slides out of the booth, waving a hand and calling out, "I'm going to go powder my nose."

"I'll come too." Elena follows a moment later, and List cranes his neck around to watch them disappear around the side of the corridor just past their booth.

A pause, while List finishes his drink. "Do you think they're going to leave?" Dwun asks, his face falling. "I'd probably leave."

He's not going to comment on how, no matter what, all Dwun seems to be able to talk about is Greed Island or its creator. List doesn't expect him to get over it—after all, they all have their own coping mechanisms. For the twins, it's a spur-of-the-moment road trip across the continent—for him, it's that ever-present emptiness and inescapable boredom—and for Dwun, it's an inability to let go, to place the blame on the one in the center and lash out at everyone around him. After living with friends for so long, living alone is a hard thing to adapt to.

So instead, he says, "You couldn't have known, but the Hunter Exam is a bit of a sore spot for them."

Dwun grabs one of the last lobster rolls and gestures with it. "Then how do you know?"

"You know how you and I met because of this team? Well, I knew Elena and Eeta before Greed Island. We met during the Hunter Exam. It was my second time taking the Exam and their first. I passed that year, they didn't." He swirls the ice cubes around in his empty glass and watches them clink together. "It went really badly."

"I can't imagine. They're both so good with Nen. What could have happened?"

"Well, you see, it was a dark and stormy night..."

Dwun throws up his hands, shaking them back and forth. "No, no, no, don't use that ability on me—"

"...And the fifth stage of the 273rd Hunter Exam was just announced..."

And Dwun's vision goes dark, replaced a moment later by the landscape of the rolling hills of the Karpatian mountains, made dark by the hour and filled with dozens of bodies climbing out of open-air vehicles and running off into the night...

They had been placed into teams by Netero, and left to their own devices to plan their strategy on the long drive to the Karpatian mountains. Each team was given a bright yellow flag, that they had to hide somewhere and protect for the entirety of the challenge. Their second task was to find the location of the opposite team's flag and steal it before the time was up. They would have roughly twelve hours—from sundown to sunset. If the sun hit their encampment before either team had stolen the other's flag, both teams would be disqualified, and none of them would become Hunters. The winners, according to Netero, would become Hunters themselves.

"Oh. One more thing," Netero says, balancing on one foot. "You cannot destroy or otherwise alter your flag."

One of the other members of List's team, a tall, muscled woman named Marta, speaks up. "What about injuring the other team? Is anything fair game?"

This seems to amuse the old man, and he laughs, rolling back and forth on his one balanced foot. "Anything else is fair game! You can consider your flag more valuable than your own lives at this point. We will be monitoring you, still, but all your actions will be your own choices. We will not even give you the time. You must budget time for yourselves, and decide which is more important—protecting your own flag, or going after your opponent's?"

As they drive, four to a vehicle, List's filled with others whose names he doesn't know and who have much lower numbers on their badges than him, driven by an Exam aide who is unhelpful to the point of admiration. He dodges every one of List's questions about this stage of the Exam and resists his every attempt to remove pieces of the vehicle to take with them as weapons—like the seatbelts, or the spare tank of gasoline, or the mirrors. List himself has very little on him that could be helpful, and this more than anything is what gives him pause as he and the others in their vehicle talk strategy. They, more than him, have made an effort to identify and catalogue the others on the opposing team.

And the more they talk about the fifteen-or-so men and women waiting to burgle them when they reach the mountains, the more List begins to feel that the teams are decidedly unbalanced.

There's a few who deal with chemical reagents and poisons, and several trackers and soldiers who would certainly be advantaged on a terrain like this. Marta, he knows, is a soldier, and even over the roar of the engines he can hear chatter from the vehicle beside theirs, housing her and a few others, one holding the bright yellow square of coated canvas in tightly clenched fists. They will be the leaders, List thinks, and while his brain is uniquely suited to parsing information and predicting outcomes from compiled data, he has quite a few ideas of his own on how they should proceed.

Which is likely part of the challenge. They have to not only work to complete their objectives, but maintain unity within their own groups. Any split in their harmony could be exploited by their opposition, and the blame at any missteps would undermine any attempt at leadership.

The wildcards, according to the one seated beside him, were the twins.

Two girls, their first time taking the Exam, placed auspiciously on the same team for this final challenge. And it was clear from the very stage that there was something very wrong with them.

They were always in one another's company, but they kept one another at a distance. Any time they got within an arm's reach of the other, something strange would happen. The air would vibrate, or the ground would shake, and once their arms touched and everyone in twenty feet was knocked to the floor by some kind of energy blast, the examiners included. That kind of power was something List had never seen before, and he had no idea what to do about it. They seemed just as fearful of their strange powers as the others were of them. List doesn't know if it can be harnessed by them, or if they tried, what would happen—to them, or to anyone unsuspecting enough to be caught in the effect.

At the mountains, the sun finally drops below the horizon and they climb out of their vehicles. Their group forms an odd semi-circle, and List takes another moment to stare at the two teams. He isn't a betting man, but at the moment he thinks his odds are abundantly low. Then, looking at the way the other group is considering them—and the wide berth they are giving to the twins—he has to wonder if they were just as intimidated as he was.

The vehicles pull away, leaving a sizeable gap between Netero chuckles and shouts, "May the best group win!"

Instantly, Marta and two of the others—badge numbers 101 and 77—form a barrier around one of the others, and they begin backing towards the cover of the mountains. Several of the others on the opposing team pull out weapons—mostly knives, but one has a concealed pistol, good Lord, and they begin to edge closer as the man Marta is protecting turns and starts to run.

"Come on!" she yells. "After him! Let's go!"

"Wait," one of the twins says, so suddenly that it takes List a moment to register. "Did we ever see that he had the flag? I don't think Marta would have let it out of her possession. I think it's a ruse."

The entire group freezes, and then Marta turns and sprints towards the others, already fleeing.

"We'll cover your escape!" someone shouts, and one of the others in List's car grabs his arm and starts to drag him after Marta.

"—Let me try to get a shot—"

"No!" It's the other twin, throwing out an arm. "We shouldn't have to resort to violence! If we win that way it won't matter!"

