#also can I stop??? flirting with sniper in my dreams??

[demonir]

So I took a nap and had another weird tf2 dream

Soldier and sniper were sitting on a couch and I was in a unicycle??? With my hand resting on soldiers shoulder for stability but I kept wobbling a lot until I just ditched the unicycle and sat on the couch with them, sniper and I kept sneaking glances at each other and blushing but soldier was in between us making disgusted faces at us (honestly deserved)

At one point I decide to take a nap and soldier lets me rest my head on his lap and it’s very comfortable and I quickly fall asleep

Then there’s a weird like camera cut to soldier crying in the shower??? He yells “WHY AM I ATTRACTED TO YOU?” And bangs the walls of the shower with his fists and keeps crying, and yes he was wearing the helmet in the shower (I don’t know who the “you” he was referring to was)

After that I wake up from the in dream nap and there’s a commercial for a korean bakery on a huge screen??? But then the bakery manifests itself IN the room we’re in and I’m just staring at it dumbfounded when I turn to look at soldier and sniper only to see that sniper had taken off his shirt and I go “what the fuck are you doing?” To which he responds in Spanish “idk buddy hjanfnvbdjdjenvn”

Then we all see the people at the bakery place chocolate cookies on the counter and we all go “mmm cookie” before we get up to go steal the cookies

And then the dream ends 👍

[strawhatsoraya]

Would you write top Usopp? I’d rlly love to see that! Maybe a shy dense reader (she) that he’s been flirting with until he finally went “y’know what? Fuck it” and just kisses her! Or anything you’d have in mind! (I love angst with happy ending, soo 👀 👉👈)

(Lil vent: I only ever see ppl writing him as a bottom and, while I don’t judge, I just rlly don’t/ can’t see that. Yeah, he’s anxious and can be a scaredy-cat, but he’s grown and when it matters he’s super brave and confident. I feel like ppl babyfy him a lot… so I’d love to see a top Usopp being all the confident and flirty for once! It’s kinda unfair how they babyfy him so much… anyway! I’m so sorry abt this impromptu vent!! Ik it was stupid, I just been thinking abt this a whole lot! Sorry again)

Anon, I love your beautiful mind. Your wish is my command, because your wish is also my wish. We are of one mind right now. I have written some Usopp for you, with some angst, and fluff, and some smut, and guess what? He's not a bottom! So there's that.

(I refuse to accept as Usopp as bottom so you and I can stand together on this hill. I'll make room. Usopp is courageous, and trustworthy. He knows how skilled he is, and isn't shy at all in my opinion! He just gets scared and honestly rightfully so! The situations they get into are absolutely bonkers. Not everyone is as fearless as Luffy. Never worry about ranting to me!! We can rant together)

hehe ANYWAY here is the fic. I could rant for three more paragraphs if you let me. Please enjoy the Usopp meal kiss kiss xoxo

Bullseye

USOPP X FEM READER | AFAB NO PRONOUNS | NSFW

WORD COUNT: 1.7k (I could have easily written another 1k but thought i should stop while i was ahead)

A (BADLY WRITTEN) SUMMARY: Usopp doesn't understand why y/n can't just grasp the concept of him being into her??? So he makes a move because life is short.

There wasn’t a target in all the seas that he couldn’t hit. No matter how far, no matter how fast. That was the guarantee. His legacy. Sniper King, Usopp the legend of East Blue.

However, with you, it was like flinging cotton balls as ammunition; not enough force, always falling too short, nothing stuck. 

It was true that you always laughed at his jokes, crinkling your button nose, chubby cheeks partially concealing your eyes. It was true that whenever he called your name, you whipped your head in his direction, never ignored him; not even once. It was true that sometimes he’d brush the back of his hand against yours, and sometimes–maybe once or twice, your pinkies had entwined as silence fell between you; an understanding of shaky possibilities.

It was also true that you never once answered truthfully when he asked you if you had a crush. Did he know them? It was also true that he called you pretty, funny, amazing and you had taken it all in stride with a quiet laugh, stating that he was too kind; too sweet. 

He wanted to be more than sweet. He wanted to be enticing, alluring. He wanted you to see him and feel fire wrap itself around your legs, and over your hips until you were consumed by nothing but thoughts of him. He wanted you to dream of him the way he dreamed of you at night; dream of his lips the way he dreamed of yours–their taste, their shape, the way his name would tumble out in an imaginary ecstasy.

Night after night, he struggled with himself. He’d run scenarios in his mind, wondering what else he could do, what else he could say. It bothered him enough to go to Sanji, risking humiliation. Sanji had laughed, before clapping one hand on his shoulder. Some people are like flowers, he had said as they shared a glass of wine. Sometimes they need a little extra push, a little bit more care, before they can bloom.

Usopp wanted to see you bloom. He wanted your petals to open up, to reveal the tender pink inside, like cherry trees in spring. He wanted to be the breeze that shakes your branches, scattering the essence of you everywhere to carry it with him wherever he went.

He smelled you in the ocean breeze as you stood on the deck, observing the sea as you often did. You turn to him and smile, hand outstretched to him. He doesn’t have the strength to deny you. He walks towards you, heart hammering loudly between his ribs. It seeks to escape, to run away from the scene. Usopp brings a hand up to calm it, he rubs a quick circle over his chest. He murmurs a quiet promise to himself. Today, he wouldn’t let you escape. Today, he’d make you understand.

You both look out at the ocean, watch the sun sink lower into the horizon. Orange ink spills in the skies, washes away and blends in with dusty blue. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” you ask him, tilting your head up at him. He looks down at you with lips slightly parted. As if he couldn’t breathe enough. His dark brown eyes, deep and soulful, watch you and it feels as if he sees deeper than skin; deeper than flesh, sinews and bone. You swallow, trying to ignore the steady increase in body heat.

“Yeah,” he says, tearing his eyes away from you with the last shred of his will. He places an elbow on the railing of the Thousand Sunny to glance at the sunset casually. It was beautiful for sure, but the sight of your skin glowing was far more than that; far more than words he could ever utter. 

He should, though, shouldn’t he?

He swallows the nerves, they tangle in his throat. He hears you talking about something or the other; more than likely whatever shenanigans Luffy had gotten up to that day. He laughs just at the thought of it, your story barely registering. All he could do was stare at your moving lips, the way the corners of your mouth would curl up, the tiny flash of white teeth; he remembers at the most inopportune moment, he is aware, of his last dream where you sank your teeth into his shoulders to keep from crying out.

His hands shake, he feels pleasurable heat at the bottom of his belly. If he didn’t hold you tonight, if he didn’t kiss you until he was out of breath, he was as good as dead. He says your name, cutting off your speech. You blink at him, wondering when he had become so rude. You don’t get the chance to question him. His mouth is on yours, tightly pressed as one arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you in closer, fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt; desperate to keep you close. His other hand buries in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it, bringing your mouth closer to his.

You feel your body freeze, adrenaline shooting bullseyes at every nerve. Bang, Bang, Bang! And at the source of the hit, warmth blooms; ink on paper, spreading heated fingers over your skin. 

He presses his tongue against your bottom lip, and feels the chapped skin. It doesn’t bother him. He just thinks he should kiss you more properly; tenderly, to make up for it. He has you in his embrace, tongue pushing past your lips. He claims yours for the taking, moaning softly as he sucks on it. When you come up for air, you are breathless; a small shiver rattles your senses.

“I like you so much,” he confesses against the baby hairs on your temple. He kisses your cheeks, brushes his plush lips against the shell of one ear. “I want you.” You don’t trust yourself to answer. Your legs feel weak, so you clasp fistfuls of his vest. He looks down at you through his curly lashes, his ragged breathing splashing against your mouth. He takes your silence as an answer, and envelopes your small hand in his large one to lead you away from the deck.