The group begins to squabble, each taking sides on whether or not the one with the pistol should be able to try and take them out. In the meantime, List turns and runs as fast as his legs can carry him. The mountains stretch before them, the incline of the ground growing steadily more severe, and they have to jump and swerve to avoid the many boulders blocking their path upwards.

"We'll take the high ground!" One of the others—badge 101—says. "It's all part of our plan! We'll be able to see anyone else coming!"

List's calves are starting to burn. He's not really cut out for the physical aspects of being a Hunter, not yet, and he suggests they pause for a moment to be sure they aren't being followed before they reach their destination.

"It won't do any good if they follow us right up. I'd rather not lead them right up to the best spot, if there is one," he says.

"Samuel is from this country," badge 101 says, pointing to the other, number 77. "This place is something of a national landmark, apparently. The west side of the mountain flattens out. Should be easily defendable. We can come up with a strategy to get their flag once we're settled."

The mountain on one side does indeed flatten towards the top—the peak stretches above on their left, which will block their view of the sun, but the cliff face is sheer, and he doesn't think anyone on the other team would be able to scale it to reach them, even if they had the equipment.

They take an inventory of their resources—someone has a lighter, and cigarettes, which they pass around, and between the fifteen of them they have six knives and one sandwich, which its owner promptly eats. They have three watches between them, one on List's wrist, and he considers himself lucky that he has a jacket—many of them aren't equipped for the weather or the elevation, and the temperature will only get colder throughout the night.

Marta indeed has the flag, which she pulls out from inside one boot.

"I think we should bury it." It's someone List has barely interacted with, a girl with mousy brown hair and a wide, square hat. "They can't find it if we're not even holding it."

"Does that qualify as damaging it? If we put it below one of these rocks, it would be safe, but we could risk disqualifying ourselves."

"If we split the team too thin, there won't be as many to guard the flag. Perhaps we bring it with us and we all go to try and claim the other one?"

"..."

"I know a guy who's a Hunter. He would totally try to wait out the others, and when they attack, we take them out. Threaten the other team—we'll kill them if they don't give up their flag!"

"Sure you know a Hunter. I'm surprised you don't know twenty."

"Hey! What are you saying about me?"

"I'm saying you know a liar."

"Like anyone's gonna sacrifice themselves to try and get that flag. Did you see that other group?"

For the first time, List speaks up."If we all become Hunters by clearing this stage, then we should aim for all of us to make it through."

"I don't think we should let it out of our sight," Marta says, with the air of one declaring finality. "I would like to stay with it, and protect it."

No one wants to argue with that, especially after they'd all seen the way she handled the previous Exam stages with a sense of order and calm that brought her instant respect.

"I think we should form a team to gather information about the opposing team. To report back, or strike if they see an opening. It's dangerous, so I won't force anyone to go."

There's a moment of silence, and then List raises a hand. "I'll volunteer for that."

Four of the others volunteer too, and the group of five departs a few minutes later. While they're gone, Marta, Samuel, and the others will solidify their position on the mountain and come up with both a strategy for combating any attack and a plan for what to do if the night passes and there's no movement from the other group. On Marta's order, they're not to stay any longer than two hours without reporting back.

List and the others—101 among them, who he can at least trust to have some measure of competence about this—pick their way across the ground. List pulls his dark jacket tight across his body to try and blend in to the surrounding rock better, and one of the others takes a moment to re-tie their running shoes. They make such an odd, mis-matched group, and they proceed in silence—what would they even talk about? The Exam? What they would do once they became Hunters?

List himself remembers last year's Exam with shame. He'd been eliminated during the second round, and had barely gotten a glimpse behind the curtain of what the world of a Hunter was like before it was gone from him. He barely paid attention to the faces around him then, and even now he doesn't know who in their group has the most experience or the most strength. To him, more than both of those, the worth of a Hunter is determined by their adaptability.

List isn't feeling very adaptable right now, with the wind in his hair and his breath cold on his face.

"Stop," Running Shoes says, and List crouches down to see over the edge of a boulder to a furrow in the ground a couple hundred yards away, where a few other applicants sit around a fire.

"A trap?" List asks.

"Yeah. Let's wait and see if anyone else shows up." 101 takes a place on List's other side, and after a few minutes of watching he points out the places in the rocks above where a few others wait, concealed. The place they've chosen to make camp seems a little precarious, the rocks stacked in such a precarious way that List thinks it's likely the result of a past rockslide.

"Do you see the flag?" one of the others asks.

"If only we had binoculars! Or been able to plan at all!" 101 grouses. List can relate. He's thinking about how useful a few of those car mirrors would've been, for signaling the others across a large distance or attempting to blind someone of the opposing group. He can't see any flash of the yellow flag, and the longer they wait the more List thinks they're missing something. He can't see the twins, or the one with the pistol—and he's irritated that he hasn't paid enough attention to his fellow applicants to be able to identify them beyond the most shallow descriptors.

An hour passes, then another. 101 turns to Running Shoes. "You should head back. Report what we've seen—help Samuel create some kind of map of this place. We'll keep watch. Make sure you aren't followed."

He nods, and departs. List keeps a sharp eye on the ground around them, and when he sees a flash of movement from the rocks above, he points it out to 101. "I think it's pretty obvious this is a decoy group. The fire and all."

"I agree," he says.

"What would you do, if you were them? Where would you keep the flag?"

"With one of the twins," 101 answers immediately. "In the dark, it'd be especially easy to do a fake-out. Give the flag to one, then switch her out with the other if we all give chase."

"But they don't trust the twins. They're volatile."

"The man with the pistol. There are a few other Exam veterans on their team. I've noticed that's how they've balanced the teams. There's about an equal amount of vets versus rookies."

That's good to know, List thinks.

"It's the rest of their rookies below. Those four haven't done much, yet. Just squeaked by the last phase. I bet the team is thinking they're a necessary sacrifice. It's pretty mercenary thinking."

"Should we move? I want to see from above, if we can. I think that's where the others are. It's really the only place with a good vantage point of the whole valley, except this rock." He pauses. "Do you think they can see us from up there?"

"If we can't see them, they can't see us. The angle's too sharp. They've probably blocked off any entrances or exits to that burrow up there. It won't matter if we see one another if we can't get through, or if only one of us can get through at a time. Then the one with the pistol can pick us off."

He shrugs, and moves to make himself a little more comfortable. "I think this phase is really designed for none of us to pass. It'll be an anti-climactic end. Sun will come up and it'll still be a standstill. No one's ready to make a move."

One of the others, badge number 25, taps 101 on the shoulder and points up to the cliff. Now that List thinks about it, he can't remember 25 ever talking at all.

"Yeah, he doesn't talk," 101 says at List's questioning glance. "He was my roommate, earlier. Considering how much some of the others talk, it's a blessing."

List raises an eyebrow at 101. "Some of the others, yeah."

With the time, the shifting moonlight now illuminates the whole cliff face. There's a glint, caught in the moonlight and amplified to their eyes below. It moves, occasionally, and after a few minutes of study List finally realizes that it's the metal hair ornaments the twins wear. The moonlight reveals more movement—at least three additional distinct shapes.

"They climbed the boulders," List says. "At least one of the twins. Probably a bunch of the others are up there, too. It's smart. Secure. How are we to get up there?"

"We get them down." It's 101, who cracks his knuckles and motions towards their fourth companion, a taciturn older man who'd been equally silent. "Tell the others that we've got eyes on almost their entire group. Have the others come up with some kind of projectile, with any twigs or kindling they can find. Samuel can use his lighter to set it on fire once we're assembled, and we can throw them into the clearing and above the boulders. I know he's got a flask on him he's hiding, that should help."

List hides his smile, and the three of them continue to wait while the fourth man—List didn't catch his number, but he's pretty sure it's higher than his own, which makes him feel just a little better—races back to the rest of the group.

"We'll wait as long as it takes," 101 says to 25. "We can't risk their position changing without our knowledge."

List checks his watch; it's been close to five hours since the phase officially started, and he's beginning to feel the first stages of exhaustion set in.

"It's better this way," 101 says; he's been mumbling to the others almost the entire time, his focus admirable if his habits a little excessive, "if we don't know where the flag is. If I was Marta, I'd make some kind of identical container for everyone, so no one knows who really has it, but everyone thinks it's them. That is, if we had supplies of any kind."

It's a bit of a sore spot for him, List can tell. The moonlight continues to shift, above, and while it illuminates their movement more than he's sure they would like, he knows there's only a matter of time until it shifts enough that it exposes their position—or makes it impossible for them to move without being seen. He doesn't know which would be worse.

It's another hour before anyone else shows up. Running Shoes is leading the group—and List is surprised to see that it's just about everyone, all carrying bundles of sticks tied with string. Marta is following close behind, and they gather behind the large boulder to plot their next move.

"They're up there," 101 says, while 25 points out the spots where they've seen movement, both in the valley and above on the boulders.

"They've got a fire," Marta says. "Nice. I'll aim for that, try and cause as much distraction as I can."

"You won't take the lead?" List asks with surprise.

"No. Cy was a minor league pitcher. He'll take that."

List looks back to the group, where Running Shoes is rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Once more, List is amazed at both the sheer breadth of the talents among the Exam applicants and just how little he knows about them at all.

"This is probably the only chance we're going to get, so give it your all. If we get separated, stay away from the camp. We don't want anyone leading them back to it. Go to the other side of the mountain and try to hide. All we have to do is get a hold of that flag—we don't have to hold it until dawn. Just one slip is all we need."

"What's the time?" Cy asks.

List gives it. "Two-thirty. Three and a half hours left, roughly. I'm not sure when exactly sunrise will hit."

They prepare the projectiles—Marta does indeed have a flask, possibly taken from the conspicuously absent Samuel—and they use a single stick to light the now-damp bundles. The moment the kindling catches, Marta rears back and throws it with pinpoint accuracy directly into the fire pit below.

It crashes and explodes, billowing out the flames and causing the half-dozen people around to shout and leap aside for cover. The next shot by Cy hits the top of the boulder, where the movement is thickest, and they hear a scream. Someone falls from the top of the boulder, their shoulder singed, and the next projectile finds another mark.

More movement, as someone leaps from the top of the boulder. It's the man with the pistol, who points it with a shaking, bloodied arm as Marta, Cy, List, and 101 pour into the clearing. She rushes the few who've staggered to their feet in the wake of the flames, pushing one over and starting to search them.

A shot rings out against the rock, missing Cy by what might as well be a mile as he lobs their last projectile up at the visible faces at the top of the boulder. The pistol swings around again; Cy ducks behind Marta, who takes the shots to the abdomen without flinching, her clothing armored.

101 rushes him and attempts to knock the pistol from his hand. Suddenly, there's more movement as one of the twins slides down the side of the massive boulder. Did she jump? Was she knocked down by the last blast?

25 is busy searching the others by the fire, and while List advances towards 101 to offer whatever help he can, the twin pulls open the jacket at her neck. There's a flash of bright yellow fabric.

"She's got it!" It's Marta, who shoves the man she's searching out of the way. Then, the twin turns on her heel and runs, past the clearing and disappearing around the side of the giant boulder.

List follows, stunned as he is, and there's more movement as two more slide down the boulder from above. There's the slightest disruption of pebbles against the ground, and he barely registers the man with the pistol shoving 101 to the ground. He turns, attempting to fire at List, and hits the edge of the rock instead.

Suddenly, the flow of pebbles and sand increases rapidly. "It's coming down!" Someone shouts, fleeing their precarious perch on the boulder, and in that same moment List remembers what he's seen of the twins before. One of them was wearing a shirt in that same bright yellow color during a prior stage of the Exam, and his heart sinks.

"It's not her!" he shouts back, but there's no time. Not as larger rocks start to fall from the cliff above, right in the path of the one twin.

"Elena!" Someone shouts, and he can just barely make out the horrified face of the twin in the distance—not at the rocks hurtling towards her head, but at her sister, diving to push her out of the way.

Their fingers connect, and there's an explosion of pressure and energy that knocks them all off their feet. List is blown backwards, nearly all the way across the clearing, and he watches limply as the boulders rain down to bury half the members of the opposing team under the rubble.