It is fortune’s grace that you meet no one on the way to his bedroom. He pushes the door open with too much force, and it slams against the opposing wall. The noise startles you, so he apologizes quickly as he closes it, ears heating up with embarrassment. 

He tries to forget his slip up by pulling you into his embrace again, kissing you with abandon. You were in his room; you, the elusive you. It was more than he could have ever hoped. He had dreamed, yes, time and time again but those were fantasy; a cheap copy of the real you. His imagination could not compare to the softness of the inside of your mouth, the meatiness of your hips that he gripped tightly enough to bruise. You whimper as he bites on your bottom lip, tugs on it with a strength you didn’t know he possessed.

Your tongue is in his mouth again when he picks you up by the ass, long brown fingers digging into your glutes. You moan, arms wrapping around his neck as you both fall back on the bed. His weight on your body is arousing. You can’t get past the idea of how domineering it feels, as if he could pin you down and you’d be too weak to resist. He was an incredible marksman. You knew this, but wondered if he was a mind reader as well. His fingers wrap around your wrists, and he pins them over your head, his free hand snaking under your shirt, pressing flat against your belly at an excruciatingly slow pace. His callouses palms, the roughness of his skin makes you shiver.

“Usopp,” you breathe, barely able to utter the syllables. Your legs move despite your will, rubbing together as if that would stop the slickness in your panties from spreading. You don't have the courage to ask for it, so you blush instead. The sight of you biting your lip, sinking in your shoulders as if you wanted to hide shouldn’t entice him; it shouldn’t make the throbbing erection in his pants any more worse but it does. He feels it twitch, feels the need to force you to look at him. So he leaves your skin alone to grab your chin between thumb and index finger. He pulls your chin upwards, watches you until you make eye contact.

You can barely stand to look at him. Sweat drops cling to his cinnamon skin, and as your fingers twitch you remember how warm he always feels. A heat floods your belly, oozing downwards. You feel yourself become wetter the longer he stares at you. 

“I want you to look at me,” he says as he lets go of your chin. His hand travels down the center of your breasts, fingers dancing lightly over your belly. Your breathing comes in short bursts; soft pants filling up the empty room. “Make sure you keep looking at me.”

His fingers brush along the inside of your thighs. You feel them ease under the skirt. You try not to close your eyes, they flutter briefly as he finds your heated cunt. You mutter something unintelligible, maybe his name? He doesn’t quite catch it but it makes him smile to see you falling apart so easily. He discovers the elastic of your panties with two fingers, pushes it aside to gently play with your wet folds.

You’re tethered to his gaze; dark, warm and hypnotizing. You lose yourself, sink into it, as if drowning at the deep end of a pool. Was breathing even necessary when his fingers so easily slipped inside of you? You cry out at the feel of them curving; searching. You bite your lip, before you gasp, panting. He never stops watching you, even as he picks up the pace, taking the hint from your moving hips. You were art in motion; a cascade of colors; a mixed medium of sound and touch. He was a mere consumer, delirious; his only desire was to have whatever you could possibly give him.

You cry out his name, and he feels a wish fulfilled. He buries his face in your neck, his curls brushing your cheek. 

“Perfect,” he mumbled against your neck, nipping the skin he found until little purple bruises showed up. He feels like an imposter. He wishes he could leave something better; the shape slightly different, anything to add to your beauty. “You’re so perfect.” Your moans ignite his passion, your fingers are under his shirt, running sharp nails down his back. “Let’s not stop here. Give me more. I want more.”

[bitchybutcher]

Texts I sent a friend the first time I watched The Boys, Season 2:

-        Gird your loins

-        I’m dying to know more about Black Noir

-        Ugh ffs Homelander smarming about on stage at Translucents funeral

-        It’s an empty box but I suppose how would people know cause invisible corpse

-        WHY IS ANNIE SINGING AT THE INVISIBLE PERVS FUNERAL

-        Aw no straight in with Sad Kevin

-        Oh ok angry drunk Kevin

-        Ugh not these Samaritans Embrace fuckers again

-        Oh Annie. Parroting the company line. I hope she’s gonna fuck them all over

-        SAD HUGHIE OH NO

-        BILLY JOOOOOELLLL

-        Aw Kimiko is learning

-        Her lil smile

-        Oooh Hughie is a liiiiiar

-        Meeting on the subway like a couple shifty teenagers

-        Oh I forgot they microchipped the supes like dogs

-        Oh nooooo young love angst

-        Oh no a Sad Kevin incident

-        Aaaaand he’s been arrested

-        A nice archer bailed him out

-        Omfg the fake Butcher re-enactment

-        Oh do NOT tell me this crazy bastard is gonna drink the frozen breast milk

-        Oh fuck he is

-        What the FUCK, HOMELANDER

-        This visually impaired ninja seems nice

-        That probably means he’s gonna turn out to be a dick

-        OH FUCK

-        Homelander what the fuuuuuck

-        Ok what the shit is happening here in the motel

-        WHAT

-        What the fuuuuuck

-        I – MM is making a dolls house? That’s so cute

-        Oh shit smuggled people

-        Homelander is nuts with power

-        Uhhhh who is Carol and why is she staring at Kevin while he sleeps

-        Finally an archer who is honest about how useless they can be once they run out of arrows

-        Oh noooo are they gonna try brainwash Kevin with homeopathic stuff? And why do they keep offering him Fresca

-        OH FUCK ME NOT ANOTHER RELIGION THING

-        Oh Hughie has grown a pair since last season. Good for him

-        Where’s Butcherrrrrrrr

-        Body gore porn dude is called Gecko that’s too cute a name for him

-        Stormfront seems like fun

-        She’s gonna be pissing off Homelander so much I like her already

-        OH WHAT THE FUCK THE CIA LADYS HEAD EXPLODED

-        I like Stan

-        Giving Homelander the dressing down he needs

-        I know it’s convenient for Toni to wear the padded suit all the time but does Homelander ever wear anything else

-        Oh hiiii Becca I still think you’re a bitch and Butcher deserved better

-        BUTCHERRRRR YASSSSS

-        “Daddy’s home”

-        I’m dead. It’s official.

-        The fuckin smirk and the voice I’m fuckin dead

-        OH NO KEVIN IS TRYING THE CHURCH THING

-        Is he making shroom tea

-        Why is Patton Oswalt voicing Kevin’s gills this is delightful

-        Atrain is awake again that’s not good

-        I’m cracking up at Sad Kevin and his singing gills

-        Homelander is gone way off the deep end oh boy

-        Awwww soft Maeve in the hospital with her girlfriend

-        I want to like Becca but I can’t shake the bad feeling

-        Homelander is a terrible father

-        I mean I know he has no role models to base his parenting on, but yikes

-        It’s like if Scar was raising Simba instead of Mufasa

-        ….are the gang raiding a party city store

-        I love how Frenchie always looks a mix of horrified and amazed whenever Kimiko kills someone

-        AWWW IT’S HER BROTHER YAY

-        Oh shiiiiiiiit

-        Butcher STOP JUST SHOOTING PEOPLE

-        You were right this season is weird

-        I like Kimiko’s brothers bedazzled denim jacket

-        Butcher don’t punch Hughie wtf

-        Starting with Hughie listening to the same song again, nice

-        Butcher is terrible at apologising it’s so cute

-        I’m sorry did Hughie just fall over trying to throw a punch

-        The kid’s a dandelion omg

-        Why are they on a boat? Did Karl just decide “I like being on boats lemme go on a boat”?

-        I see what you mean about Homelander being scary

-        He’s completely insane

-        Why does this storyboard guys shirt say assbinder

-        Chace Crawford is an excessively veiny man

-        BLACK NOIR IS CRYING

-        Or possibly laughing

-        Hard to tell when they have no face

-        Annie actually leaked all the compound V stuff good for her

-        FRENCHIE KISSED HUGHIE

-        Homelander is gonna get this kid killed tryna make him fly

-        Honestly the kid looks more like Hughie

-        OH MY GOD HE PUSHED HIM OFF THE ROOF

-        OH MY SWEET FUCKING JESUS HOMELANDER YOU CAN’T DO THAT

-        Oop there’s the laser eyes

-        Oh Homelander is back at the Tower and freaking Maeve out

-        OH FUCK THE BROTHER IS LOOSE

-        Hughie don’t do it

-        Oh ok I thought he was gonna jump off the boat

-        Kevin and the cult weirdos are up to something

-        Hughie no you don’t call the girl you like crying over Billy Joel lyrics

-        Oh god boyo you don’t then drop the L word in the same voice message!

-        He’s hopeless

-        Oh nooooo Kevin is attacking the boat goddammit Kevin

-        OH FUCK A WHALE

-        For fuck sake Kevin

-        Ewwwww

-        Butcher what the fuck

-        Hughie having a nervous breakdown inside of a whale

-        No but why is Karl so hot covered in blood

-        Actually I didn’t even need to include the blood part of that question

-        Oh boy here we go, the 7 show up to find Sad Kevin crying over spilt whale

-        ….why is Stormfront tryna get all up in Homelander’s ass?? I thought she was cool but now she’s all lemme suck that radioactive dick

-        OH NO

-        Poor Kevin he’s worked so hard to accept his gills and now Homelander has knocked him back down

-        Oooo dear Atrain is having a heart attack again this isn’t good

-        Oh fuck is Hughie gon get caught

-        Oh no it’s Annie it’s ok

-        OH FUCK

-        ANNIE WHY

-        THAT’S YOUR HUGHIE

-        OH MAN KIMIKO’S BROTHER IS BADASS YES SQUASH THE SMUG PRICK

-        Oh I do NOT like Stormfront holy fuckin shit what’s wrong with this woman

-        Poor Kimiko

-        What’s with the random woman talking about calling off her wedding?

-        Why is Frenchie taking drugs

-        FUCK SAKE FRENCHIE DON’T TRY KISS A GIRL WHEN SHE’S GRIEVING

-        What the FUCK is thiiiiis

-        Is he dreaming or is this the shapeshifter tryna stay alive by granting Homelander some sick wish

-        Yikes I feel bad for Doppelganger

-        I am fascinated by whoever and whatever the fuck Black Noir is

-        MM sees right through everyone’s bullshit

-        I feel so bad for Annie

-        Ooooo Atrain getting fired

-        MM having to put up with Hughie and Annie having a we didn’t start the fire singalong 😂

-        Ok who’s in the weird group therapy sesh with these women with strange views on love

-        Vending machine date so cute

-        Omfg ahahahaha the girl with the Ed Sheeran tattoo

-        I really want to like Becca cause she stands up to Homelander but I can’t shake the suspicions about her

-        I feel bad for Butcher

-        Homelander is a scary good liar

-        Oh shit interviewer lady is pulling out the diversity questions

-        OH FUCK

-        HE’S OUTED MAEVE

-        Poor Maeve what the fuck

-        Ugh Stormfront

-        Shut your racist hole bitch

-        Oh shit Kimiko on the warpath

-        Frenchie! Kimiko listen to him he’s tryna help

-        MM is doing a lotta sharing this episode

-        Ohhhh something bad is gonna come out about this Liberty lady they’re looking for oh fuck

-        Wait WHAT. STORMFRONT IS LIBERTY

-        Stormfront is like 70????

-        She’s really good with social media for an old bird

-        Ohhh fuck Homelander is pisssssssssed

-        Christ you’d know Homelander was an only child

-        Bitch you better not be fucking Butcher over

-        I FUCKIN KNEW IT

-        BECCA YOU RAGING BITCH

-        Got her goodbye fuck then called the supercops on him cause he’s a little broken? FUCK BECCA

-        Oh no Annie don’t give Hughie the “we can’t do this” talk

-        Pick your emo ass up and stop being melodramatic

-        All these women are chatting to Kevin?? Why??

-        Also this most recent one is super weird

-        THEY WERE INTERVIEWING TO BE KEVINS WIFE

-        This cult thing is so fuckin weird omfg

-        KEVIN GET YOUR SAD BUTT OUT OF THE CULT

-        Oh gross not the Doppelganger shit again

-        Doppelganger is really bad at flirting

-        ….

-        WHAT THE SHIT

-        Nonononono don’t do the selfcest

-        Not even Homelander is that fucked up

-        This is super weird

-        Why is Homelander crying

-        OH SHIT HE KILLED HIM

-        Uhhhh are they doing a lesbian scene in a vcu movie

-        Christ that was terrible and way too on the nose

-        “Strong female lesbians”

-        Homelander you himbo fuck what other kind of lesbian do you get

-        I feel bad for Ashley

-        She just wants to do her job well

-        Poor Butcher. His lil heart is broken

-        Oh no baby you’re hurt and upset? That’s so sad let me suck your dick about it

-        Oh no what’s he gonna do

-        BUTCHER WHAT THE SHIT

-        I mean it’s really fuckin hot but still

-        There’s always a cut on the cheekbone

-        “They’ve been moving her around like a Catholic priest” omg HUGHIE

-        Aww he called Hughie his canary

-        Oh shit are Frenchie and Kimiko missing?

-        KEVIN GOT MARRIED

-        BILLY HAS AN AUNTIE

-        Doggiiiiie

-        Awwwww soft Butcher with his dog

-        Aaaand now I feel bad for Atrain cause he’s being kicked to the curb

-        Oh gross this interview with Kevin and his cult wife

-        This is so cringe holy fuck

-        Bring back the Patton Oswalt gills

-        Why are the gangsters discussing musicals specifically Hamilton

-        FUCKING HELL KIMIKO PEELED OFF THAT GUYS FACE

-        Ahahaha the boys showed up at Butchers aunties house

-        The dog’s name is Terror that’s so cute

-        Hahahaha Hughie was holding the fuck pig

-        Why is there a sniper on the roof

-        Oh shit it’s Black Noir

-        Ugh what does Annie’s mom want and why is Stormfront being her friend

-        Oh hey it’s dickless

-        These two writer dudes are hella irritating

-        Poor Elena getting dragged into this shit

-        Yes Maeve scheme against his ass

-        Heartbroken Butcher is so tired

-        He needs a hug

-        Hughie give Butcher a hug please

-        Why is Kimiko in a church

-        Oh hey its Frenchie’s other girlfriend

-        Oh ok Kimiko is doing hits that’s fair

-        The old man just looking away like “I do not see it”

-        Aw no Frenchie don’t break up with Kimiko

-        Oh fuck off Cult Kevin

-        Stormfront again?????

-        Does this bitch ever fuck off

-        DID SHE JUST CALL ATRAIN GARBAGE

-        Wait why is Homelander giving an unapproved speech

-        This is gonna end in someone getting murdered isn’t it

-        OH FUCK

-        That’s a lot more murder than I expected

-        Ohhhh phew ok he was just daydreaming

-        Ashley is gonna go bald from stress

-        I adore grumpy Butcher

-        Omg auntie Judy is a drug dealer I love her

-        Ohhhh shit Homelander is having a nervous breakdown

-        BOBBY FROM X-MEN????