Marta is able to wrench the flag from where the pistol man had tied it around his upper arm. Samuel, having scaled the cliff at the mountain's peak as high as he could go, had their own flag safely preserved. List has a concussion and can barely make out 101's words as he repeats to himself with slow and stilted words. "We're Hunters. We're Hunters!"

The sun comes up.

Dwun coughs and sags, his eyes clenched tightly shut and his fingers shaking. "Ugh, you know I hate that ability of yours! Your Montage is the worst! Especially the longer memories. I get so nauseous!"

"Sorry." He gives the apology the barest of weight; to him, it's only been a handful of seconds, but the memory he gave Dwun to see lasted hours—the effects were more severe the longer the memory, but he felt it was important for Dwun to understand just where this all started and how much Elena and Eeta have had to overcome.

"But they were okay, right?" Dwun continues. "Well, obviously. But what happened next?"

"We became Hunters." He shrugs. "The Association had to dig them out of the rubble. I didn't know what it was at the time, but they were something of a genius with Nen. They just lacked the control—any control, really. Their powers get more intense the closer they are to one another, physically. It's why they're able to do what they do with Greed Island. They manipulate systems—manipulate energy."

They continue to wait for the twins. A minute passes, then five. Dwun cranes his neck to look back at where they disappeared. "Do you suppose we should...?"

There's a slight vibration, all through the restaurant. Then another. The salt shaker on their table tips over, and Dwun glances over at List. "Do you suppose that was...?"

List makes a face at him. "That wasn't the twins. I've felt the difference."

The rattling gets stronger, and a few people in the restaurant move closer to the windows and railings to look over into the water.

"It appears it's coming from the ocean?" Dwun's glass is still mostly full, and he studies it, watching the way the vibrations cause ripples in the surface. It's rhythmic. Kinda like footprints.

A moment later, there's a loud roar and the rush of a huge displacement of water. The windows shatter, and the few people who are closest to the blast shriek and fall back as the water sweeps inside the restaurant, over broken wood and toppled chairs. The wave makes it far enough in to coat the tops of the tables, including theirs.

"My lobster roll!"

List glances over to where the twins have rushed over; instead of the wreckage or the potentially injured and rapidly fleeing civilians, Elena's attention is focused solely on their sodden tabletop.

Eeta pulls her away. "Come on, let's see what's happened."

The group makes their way to the outside deck—or what remains of it—and surveys the damage. Loose floorboards jut out at odd angles, and the rough, swirling spray is mixed with broken china and pieces of maritime memorabilia that were swept off the walls and ceiling in the tumult. The current draws back, and with it goes an old buoy and a large fabric tabletop umbrella.

"Guys," Dwun says, pointing down the shore. "Look over there."

The restaurant sits on the very edge of the boardwalk, with only a small curve of sand lying beyond between the land and the water. And rising out of the water is a gigantic red lobster, one claw curled over the edge of a battered wooden sign proclaiming Wave City, est—

The claw slices through the sign, cutting the rest off. It falls into the surf below, agitated further as the creature crawls across the sand, legs twitching and stabbing into the wet sand.

"You guys are seeing this, right?" Dwun asks.

"Yeah." List stares up at the lobster as it continues to stab at the sign with his claw. He reaches up to loosen the knotted tie at his neck and begins rolling up his sleeves. His shirt is wet, and he scowls at the offending fabric.

Even in the limited stable space, the twins still keep a wide berth of one another. "Do we...do we leave it? Is this a job for the beach patrol? Do we help them?"

"I don't think there are any lifeguards who can handle this..." List pauses. "Elena."

She looks back at him with a smile. "Good job! There's hope for you yet!"

The creature seems to swipe out with a giant, sharpened claw at any movement on the beach. There are more screams, and Dwun begins to climb over the disjointed railing.

"Come on! We're Hunters, aren't we? Let's deal with this the only way we know how." He promptly gets the hem of his pants stuck along the splintered wood and has to yank them free.

Elena continues to watch the lobster. "Well, we're here. We might as well see this through to the end."

"Do we have a plan? Try and drive it back into the ocean?" List asks.

"Yeah. That sounds good." Dwun hops down into the water, and his ankles are immediately swallowed by rolling surf. Eeta and Elena follow, and after a moment List swings himself over the railing and joins them. A wave of salty ocean water slaps his legs, and as they creep closer to the lobster it swings around to stare at them, beady eyes twitching.

Dwun takes a tiny step back. "You know, it's a lot bigger from up close."

"We could just leave," Eeta says. "No one would know."

Suddenly, the claw comes down between them; List and Eeta jump to one side to avoid it and Dwun and Elena are pushed higher up the beach. The claw rakes across the sand again, and the lobster makes this strange screeching noise as it charges towards them.

"I've got this!" List jumps towards the creature's side, kicking out with one wingtip shoe. He strikes the side of the shiny shell and glances off, landing on the wet sand and staring down the creature's stampeding legs. "I've still got this!"

Elena attacks the creature from the other side. "You know, you're still the worst liar."

The carapace is too thick for any of their physical attacks to work; even when they cloak their fists or legs in Nen it still barely makes an impact on the tough shells, and seems to make the creature angrier over any other result. At least the beach is mostly otherwise empty—a few fishermen have gathered to watch, and there's a couple uniformed security officers ushering people away. They haven't had much luck harming the creature, and any attempts to drive it closer to the water merely cause it to lash out at whoever gets closer.

Eeta turns to Dwun with a grin. "What would Ging do?"

He shrugs and dodges another sweep of the claws. "Probably try and talk to it, I dunno. I bet he already knows a bunch of creatures like this. They take fishing trips together every year."

She frowns. "Lobsters eat fish?"

"Lobsters are omnivores," List says. "So, yes. Among other things."

The next swipe catches List in the side and sends him sprawling into the surf. Dwun helps him to his feet and he staggers as another wave washes over them.

He glares at the sand and brushes his wet hair out of his face. "Am I the only one who didn't dress for this?"

Suddenly, the creature makes another screeching noise and starts to scrabble up the sand, towards the encampment of the boardwalk. Eeta and Elena glance at one another as they stand in its way.

"I think I've had about enough of this," Elena says, stretching out one hand towards her sister.

"I agree," Eeta says. "Shall we?" The lobster bares down upon them, and as their hands touch there is a loud bang and a bright flash of light. The ground shakes, even stronger than before, when the creature had first climbed out of the water, and in the wake the creature is thrown onto its back onto the sand, legs twitching and body charred. Eeta rushes up, and delivers a Nen-infused punch to the underside of the carapace, at the juncture of its back. There is a crack, and then the lobster falls still and silent.

They all take a moment to catch their breath, and then the twins stagger over towards the others, leaning on one another for support. The beach is flooded a moment later by the fishermen and other spectators, rushing up to the creature and beginning to study it, poking it with fishing poles and tugging on the cracked parts of the shell.

The receding water tugs at List's ankles, and he takes first one step and then another away from the surf. He's breathing heavily, and a glance at Dwun confirms that he looks even worse, with dirt streaked across his face and rips in his clothing from the initial damage to the premises and the lobster's claws. As they catch up with the twins Eeta reaches out to help support Dwun, and List lets Elena reach for him as well. She ruffles his wet hair and he scowls.

One of the fishermen rushes up to them, speaking quickly and asking for help in butchering the creature. Their knives can't pierce the body, and even with the underside exposed they're having trouble ripping the meat from its shell. Eeta agrees, and joins the fishermen around the creature's body, punching at the places where they direct and waving when they start to cheer.

She rejoins them a few minutes later, and lets Elena link their arms again.

"You know," Elena says, "we didn't get to eat our dinner."

"It seems there's going to be a cookout," Eeta tells them. "We've been invited, of course. For tomorrow night."

There's a moment of silence, as the twins ponder the offer. "I think we could make time," Eeta says, finally. "I suppose we could stay another day."

"It'll be the freshest seafood we've ever had," Dwun says.

"Living the dream," List murmurs. He glances between them; even though they all look weary, there's a contented smile gracing each of their faces. His dream had been Greed Island, in a way, for so long, and even though that's over he still has the others at his side. He thinks about the rest of the team, about Ging, and despite how he tries he cannot picture Ging as anything but alone. His dreams don't include anyone who can't keep up with him.

He's thinking of a story. A new one, that includes good company and good times.

He could get used to that.

Notes:

1) The title is from The B-52's iconic song Rock Lobster

2) Romeo at Dip is used for resupplying ships at sea, when the Romeo flag (red +yellow) is located ¾ of the way up toward the point of the hoist. It basically means, "I'm prepared to receive you" which I thought was apt for a restaurant xD

3) The Ligorian coast was inspired by the Ligurian coast of Italy, and the Karpatian mountains are meant to resemble the Carpathian mountains of Europe, although the names are used outside of their original geographic context. The 273rd Hunter Exam would be the Exam six years after Ging passed. The video game names are made up and not meant to resemble any existing franchise.

4) It's unknown exactly what contributions the Greed Island crew made towards the game, but I like to think that Dwun was responsible for the hardware components of the game, and that List contributed to the writing and scripts for the NPCs/cards/etc. Limeiro was the name of the city where List and Dwun lived in Greed Island. It's unconfirmed in canon but it is also my belief that Ickshonpay was a member of the Greed Island team.

5) Thank you for reading! I would appreciate and value your comments. Please also support the other stories and art from the HxHBB!

[etherealnexus]

I’ve decided to go through the head canon exploration list as I believe it could be interesting

1. Light

Originally the organization or group led by Chronos was known as the Alliance of the light i later decided to change that due to the nature of the world of which I created where things aren’t always as it seems and many common associations are useless as nothing is inherently good or evil this is a world not of black and white but a world of grey

2. Shadows

The realm of shadows is under the leadership of Orpheus the dragon of shadowsThe realm of shadows despite common belief is not entirely black there is light in fact without light the realm of shadows would not exist light is also required to move to and from this realm

3. Truth

Ironically the most truthful of all my characters is watcher despite his label of trickster he rarely lies if he ever does not to say he tells everything he generally withholds information this is how he creates confusion selectively withholding and giving information

4. Lies

Order is an entity labeled by many as a villain as he is corruption despite his goals of which he ironically has never strayed from like watcher he is the least likely to lie but he has but only to protect people and keep people from getting involved

5. Fall

Fallen is alternate version of order who has the lost memories of broken in his mind driving him into madness and self destruction from one who desired to unify and protect the world he has fallen far as he has lost his identity lost in a permanent downward spiral of confusion and agony

6. Secure

The entrance or ‘door’ to the realm of soul is closely guarded by watcher in his “tower of doom” of which it is an irritating seemingly infinite and probably impossible to complete from either the bottom or the top whenever watcher is asked to protect something it generally ends up in his tower

7. Purpose

The apocalypse biowraith was never meant to be made it was an accident caused by the creations of others of which it has been pacified for now it is the ultimate punishment for those who played god by warping entities beyond understanding and attempting to weaponize them entities that know no mercy entities that are born of hatred, rage, and vengeance perhaps it would have been best to have let Armageddon fulfill its purpose

8. Meaning

{watcher} “42 ;o)”

9. past

The past cannot be changed, and sometimes it is doomed to repeat in fact it was looper who broke the time loop that started it all

10. future

It doesn’t matter what you have done in the past what matters is the now. The future is always ahead of you...

Looper Chronos was born in the future born after the sun became a red giant, 4593 years to be exact

11. Star

The star is dead yet alive the one who gave us hope sacrificed themselves by trapping his own realm within a loop this person was Occulta Chronos who is long since gone and in his place stand the Tower Looper Chronos

12. Sun

The Omniverse protection, surveillance, maintence system or just Omni for short was original tasked to do as its name implied until someone found the keys enabling them to access Omni and reprogram it, of which they gave it the command to destroy existence itself, though they forgot to delete the previous command causing Omni to crash, restart, and combine the commands to indirectly destroy existence... since then Omni has been encroaching upon the fine line between direct and indirect...