-        Uhhhh why is Homelander talking to Stormfront this can’t be good

-        Ooh MM set a trap this gon be good

-        BUTCHER HAS A BROTHER???? THAT HUGHIE IS LIKE

-        Oop Lenny is dead

-        The random explosions as Black Noir trips the traps

-        Oh shit Butcher locked the others out to face Black Noir alone

-        YES MM

-        OH NO MM

-        YES HUGHIE

-        Oh fuck did he KO Butcher

-        Shiiiit shit shit shit

-        Yes Butcher save your Hughie

-        Oh good they all survived

-        For fuck sake Kevin stop with the cult shit

-        Maeve please save Kevin from the cult

-        Annie why are you sneaking around don’t do it

-        There’s a lot of shots of Annie’s bum

-        What the fuck is Sage Grove

-        Stormfront needs to go choke on a bag of dicks

-        Oh fuck no not Homelander again

-        Uhhhhhhh

-        Stormfront x Homelander was not what I was expecting

-        These two have the WEIRDEST relationship

-        They’re gonna do some really fucked up supe bdsm shit aren’t they

-        Frenchie is Betty White. Fair enough

-        Wait what is happening. Why is Annie letting Frenchie at her with a lil saw

-        Ohhh the chip

-        “This might sting a little” FRENCHIE IT’S A FUCKIN SAW

-        Oh fuck that’s a big chip

-        Oh look it’s loves psychotic dream

-        Well that’s suitably gross

-        Aww Kimiko hugging Annie

-        Butcher is so menacing I love him

-        Kevin tryna be helpful to his buddies he’s so cute

-        NO! NO BAD KEVIN! STOP TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE JOIN YOUR CULT

-        Kimiko with her brass knuckle

-        Oh man, flowers??? Homelander has it BAD

-        Annie back the fuck off and leave Butcher alone

-        OH SHIT IT’S STORMFRONT AT THE HOSPITAL NOOOO

-        What the fuck is going on at this hospital

-        OH FUCK BOBBY FROM X-MEN IS LAMPLIGHTER

-        Oh shit who got let out

-        What does Cindy do

-        OH SHIT SHE’S THE HEAD BURSTER

-        Aaaaaaand now they’re all out

-        Good job, guys

-        Ewwwwww acid vomit

-        OH NO HUGHIE

-        Are you kidding me?? Annie can’t go all Starlight unless there’s a power source in the immediate vicinity??

-        What kinda fuckin shite superpower is that

-        Aha Butcher agrees with me

-        Ok so I’m guessing Homelander went berserk on set

-        Uhhhh apparently Cult Lunch is a therapy sesh?

-        Atrain get outta there

-        This cult leader guy is an arsehole

-        Hospital escape lookin like a horror survival game

-        Awwww flashbacks to happy times

-        Omfg Butcher with the slicked back hair

-        Welp, Annie just killed a guy

-        Oh shit a baby seat

-        Annie is gonna have a bad case of the guilts now

-        Oh fuck ok Lamplighter killed the kids by accident

-        So Frenchie went to save his friend instead of tailing

-        Oh god that’s the penis isn’t it

-        Stormfront to the…rescue? Maybe? She’s gonna kill Lamplighter isn’t she

-        Oh, no ok she didn’t kill him

-        Aw no sad Butcher cause Hughie’s hurt

-        Oh nooooo Elena found a video from the plane

-        Mallory gon kill sad Lamplighter?

-        Stormfront is coming clean to Homelander? Whaaaa

-        She was buddies with the Nazis??? SHE WAS MARRIED TO THE VOUGHT FOUNDER GUY

-        Oh fuck the head burster is still alive

-        A montage of how Stormfront is brainwashing people into racist attacks, nice

-        I hate Annie’s mom so much

-        Black Noir has just fuckin LAMPED Annie

-        Butchers mum called him 😂😂

-        Oh shit his dad died

-        Why are Hughie and Lamplighter watching knock off supe porn

-        Oh boy a racist rally

-        Homelander just threw Annie under the bus

-        Hughie that’s a really weird pep talk

-        And he’s gonna get Lamplighter killed

-        BUTCHERS MUM IS ADORABLE

-        Oh shit it’s Denethor

-        And he’s not dead

-        Oh fuck he’s why Lenny died?

-        Shit Lenny shot himself

-        Butcher was SAS???

-        WHERE ARE MY PICS OF BUTCHER IN HIS ARMY UNIFORM

-        Ah fuck he’s bringing stepmommy Stormfront to meet the kid

-        I have an urge to run my fingers through Butchers beard

-        Frenchie and Kimiko are too cute she’s teaching him her sign language

-        Is this a cult birthday party?

-        Poor Eagle the Archer. He pissed off the cult so he’s gon be excommunicated

-        Uhhhh kiddo made a Lego film?

-        Good for him

-        I know it shouldn’t be sexy when Butcher starts threatening to brutally murder people in his growly voice, I know, but hear me out: sexy growly voice

-        11/10 would let Karl Urban murder me

-        Oh FUCK Lamplighter killed himself

-        Poor Hughie

-        Why do all the bad things happen to him, like having to saw off a dead guy’s hand with a broken whiskey decanter

-        Annie versus Black Noir, beat his/her ass girl!

-        HUGHIE COME SAVE YOUR ANNIE

-        YAY MAEVE

-        Black Noir has an almond allergy that’s such an off the wall weakness

-        Annie’s favourite chocolate bar saved her life

-        Well Maeve did, technically. But still

-        Omg Hughie accidentally saving Annie’s mom

-        Hughie and Annie are too cute

-        Oh shiiiiit Homelander screwed the pooch and showed the kid everything

-        HAHA SUCK IT BECCA

-        OH SHIT HEADS ARE BURSTING ALL OVER THE PLACE

-        Butcher in his lil jumper

-        For a non-American, this school safety psa video is supremely weird

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS CALLED BOB

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS JUST BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURAL BUT FANCY

-        Annie’s mom critiquing her choice in boyfriends while in mortal danger is gas

-        And typical

-        The lads going nuts with weapons they’re so happy look at them

-        And Butcher in his lil jumper again he looks so comfy

-        I would very much like to cuddle him in the soft jumper and give him beard scritches

-        Annie ffs let Hughie enjoy his Billy Joel, that’s a good choice

-        Ahahaha Maeve just called Hughie a twink

-        She’s not wrong

-        Oh fuck off Becca

-        Uuuuugh OF COURSE Mr Edgar is in with the cult

-        Oop Atrain overheard all of that

-        Poor Ashley she’s going bald from stress

-        The kid is gonna have a meltdown

-        Poor Hughie with his mom leaving

-        I wonder if she’ll pop up at some point and turn out to be a supe that would be fun

-        ATRAIN YOU CAN’T JUST APPEAR IN A CAR LIKE THAT YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEONE

-        Hold the phone is Homelander actually being a good dad for a minute

-        What the actual fuck is Stormfront on with this white genocide shit

-        Ahahaha the news broke

-        Uh oh the Vought soldiers got caught by Homelander

-        OH SHIT

-        MM BETTER BE OK

-        Becca fuckin constantly squawking about Ryan is so annoying

-        WHY IS KIMIKO LAUGHING

-        It’s adorable but still

-        Oh FUCK she snapped her neck

-        She’ll be fine

-        She’s like a wolverine, snapped neck won’t keep her down

-        AYYYYY MAEVE

-        The lads just watching them kicking the shit out of her like uhhh

-        Oh hey Becca did something useful and stabbed the Nazi in the eye

-        Huh. The kid melted Stormfront

-        Good for him

-        AHAHAHA YES HE GOT BECCA TOO

-        BYEEEEE FELICIAAAAA

-        I mean yeah, heartbroken sad Butcher isn’t nice to see, but Becca sucked

-        Aaaand now Homelander covered in blood has arrived to listen to Stormfront babble in German

-        This is like in those scenes where it’s like oh who will the dog go to

-        Ayyy Atrain got back into the 7

-        Aww poor Kevin getting rejected again

-        See Kevin this is why we don’t join cults

-        Annie thought he was breaking up with her, girl don’t be daft

-        Butcher and the kid, not awkward at all

-        The one lesson Butcher can teach a kid – “don’t be a cunt”

-        Aww happy endings for all the boys

-        Aaaaand a “happy ending” for Homelander too by the looks of it

-        Oh ffs a corrupt politician in with the cult, what a surprise

-        HIS HEAD BURST

-        Wait the politician lady is the head burster? I’m so confused

-        Confusion may have been aided by it being almost 3am

-        Hughie getting a real job, bless him

-        Too bad it’s with the head burster

-        Oh this is such a good song to end the season with

-        Welp, now begins the long wait for season 3, I guess

-        Should I sleep or find fic to read

-        Body says sleep, heart says fic

-        That’s a lie, heart says Butcher

-        ….Butcher fics it is

[tes-trash-blog]

So, uh, a while back you mentioned making a post about how Prisoner McNord might affect the player experience/perceptions of the "default" and I would be super interested in reading that

So!