13. scar

Chronos has lost his left arm and right eye due to what he calls an accident but was a murder attempt by a serial killer changling of which back then he was a mechanic he was asked by a friend of his to look into and fix some machinery of which while working the changling turned on. The gears of the machine moved and caught his left arm pulling him into the machine in which another gear came around his right side and dug out his right eye a security personnel came into the surveillance room at that time and saw what was happening and a worker was able to turn off the machine Chronos had to go to the hospital which his friend payed for... he was only one of three survivors of the serial killer

14. Solitary

Aura lives within a tower of which he only leaves to STEAL books from his allies no one likes him due to what he had done not that he remembers of course but he doesn’t really care

15. Penance

There is a price to pay when a nine void soul directly hops dimensions a price that order had paid his identity was stolen from him leaving him as we see him today he is incapable of saying his real name...

16. Sinner

Aura was once an Arch mage the highest amongst his peers until he met Looper... after what he had done he lost many of his powers and memories

17. Saint

Chains is a very friendly person unfortunately he is unable to speak due to the fact he is a skeleton so he has no vocal cords but besides that he tries to befriend everyone

18.unconditional

The abyss is where it began the abyss is strange the abyss is eternal the abyss is all the abyss is what lies beyond time, space, void and even reality everything equal everything the same everything abyss

19. Rules

The universe is picky desiring to be stable and familiar void souls are ignored but their are instances where strange things happen things left behind by dimension hoppers things that don’t belong sometimes they are integrated sometimes not those that don’t end up in the void...

20. Tales

There are many tales and legends roaming around about the rebellion from times long forgotten to more recent events though it is quite hard to find them as there are many forces at work hiding them from the universe itself to what are equivalent to what can be defined as a god

21. Amazing

The infinity stone has infinite energy and a multitude of abilities such as turning people into stone or bringing objects to life, it is highly sought after and as per a deal a long time ago it is to be protect by the rebellion of souls by inheritance

22. Special

Abilities are hidden away in the soul generally tied to the personality and habits a person has each one special in its own way each one used differently

23.sick

The infinity stone despite having infinite energy can lose that energy resulting in a “dead” infinity stone of which begins to drain all kinds of energy around it and corrupt the environment decay and rot spreading around it

24.exhaustion

Abyssal is the prophet of the abyss... but there are costs to such a connection he always feels drained as his body constantly fights itself to keep him from becoming one with the abyss...

25. Choice

Xerixoth the guardian is a giant with multiple bodies of which it can mold into any shape his true self looks like a giant humanoid plant without a face he guards the labyrinth of the forgotten by choice as this was where he was born... but he does not guard that place alone that would be a waste of his talents in order to remain in what is considered an inconsequential place a useless relic of the past he guards many lands and is known by many names such as Cerberus, heimdall, ladon and many others...

26.Dream

Dreams is a nightmare or partially a nightmare as her abilities do not coincide with actual nightmares. She is able to wander the dream realm and bring people into it which she is very hesitant to do so as there are many dangers in doing so... Dreams is also able to manipulate the dream realm and she can use it to travel far distances in an instant

27.sex

The strangest gender belongs to watcher who likes to be refuted to as a male but in reality is reality itself

28. Passion

Looper is passion about machines he likes to make them and fix them he particularly likes to make machines that will help people

29.intense

There is an aura around watcher that he is able to turn on and off for people an aura that is suffocatingly intense. The aura of a god...

30. Soft

Despite being living metal gallium can choose to be soft whenever he feels like it by making himself ‘hotter’ of which makes the metal he is made of softer and surprisingly relaxing as despite whatever metal he is made of it never burns people

31. Unforgiving

You might not think it but watcher can be quite unforgiving due to the fact that it always seems like he does forgive people, but that is only because it doesn’t really bother him... No if you truly bother him he will bring down the full wrath of reality onto you he shows no mercy as those who bother him have done something that should be allowed to persist

32. Almost

The EtherealBane is a sword capable of threatening existence itself made and then broken by its own creator and the pieces scattered in a way that should have almost guaranteed it would never be reforged in fact it shouldn’t have ever had a chance and yet due to the time loop and the realm of soul free floating deep within the abyss it was able to increase its chances as now all three pieces have found their keeper when there should have only been two

33. Messy

The messiest character is Necros who generally has notes scattered about though the do generally get organized pretty fast... this messiness is due in part with Necros’s jumpy nature and Aura’s lack of respect for privacy and belongings ironically Aura’s tower is always organized but whenever he goes pillaging for new information he leaves a mess wherever he’s been and since Necros likes to make records of things he is generally the target

34. Memory

The blade of memories is a sword with the power to summon champions: people with great power that are separated from the norm generally people deemed as a hero or villain. The blade was made by the same person who made the EtherealBane in fact he made it so he could gain materials for it

35. Forgotten

Xerixoth is the only entity ever to be born in the labyrinth of the forgotten as usually entities only ever wander into it by accident the details of his birth are unknown there are no trace of his parents and yet he claims to remember them...

36. Time

Chronos has the power to manipulate time by either freezing it around him and unlike in many instances everything is frozen in place to move something it’s like pushong against a spring. And he can fast forward and rewind objects but specific objects such as if he were to fast forward the earth it would only fast forward the earth no the plants, people, buildings, etc.

37. Gift

Gifts from the elements allow great power and influence as such it is rarely give as people can use it to corrupt and control gifts from the elements are like stronger forms of rituals of which call upon the help of the elements but instead of having to ask for the power you already and may always have it, and there are worlds where everyone has this gift some thrown into chaos some in peace.

38. Red

Red is the symbol of blood, rage, determination, love, betrayal, power, strength, pain, life, healing and offense it is a color found within battlefields and berrys found within the nurturing flame and the raging wild fire Red is the color of Nature

39. Yellow

Yellow is the symbol of light, plasma, warmth, instinct, sight, safety, warnings, greed, wealth, lies, and trust it is a color that spreads rumors and light it is the color of precious metals and deception yellow is the color of information

40. Blue

Blue is the symbol of the sky, ocean, intelligence, water, truth, wisdom, trust, friendship, nobility, status, enforcement, judgement, sadness, unknown, fear, and calmness this is the color worn by officers and navy this is the color that spans far from land this is the color of the unknown and lurking Blue is the color of emotion

41. Gray

Gray is a symbol of equality, good and evil, impure, corrupted, imprisonment, loneliness, misfortune, emptiness, null, stone, protection, safety, home, smoke, metal, creation, machines, industry, gears, work, and unity gray is found within the concrete of homes and walls it separates us and protects us gray is the color of metal that is used to build our civilizations gray is the color of the stars that fall from the sky gray is the color of the sculptures we make gray is the color of the clay we mold gray is the color of creation

42. Sloshed

Watcher likes pretends to get drunk but as he is reality itself he can’t. as such even if he drinks a lot of alcohol he is very aware of his actions

43.regression

Bioweapon is very unpredictable as he (as Bioweapon prefers to be referred to) is only docile because he still cannot beat Chronos. Bioweapon is very destructive of which he has been getting better with but if thrown into a fit of rage he will go on a destructive rampage until he calms down which usually involves Chronos holding onto the tip of his tail with his robotic arm

44. Laughter

Watcher laughs a lot and each of his laughs have a different meaning. Hysteria means he’s either going to cause some chaos or is about to kill some one, a short laugh means he desires a different topic, a long slow laugh means he’s thinking, a dark laugh means he doesn’t like something, a slow dark laugh means he’s about to get serious a normal laugh just means he found something interesting or funny and the most dangerous is an obvious fact laugh which means he done with playing the role of the fool

45. Debt

For the crimes of binding the minds of others to do his bidding the hilt has taken away many memories from Aura including the title of high arch mage his power and spells that control the mind and soul have been sealed until aura learns respect

46. Work

small and intricate tasks There are machines created by Chronos for hard labor and teaching there are robots with free will also created by Chronos and finally within the library there is a spider centaur robot that looks over the library with its hive

47. Pain

The biowraiths live in perpetual pain and suffering and even once they were finally free they continue to endure as they desire to keep others from sharing the same fate... and upon this point one has to wonder if they are still even wraiths as they are no longer creatures of vengeance and rage but rather creatures of retribution and liberation

48. Hidden

Camo is an expert in scouting, archer, sniping, and camouflage it is almost impossible for one to find him if he wants to be hidden... and then there’s Chronos with his blasted eye... no matter what Camo does it always finds him

49. Power

There is no easy way to obtain gain power even if one is born with it they must learn to control it and those without it must work to get it these two principles make up this world

50. Animal

When forced to become an animal looper will either become a kobold, squid, or Phoenix based on a multitude of factors Watcher and Gallium can become whatever they want but Watcher prefers more obscure animals and gallium prefers more sturdy and offensive animals

51. Pretend

Do not be deceived as watcher is no fool he is no jester for your amusement in reality he is the strongest among them and he only plays along as he finds them interesting those foolish enough to threaten them will perish

52.pillows

Everyone has their own pillow Chrono has a normal one, watcher has one made of “dank memes and fluffy clouds” Necros used the same as Chronos but now sleeps on fortune, fortune sleeps on heated volcanic rock, Bioweapon sleeps in a tube, alchemist sleeps on himself, chains doesn’t sleep, aura uses magic when he does sleep, Camo sleeps in either trees or bushes, nebula uses foam pillow, and no one knows what gallium sleeps on... well watcher and Chronos know but they won’t tell.

53. Cigarettes

No one really likes cigarettes Bioweapon eats them I suppose but watcher destroys them alchemist sees them as poison and Chronos is neutral he doesn’t smoke but won’t stop others if they want to

54. Leader

The leader is chosen through voting and the current leader is Chronos due to the fact he try’s to get things done as efficiently as possible and is respectable of others

55.follower

Gallium is not a leader as he prefers to follow he has a strong sense of justice and desires to protect his friends

56.ring

Chronos has made rings before that had small machinery for tracking and communication as well as other tools such as lasers. There are also enchanted rings that are hoarded by aura and Necros wears some rings

57. Journal/diary

Watcher is the only one with a diary whereas Chronos, Necros, alchemist, Camo, and aura keep journals Chronos’s is filled with blueprints, Necros’s is filled with notes, records and some personal information, alchemist’s is filled with recipes for poisons and medicine, camo’s is filled with scouting information, and aura’s is filled with notes and spells. Watcher’s diary is filled with gibberish

58. Flowers

Arc has his own garden of corrupted flowers they were normal flowers that were effected by his presence becoming completely black and oozing out a black tar like substance. The flowers have the same properties as arc so he keeps people away from them

59. Tree

Many of the crash islands that seemed to have once floated spread out across the ruined planet there are long dead trees present each one have stone structures that were once powered by these trees and were able to create portals to other dimension few seeds remain and the trees seem to be uneffected by time as Chronos tried to fast forward one of the seeds

60. Nature

Being a dimension hopper allows one to experience many biomes and environments world made of fire, ecosystems that exist only in the ocean depths, a universe were the last star has gone out sending it into perpetual darkness

61. Gold

Money isn’t much of a problem as the infinity knives (knives made of shards of infinity stones) though they weaker abilities than the infinity stones allow one to clone inorganic material and because different dimensions generally don’t use the same currency they use gold... of which watcher once used to make an entire economy disappear

62. Silver

Chronos has had requests to use a silver coating instead of copper and bronze but he refused as he prefers them

63. Games

There are a variety of games available and played watcher likes to hang out by the gambling but he prefers more obscure games and particularly likes to play Ur

64. Foreign

The members of the rebellion of soul are diverse partly due to the fact that the ruined planet seems to have become the dumping ground for void souls of all ages from 0 to infinity many languages, cultures, beliefs and to Chronos’s delight technologies were learned and spread

65. Comfort

Because of the developing relationship between Necros and fortune the jumpy necromancer seems to spend a lot of time with fortune who with the motherly caring side and the confident, aggressive side comfort and help Necros become more confident

66. Music

Watcher likes to play Symphonias more specifically the hurdy gurdy, Looper is learning to play from watcher and he knows how to play a piano, gallium can play the trombone and trumpet.