I have a few thoughts already on what is considered “default” in Skyrim to be expanded upon in a future shitstorm rant (it’s on the list, between Almalexia Is Interesting Actually and Even More Crying About Snow Elves Part 17: My Tears Have Become Sentient And Are Also Crying).

And as always, keep in mind that Skyrim is coming up on 9 years old, elements of it have not aged well, and this is in no way, shape, or form meant to be a “If you like Skyrim then you’re Bad” rant. In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of love that game. It has flaws; all games do, and frankly it’s a miracle this game is as solid as it is. The writers are that, writers. They had deadlines to make, hardware limitations to consider, and above all else, worked for a company that wanted to make money.

To keep this relatively short I’ll focus on how your perception of Skyrim is influenced by the first few minutes of the game via Ralof, the Nordiest Nord to Nord since Ysgranord, and how the writers really, really really wanted you to hold on to that perception.

Overanalysis and spoilers (Metal Gear Solid, Borderlands, and Bioshock respectively yes this will all make sense in context) under the cut.

Part 1: How To Make A Perspective In Three Easy Steps

As the saying goes, first impressions are lasting impressions. This is evident in.. well, every bit of media you can find. The first chapters of a book, the first episode of a show, the first 15 minutes of a video game, all as a general rule:

1.) Introduces the setting, a part of the main plot, and with these two, sets the tone of the medium (high fantasy movie, light hearted TV show, mystery series, horror game, etc.). Exceptions exist, especially in horrors, mysteries, and certain visual novels, but even these exceptions rely on setting a tone so they can subvert your expectations later on.

2.) Give you an idea of what is going on. This is normally accomplished with exposition of some sort; Star Wars had its famous screen crawl expositing the dark times in the Galaxy, Borderlands literally begins with “So, you want to hear a story..”, Metal Gear Solid briefs Solid Snake (you, the player character) on a vital mission to save two hostages and end a terrorist threat, so on and so forth. And again, there are exceptions: Bioshock purposefully disorients you with a plane crash in the middle of the ocean so you’re inclined to trust the first person who talks to you.

This all serves to suspend disbelief, immerse you, and earn your trust. This is a new world, you have no idea what’s going on, so you’re gonna take cues from someone who does. Combine points 1 and 2, and that..

3.) Gives you an idea of what is “good” and what is “bad”. Damn near every story has a central conflict, you gotta pick a side, and there’s gonna be a bias as to which one is superior or morally just. Using Bioshock again, this mysterious man named Atlas guides you through the first level, and tells you how to fight and survive in the hostile environment of Rapture; meanwhile, Andrew Ryan taunts and belittles you, and also has a giant golden bust of himself. The shorthand is: Atlas is humble, helpful, and good, while Andrew Ryan is a megalomaniac who wants you dead. Leaning on Borderlands again, the first voice you hear is literally a guardian angel telling you not to be afraid, and that you are destined to do great things. Once more with Metal Gear: Your organization and your commanders are good, you are good because you’re saving innocent people, and FOXHOUND is bad because they’re terrorists who have the means to launch a nuclear warhead.

Keeping all this in mind, let’s do a quick runthrough of the first, let’s call it 15 minutes of Skyrim. No commentary on my end, just a play by play of the beginning of the game.

Part 2: First Impressions In Action

You wake up on a cart. Your vision is hazy, and you are clearly disoriented. You see a man bound and gagged, another man in rags, and several men dressed like soldiers. Everyone on the cart is tied up, and the people driving the cart are wearing a neat, vastly different uniform.

Then comes the famous line: “You! You’re finally awake! You were caught trying to cross the border, got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us, and that thief over there!” The thief bitterly remarks how these damn Stormcloaks had to cook up trouble in a nice and lazy Empire. The Nord who first spoke with you nobly says that we’re all brothers and sisters in these binds.

The presumed Imperial tells you all to shut up. Undeterred, the thief and the Stormcloak provide more exposition: The gagged man is the leader of the resistance, is supposedly the true High King, and since he’s on the cart, it’s clear that everyone on board is bound for the executioner’s block. The thief is terrified; the Nord accepts his fate, but takes a moment to opine on better days when he flirted with girls and “when the Imperial walls made him feel safe.” There is also a remark about General Tulius and the Thalmor agents; the Nord, in a rare bit of anger, damns the Elves and insinuates they had a hand in this capture.

It’s execution time. General Tulius gives a speech about how Ulfric started a civil war and killed the former High King; Ulfric, being gagged, cannot say a word in defense. A Stormcloak is executed to mixed reactions (“You Imperial bastards!” “Justice!”, etc.). The thief runs away; he is shot by Imperial archers, demonstrating the futility of escape. It’s your turn. The Nord in Imperial armor states you’re not on the list; the Imperial captain doesn’t care and orders you to the block anyway.

You see the headsman’s axe rise up when, as if the gods intervene, a dragon appears and interrupts your execution. In the chaos, you run with the Stormcloaks. The game does not give you the option to run away alone, or with the Imperials; until you meet Hadvar again in the fire and death, you take orders from Ulfric.

Part 3: The Crux

A lot happens in the first few minutes of Skyrim. You’re disoriented from being unconscious, and that’s compounded by your two near death experiences (point 2), the first person you meet is a calm, almost reassuring mouthpiece of exposition while the other side, at best, doesn’t care if you die (points 2 and 3), one major aspect of the plot is revealed (point 1, and the tone is that this is a classic Rebellion story).

And people love rebellion stories. Americans especially; we spend billions on the day when a bunch of white guys said “fuck you” to a bunch of other white guys. With the additional layer of when Skyrim was developed, by who, and in what landscape it was written.. Yeah. There may be two ways to go for the Civil War questline, but for most players (myself included!) their first gut instinct is going to be “side with the guys who didn’t just try to kill me.”

It’s the same song and dance. In Bioshock, your instinct is to trust the Irish guy who wants to help you get out of Rapture alive, but he needs your help first. In Borderlands, your instinct is to trust the woman who is literally called a guardian angel, and she shows her compassion by asking you to help the people of Fyrestone and the poor robot who got hurt in a gunfight. In Metal Gear, your instinct is to shut down the threat because terrorists are evil and these ones are not just terrorists, they’re deserters. Hell, even in other Elder Scrolls games the plot is laid out by helping hands: you’re a prisoner being contacted by your murdered friend, and given the goal to stop Jagar Tharn (Arena), you’re a Blades agent tasked with putting a vengeful spirit to rest that leads you to a weapon that can secure the Empire’s power (Daggerfall), Azura literally tells you not to be afraid, and that you destined to stop an old threat (Morrowind), and a soon-to-be-assassinated Emperor voiced by Actual Grandpa Patrick Stewart recognizes you in a prophetic dream (Oblivion).

Where Skyrim departs from these games, and even the other Elder Scrolls titles, is how much it enforces the first thing you see as solidly good and evil, and how little it tries to subvert that perception. Remember point 2, when the game makes it clear that this person is trustworthy? Therein lies the bread and butter of psychological horror, mysteries, and heart wrenching plot twists: that trust gets tested, and often broken.

The rebel leader Atlas? He’s somehow more evil than Andrew Ryan, and has subtly controlled you the entire time with a command phrase (“Would you kindly..?”). You are unable to stop yourself when you bludgeon Andrew Ryan to death at Ryan’s command. “A man chooses,” he tells you. “A slave obeys.” His final words are him telling you that you are a puppet, only able to obey.

The end of Borderlands reveals that “Angel” was watching you the entire time.. from a Hyperion satellite. You were tricked into opening a Vault holding back a dangerous monster, and you don’t even know why. Borderlands 2 goes further into just what (or rather who) Angel is: a teenage girl and a powerful Siren, used by her own demented, evil, father, Handsome Jack, to manipulate the Vault Hunters and gain more power for himself. Her final mission given to you is simple: she wants you to set her free and end her father’s mad march to power by killing her.

Metal Gear Solid ultimately plays it straight in that you stop the terrorists and disable the nuclear threat, but you don’t emerge from the rubble as an action hero; you’re forced to kill your own brother, the terrorist cell is revealed to be composed almost entirely of people exploited by your organization, and you secretly carry  a virus designed to kill the people you were trying to save. War, as it turns out, is not as clear-cut as “we good, they bad”. The people you’ve killed without thinking are your genetic brothers. Sniper Wolf, the assassin who shot your commander’s niece, survived a genocide and has never known a life outside of war. Psycho Mantis’ telepathic gifts were exploited by both the KGB and FBI until he lost his mind. Ocelot is Ocelot.

Oh, but those are other games. What about The Elder Scrolls? Well..

In Daggerfall, your search for hidden correspondence leads you to finding the Mantella, a sort of soul gem that can power the superweapon everyone wants: The Numidium. There are six entities total who want the Mantella, some for their personal gain, one to make a home for his people, and one so he may finally die; the Underking’s soul is in that gem, you see, and he’s been trapped in this misery since the days of Tiber Septim.

In Morrowind, Dagoth Ur recognizes you not as a schlub with a dummy thick journal, but as his oldest and dearest friend. The Empire who guided you for so long? They’ve manipulated you into taking down the Tribunal, destroying the one weapon that could stand against their might, and depending on your interpretation of “then the Nerevarine sailed to Akavir”, have possibly killed you.

And what of everyone’s favorite game in the series to mock? Surprise! Oblivion isn’t even about you, hero! It’s about the actual chosen one, Martin Septim! Sure you can join the Thieves’ Guild and cavort about as Grey Fox, or uncover the traitor of the Dark Brotherhood, or run off and become the Mad God.. but none of those events actually acknowledge you. To be the Grey Fox is to literally be forgotten, by the time the Dark Brotherhood questline is complete there is effectively no more Dark Brotherhood, and to become Sheogorath is to lose yourself entirely. The Hero of Kvatch is one who is ultimately forgotten. Your actions were important, have no doubt, but such is the fate of the unsung hero: they’re not sung about.

Even Arena plays a little bit with your expectations in that the Staff of Chaos alone isn’t enough to stop Jagar Tharn; you need friendship (just kidding it’s a magic gem in the Imperial Palace). Skyrim.. kinda glosses over that. They land a few punches, but for them to stay with you, you have to keep an open mind.

Part 4: Why does that matter?

Because if your expectations are never subverted, your trust never tried in any meaningful way, then your perception of a very specific, spoon-fed worldview is never challenged. The trust you build with a group that is, in essence, a fascist paramilitary cult is never shaken in any way that’s meaningful. You get some lines intended to evoke sadness when you sack Whiterun, but by then it’s too late. Not that it matters; at the end of the Stormcloak questline, there’s not much question about who was in the right. You never lose friends or allies; the Jarls in the holds change, but is there much difference between Idgrod Ravencrone and Sorli the Builder? You might feel a little guilty when you see the Dunmer forced to live in the slums, but then the haughty High Elf says that she didn’t laze around and instead made a name for herself, or the Dark Elf farmer who complains about his snowflake kinsmen harping on about “injustices”. The Argonians seem decent until you meet the skooma addict/thief, and the Khajiit.. let’s just say that even if we disregard the two Khajiit assassins sent to kill you, there exist a lot of extremely harmful stereotypes that none of your friends dispel. They commit no horrific war crimes in your presence, the worst you hear is a Nord (normally a bandit) yell “Skyrim is for the Nords!”, or the clumsy Welcome to Winterhold script where a Dunmer woman is harassed by two Nords; one’s a veteran, by the way. Got run through the chest by an Imperial craven, or so the story goes.

Your only chance to rattle the Nord-driven story is to go against your gut feeling and side with the Imperials (the plotline is pretty weak, not gonna lie), or complete the optional quest No One Escapes Cindha Mine where you see what a Stormcloak sympathizer does to the Forsworn. Even if you complete that quest, the Forsworn still attack you. “They’re savages,” say the Nords, and the game isn’t too inclined to say otherwise.

When it comes to portraying the Nords in any light that’s not negative, Skyrim doesn’t deliver like it did in other games. You saw what life is like in Morrowind under Tribunal rule; it’s not great. The Houses are almost universally awful and they have slaves. You see the destruction in Cyrodiil and hear the rumors on how much the Empire is flailing with the Oblivion Crisis. Hell, even Arena tells you that life in Tamriel kind of sucks, but it’ll suck a little less when Tharn is dead.

That doesn’t happen in Skyrim. You are encouraged to join the sympathetic Stormcloaks, you find out your destiny as Dragonborn, and you set all these things right. Of course you do. You’re a hero, baby. Others have gone on about how storybook the Dragonborn questline is so I won’t go too much in, but that’s it exactly: Storybook. You’re Neutral Good. You’re going to kill the bad dragon that wants to do its job and eat the world. 

And that refusal to really examine the nuances and horrors of war, to consider what it means to be a hero that is never morally challenged or forced into a Total Perspective Vortex, to never challenge an extremely biased perspective or even explore its “logical” conclusion?

It leads to extremely dangerous ways of thinking if unchecked.

[monochromemedic]