67.air

Don’t underestimate air, many regard this as a supporter element but they are fools air is probably one of the elements that Looper uses the most as it is capable of creating platforms and tools they can create barriers and suffocate foes it can create invisible attacks to slice you unsuspecting target

68.water

Water is regarded as an element of healing and support capable of manipulating blood and many substance containing the molecule H2O whereas the element isn’t very suited for major defense it can be quite deadly pressurizing it can allow one to stab an enemy with many small hole

69. Fire

Fire is regarded as an offensive weapon which ironically alchemist uses for medicinal purposes one of which to seal off wounds or stop blood flow. It can also be used to regulate body temperature yes it is commonly used to destroy but the option is there

70. Earth

Earth is a hard hitting and defensive element capable of creating massive structures in seconds this is an element found with many artists

71. Definition

The ruined planet is the main base of operations for the rebellion of soul or alliance of soul it is also the area where the dark ages of their predecessors to place this is the place where many of their previous selves have died... this is where order was weakened and once sealed...

72. Forever

Chains is a four armed metal skeleton ‘wearing’ a black cloth and is covered with chains he is an immortal entity if you destroy him he will respawn in his coffin if you destroy his coffin it will simply fix itself. This is an entity fated to exist til the end... and perhaps even past that

73.never

The only person never can apply to is watcher due to the multiple dimensions meaning multiple versions of my characters that may do things these ones will never do. Because watcher is reality itself there is only one of him... well one Main him and there will never be a second

74.learn

Due to the fact the many universes have decided to dump all void soul of any age and of many types they’re going to have to be taught the same language and other more common things for some not that the ones who began it all aren’t still learning there are many things left behind from their predecessors and it doesn’t help that some of them only allow a select few of them read them

75. Teach

Some of The things taught are normal or similar to what is normally taught like math, science, reading, etc. but there are other classes that teach magic or help with learning to control abilities there are also other strange classes for many things these people may potentially deal with

76. Grief

Grief is not uncommon in fact it’s quite common there are many who grieve the sudden lost of their home and families having been dragged to a new unknown place there are others who have been here longer who grieve the loss of friends and companions who may have died in a mission there are tisks their are deaths no one likes it, and it’s unavoidable

77. Leaving

People are free to leave if they desire same with the robots unfortunately only the robots are truly allowed to leave though because after a bit perhaps a year, a month, a century, or decade the void souls always end up back on the ruined planet as such Chronos created a separate place for those who desire not to stay children are raised and at a certain age are allowed to leave if they desire...

78. Mundane

There are many mundane tasks that need to be done though interestingly they always seem to be finished... after awhile Looper learned watcher was doing it but said nothing...

79. Picture

Fortune and Necros have made many picture fortune making pictures of past or future events of people and Necros has many bizarre pictures which Watcher sometimes confiscates a few...

80. Crazy

Watcher acts crazy but he is Necros’s pictures seem crazy but they are connected to watcher, Aura is crazy but try’s to act like he isn’t. Chronos is crazy

81. Repression

Ever since looper broke the time loop he has suffered the constant torment of other versions of him who were once in the loop but failed Looper is constantly ignored by most of these past selves who disregard him as they try to take control despite how much farther Looper has come without them... Looper is chained up in his own mind barely able to use his own gifts forced to use what was used by the past selves

82. Tragedy

Chains was part of the predecessors he somewhat witnessed their end he was trapped in his coffin unable to get his chains out and something heavy preventing him from getting out he heard the final member die taking order with him sealing his soul before he himself died... it pained chains that he was unable to help his friends that he was forced to remain in his box as they all died... but at least he met them again in another life...

83. Comedy

Watcher plays the role of the fool he is the jester the joke he is an excellent distraction as he can be loud and generally says the right things to get people’s attention

84. Romantic

Of of the ‘romantic’ relationships is between the hermaphrodite humanoid hydra known as fortune and the necromancer spectral lich known as Necros

85. What if

Watcher loves the what if game... Chronos doesn’t particularly like it especially if he’s busy or it’s referring to a past instance

86. Paternal

The male side of fortune gives of a fatherly ir paternal aura whenever around Necros probably due to the fact the more caring side is effecting it, or it actually does care for Necros and it is leaking out in its aura, or both

87. Maternal

The female side of fortune always gives off an maternal aura and the aura only ever changes when around Necros when it becomes more of a loving aura

88. Better

Chronos likes to improve things it’s instinctual he might begin to make something as he suggests it he may have already made it before he suggests it sometimes it embarrasses him and others it gets him in trouble

89. Worse

Chronos has made many attempts to help the biowraiths but generally it only ends up making things worse for them he has attempted making his own which turned out fine but he couldn’t find a way to transfer that to them... in the end he simply gave up he tried and failed it was simply beyond him

90. Coping

Everyone has their own way of coping Chronos makes maxhines, watcher never seems to need to(watcher doesn’t grieve he tries to do what they would have wanted finishing anything they left unfinished killing the one who killed them he will do all of these BY ANY MEANS NESSASSARY) Necros used to hide in a corner now copes with fortune, Aura throws things, Alchemist melts the floor, Bioweapon destroys everything in sight, etc.

91. Young

The infinity stone halts the aging process at a preferred point in time and gives people immortality to age they of course can still die by fatal wounds and such just not age or disease

92. Old

The oldest people within the rebellion of soul are Chains who is immortal, and ??? Excluding watcher Who has every cancer and a lot of mutations don’t know what they were or even what gender but they are also immortal

93. Crisis

In a time of crisis the infinity stone will temporarily turn people into stone to protect the and once it’s over it will restore them this ability will also heal them and put them into a sleep like state until they are turned back

94. Body

The body is the home of the soul it is a focus for mana and the elements it is how one interacts with the physical world

95. Soul

The soul is a source of life energy it is a source and conduit for mana it last forever but be warned it can be destroyed and the soul can never be hidden

96. Mind

The mind is what controls the body it is the instructor for spells it allows thought and emotion but some are broken and can be broken it may not be physical but it is as vulnerable as the body

97. Reason

Aura is one who acts on reason he likes to know why before he does something if he does something

98. Logical

Watcher defies all logic and reason mainly because he is reality itself so he can just edit that he actively defies it as he enjoys the confusion caused

99. Hypnotize

Auras punishment was due to the fact he used a spell to control the mind and soul of others to make them do what he wanted him to when caught he was punished

100. Wisdom

The wisest of all my characters once again is watcher he is the 3rd oldest being in existence he seen it all even the beginning and creation he just has a round about way of saying things and you have to ask him if you want the information but no one expects the fool to know anything anyways