Lovestruck

“Craig?” “...Yes?” “Did you ever see such a beautiful sky before?” I asked, looking at the stars of the Mojave.   “Looks like any normal night.” He answered blankly, snuffing out his cigarette on the rocky outlook, exhaling a cloud of smoke that slowly drifted upward. “I guess I just don’t look up as much as I use to. Usually always looking down or... back. Forgot how pretty the sky can be. I swear I could count every star in the galaxy it’s so clear.”  Boone looked over and then up towards the sky, frowning a little as he began to stare at the sky. “Guess I haven’t either. Use to. Back in Novac, before Carla. Then I just kept looking to the hills, looking for the next bastard to kill. Stars was all I had for a while. Kinda mocking me.” “You could make new memories. Stars don’t have to remind you of the bad times.” He responded with a huff through his nose, bringing a knee up to his chest and resting his arm on top of it. “Not so sure.”  I rubbed my hands, chilled to the bone like the skin of a corpse. I was never a warm person, always cold. The cold of the desert didn’t help, I probably felt like dry ice. I scooted a little closer to Boone, and felt the warmth radiating from his body. How the hell Boone was able to do that in some NCR uniform was a miracle. “Craig your really warm.” No response. I looked down at the group of followers that was sleeping below our lookout point and then back at Boone, giving a little smile. Maybe right now I could give him a good memory, or even a fun one. Something to put the idea of his past at bay. Well... and warm me up. I slowly took my hand and slid it up the back of Boone’s uniform, causing him to jump and swat my hand away, face furious as he glared at me. “Don’t try it.” “Boone... i’m so cold... I’m freezing out here, but you... you’re warm! Show me those NCR Survival tactics, shove my hands in your armpits to keep the frostbite away.” I laughed, shoving my hands against him as he tried to scoot away  eventually stopping the struggle and sitting there, accepting his horrible existence as a furnace. I slid closer to him, head on his shoulder as I closed my eyes as I felt the warmth slowly melt into my body as Boone teeth began to chatter. “Aw thank you Boone, I feel better already. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, i’d be an ice cube.” “Wish you were.” I gave a somber chuckle and pressed my forehead against his back, fingers pressing against his body as I thought for a while, enjoying this moment  in time before looking back into the sky, cheek pressed against his. “I’d be dead then, you’ve saved my ass more times then I could admit. If you wanted me to be an ice cube then you wouldn’t give me that sleeping bag that one night outside of Freeside... That one night when we visited Goodsprings, and I was upset... you held me close. You could have let me freeze.”  Boone was dead quiet, jaw strained nervously as he took a shaky breath. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”  “No... just thinking of the good times. Trying to prove that you didn’t want to leave me for dead. If that’s considered flirting then yes. I am flirting the fuck out of you.” I laughed as he turned his head just slightly towards me, cheeks pink. “I consider it flirting when you’re touching me like that. You’re hands don’t need to be on my chest.” My cheeks reddened as well as I slowly looked to the ground, realizing I was mindlessly playing with his chest while talking. It was just kinda there. I realized how much I was touching his nipple. I quickly shot my arms out of his shirt and scooted back, laughing nervously before choking on my own spit and beginning to ungraciously hack. Didn’t help that it echo around desolate wastes, causing Arcade to stare up from his book, one of the only ones still awake and stare at the wheezing blushing bullet victim and the red faced sniper, looking disheveled as all hell. I swear I could see his eyes widen from behind my tears before returning to his book. As I slowly caught my breath I looked back at Craig, fingers curling around a rock and playing with it awkwardly. “Well I mean... that was the closest i’ve gotten to fucking a guy... uh was it good for you?” I asked to which Craig burst out in what I could only describe as a bark of a laugh. A single syllable ‘HA’ that rang through out the air, startling me, Arcade, and everyone in the 5 mile radius.  Boone put a hand to his mouth, smirking and shaking his head as he tried to straighten his face to his normal smolder. I stared, eyes wide as I scooted farther away. “Craig did you get shot? The hell was that?” “...nothing.” He muttered, face growing stern. “Or was it a laugh? Did you laugh? Your laugh is a fucking shotgun sound??” I hissed, putting my hands on my head “Jesus fucking Christ Craig! Scared the shit out of me.” “Stop.” I watched him and stopped, rubbing my arm and smirking a little bit. “It was... nice to hear it though. Even if you woke up the entire camp.” I chuckled moving closer to him and smiling. “You might need to apologize to some of the others, thought they were getting attacked.” I could see the cracks of his mouth began to wobble, threatening to smile and maybe even burst out in another laugh. The small look on his face, of joy, of amusement. It warmed my heart and in my stupor I muttered a soft, “Damn... I love you.” Boone stopped, growing stone cold immediately and turning to the ground.  I had confessed to him once before, and he knew it. Everyone else basically knew how much I fawned over the strange man.  But still the words seemed as new as the day I first said them. I looked away as well, not wanting to even look at Boone due to my idiotic confession of love. “I... I should sleep. I’m not... thinking straight.” I whispered, starting to get up, only to be pulled back down to the rocks, a warm pair of lips pressing against my own. My eyes were wide open, seeing Boone embracing me before slowly pulling away, watching his eyes opening from behind his glasses. He looked calm, collected, content. Something I had only wished for and dreamed. “...Shit...”  “You... should sleep. I’ll take guard.” He stuttered, arms beginning to cross as he cleared his throat. “Don’t think so much about this.” “I don’t think I can... what... what was that?” “...A kiss.” “Well... YEAH. But... why?” “I uh... don’t know. I think I like you back. Lo..Lo-ve.” He growled, like the word was foreign to him. In honesty, he probably hadn’t even thought of that word in that long since Carla. I felt my heart burst, fill with joy and butterflies as I stumbled a bit on my feet, smiling like a chem junkie on the wildest ride. “Heh... w..well. That’s cool cause I like you... too I just told you. That’s... why you... uh... did that I uh... I think my brain is... not working so i’m... gonna go... lie down before I have a stroke. Uh... n...night Craig.”  “...Night Jenna.”  I slowly stumbled over to my tent, looking to Arcade who peered up from his book again, a bit concerned at my wavering pace before giving him the widest smile in the world and gave him a little heart bursting out of my chest gesture before nudging my head back at Boone. “Hehhe.... he likes me... gave me a smooch.” Arcade stood up, chair falling to the ground as he let out a hushed “NO? Really? Is that why your bleeding?” “Bleeding why-” I paused before putting my hand to my face  and seeing my nose was running with blood which usually happened during high stress situations ever since Benny showed me Maria back in Goodsprings. I guess a high enough heart rate would make the dam burst just as good as running from a deathclaw.  “Ah... probably. uh... I might also faint so maybe... catch me.”  I laughed, as stars begin to fill my vision again, the last thing I saw was Arcade rushing towards me, a smile on my face and the soft echo of “idiot-” As I fell into darkness.

[miraimisu]

I'm too sober for this with Lona from the dialogue prompt list? Only if you want of course :3

—

Gladion knows full well he should have never come to this party. He’s not even a party person, not to mention that he’s not here out of his own volition per se. Lillie had tickled him right where it hurt when she mentioned Moon would be coming– and he knows that Moon herself isn’t that fond of university parties either.

She likes small meetings with a few friends. She’s as fond of their tight circle of friends as he is, but sometimes, Moon likes to show off her social skills and meander around to find a victim to target with her bad jokes and wonderful personality.

What Lillie hadn’t mentioned – maybe on purpose, maybe not – was that Ilima would be coming, too.

It’s not like Gladion loathes Ilima. He’s an outstanding student, an aspiring lawyer, a charming man with that tilt to his words that could make a rock swoon. He’s had approximately half of the campus under his arm and blankets, and luckily for Gladion, Moon hadn’t met that destiny yet.

Yet.

Hau strides close from a side. There’s a slight wobble to his step. “If you keep lookin’ at Moon like that, you’re gonna burn her to the ground, man.”

Gladion takes a sip of his non-alcoholic drink. His nose is filled with about ten different drinks with varying degrees of intoxicating properties. “Ilima is around her like a snake.”

Hau blinks at him like nothing’s wrong with that statement.; if anything, it looks like something is wrong with Gladion himself. “So?”

“Ilima is a flirt.”

“And you ain’t Moon’s man, dude.” 

And it’s true. 

But Hau doesn’t know the many complications under that umbrella statement, so Gladion swallows a response down with his soda. Hau continues talking, an eye arched at Gladion’s lack of a comeback. “Did I miss anything between you two?”

“Anything worth mentioning.” That’s a lie he manages to get away with, inexplicably. “We have classes tomorrow. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Gladion stalks away from the common room to the small fridge installed at the corner, and Hau follows close behind, sporting a grin too wide to not be suspecting. “And I guess that Ilima fluttering around your crush ain’t got a thing to do with that, eh?”

Gladion wishes he could pull up a façade and lie.

He glances at Moon; she’s laughing at something Ilima has just said and he’s about done with everything.

He swallows a careful sigh.

Gladion isn’t prone to possessive tendencies, but he has a very particular dynamic with Moon that he’s very fond of. Secret movie nights at this very common room, alone and buried under blankets where they’d end up in each other’s arms without noticing. Nights of binging series on Rotom TV, commenting movies with soft laughter and mild banter. Sometimes, he had kissed her forehead and she had pecked his cheek.

In the blurs of dreams after gentle nights and loving embraces, Gladion had dreamed of her in his arms where they were more than friends, his crush on her no longer under control. They had met nearly 3 years ago and he’s sure he’s had some itty bitty feelings since shortly after their first meeting. Moon is hard not to fall for.

And now she’s hanging out with Ilima, who is smiling at her like she’s holding the sun in her hands, and tucking a strand of hair behind her hair.

The hand that was reaching for another can of soda suddenly wrangles to grab the last can of beer on in the fridge. He makes quick work of the tin opening and takes a thick gulp.

Hau chuckles. “Ilima’s always been a tease. Don’t get so worked up over it, dude.”

Gladion idly flicks the little tin chip, seeking a distraction that won’t be a brainsore like Hau is. “It’s much more complicated than saying that Moon and I are just friends, Hau.”

As simple-minded as he is, the other cocks his head to the side. “Then why don’t you just work it out, my dude? What’s holding you back?”

Looking at him, Gladion realizes that Moon’s dorm stands a few feet away from them, properly locked. It’s a place where they would sometimes cuddle to have deep conversations, a bed where they had sometimes slept on, a place where they once almost–

“I’m too sober for this conversation,” mutters Gladion, taking another swig while he swears he hears Moon laugh in the distance, a noise he’s learned to pick up in the muddled chatter of the crowd, a presence he hasn’t had near all night–

Hau is about to say another word, but Gladion sharply turns around and shuffles into the crowd, wondering if there’s another fridge with drinks somewhere on the floor.

—

When the party’s over and everybody has gone home, Gladion finds himself stumbling through the empty corridor of the building, slightly dazed. There are plastic cups carefully piled inside a plastic bag and snacks that have been forgotten on the countertops of the corridor. There are a few tissues on the floor, as well as a few coins that people must have dropped while dancing.

The common room is hauntingly empty, too. Long gone are the loud music and the overpowering crowds: the couches are empty, the TV is off and all that remains are the plates with crumbs of food and a few bottles of vodka and rum. 

The music and the ambiance of it all has left him light-headed and slightly scarred: he can still hear the music booming within his brain when silence takes over.

And then there’s Moon, throwing food into a plastic bag and shaking her head at the amount of trash that nobody but her has bothered to pick up. Leave it up to her to do the work that other people should be doing.

“Want some help?”

Moon’s back stiffens at his words, and she turns around like there’s a sniper aiming at her. The surprise soon wears off as she realizes it’s him, sighing with a smile. “There you are. I thought you would’ve gone to your dorm.”

In all fairness, he should be going to sleep instead of lingering around his crush, who probably isn’t interested in the way he is and holy shit he didn’t drink enough for this.

“I thought I’d take a small detour.” 

He can’t materialize any excuse into existence, so he remains quiet in hopes Moon is tired enough to think nothing of it.

His wishes come true and she giggles. “I’m glad to see you. There were so many people around I barely got to see you. I wished I had danced with you a little.”

“You know I don’t dance,” he admits with a chuckle, remembering the many times he had seen her dance to the songs of the radio and the many times he had refused to follow her steps– and then something else comes up. “And you, um, looked busy.”

Confusion flickers in her eyes, frowning softly. “Busy? I don’t recall being busy.”

“You were talking to Ilima all night.” The bitterness in that sentence is so evident he’s not sure how to follow it up without sounding jealous. “I didn’t think it would be polite to intrude.”

There were about a thousand ways to get out of that situation and he took none of them.

Instead of moving, Gladion remains there, rooted to the ground as he sees many emotions phase through her eyes. She carefully drops the bag, looking at him with wide eyes. He stands behind the red couch of the common room and she walks towards it, digging her knee on the cushion as she studies him.

The couch is the only thing standing between them and it still feels like she’s an inch away. She’s a few good inches smaller than him but damn he feels small. 

Her eyes narrow, lip bitten in thought. “Don’t you get along with Ilima?”

It’s not about that but he decides to let her think that’s the issue. “I guess I do, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“I respect him much more when he’s not fluttering around you like a crocodile.”

The way her eyes widen is worth a thousand dollars. It’s hard to make Moon pull a reaction that vivid and while Gladion is proud of himself for that feat, he’s also very aware that Moon has caught the pang of jealousy in that admission. 

Gladion gulps down the desire to run away and shoves his hands into his pockets. Moon leans forward until her hands are on top of the back of the sofa. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She’s giving him one last chance to step away from the lagoon and not wade through the mess, yet he jumps headfirst into the muddy waters.

“Ilima is always, um, hanging out with girls. I’ve heard he takes a pair to his room each week– and not to precisely study.” Moon’s eyebrows disappear under her side-swept fringe. “I didn’t want him to woo you too. I know you’re not like that but you never know. I didn’t want him to hurt you. Whatever.”

It’s the whatever that betrays the lie and Moon remains quiet, yet moves to where her knees are on the couch and, out of the blue, she’s smiling at him and looping his arms around his shoulders.

“Were you that fretty about me hanging out with Ilima?”

“Define fretty.”

“I’ll give you a synonym: worried.” Gladion nods at this. “And I’d take the risk and say jealous, too, but I don’t wanna assume anything.”

His eyes widen at the conflict in her tone, as though she’s just as bashful about this thing between them as he is. It gives him hope that she feels the same, that maybe they could talk this out, that this is the night they will finally stop beating around the bush.

“I… I guess you’re not wrong per se,” her arms twitch around his shoulders as he says this. He looks to the side, ashamed of himself. “I know we’re not a thing and that I’m not entitled to feeling like this, and that you got all the right to hang out with Ilima, he’s not that bad, I just gotta get over myself and–”

Moon places a digit on his lips and any cohesive train of thought dies on the spot. After she’s sure she has his attention, a smile shows up, crooked at the side.

“Oh, Gladion,” she leans a little closer, shifting upward to reach him better, “did you think I was flirting with Ilima?”

At least she seems outwardly fine with his feelings. “I thought he was flirting with you and that he was going to sweep you away,” he says, clearly having drunk a little too much to retain his inhibitions. Moon’s proximity isn’t making things any easier. “I didn’t want him to take you away. I don’t like him for you.”

Her head tilts, her smirk growing. “You’ve definitely drunk tonight, haven’t you?”

“Just a little,” he admits, curling his arms around her with a dry sigh.

“Then do tell me,” she whispers, only loud enough for him to hear. “What made you think anyone would take me away from you when you’re the only one I’d ever consider, you idiot?”

His heart stills as Gladion’s ever so analytical mind picks apart her words, puts them in order and lets them soak.

And next thing he knows, she’s grabbing his hair and he’s pulling at her shirt as they kiss, crashing their lips in desperation and pent-up frustration. They breathe in heavily and moan out slowly, kissing like they don’t have enough and like they need a taste of each other to survive. Each pull of her hand on his hair feels like nirvana; he never thought kissing her would be this wild and primarily exciting.

He dips her back a little in eagerness, kissing her hungrily, nipping at her bottom lip and brushing his tongue against hers with a sigh of relief, dipping his hands under the divide of her shirt, shifting upwards–

Moon abruptly breaks the kiss. Gladion becomes aware that the top buttons of his shirt have been snapped open and that her hands are exploring the exposed skin. “I guess I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this, huh.”

Her voice is ragged and breathy. It sounds just right. His is husky with impatience. “I’ve been waiting for more than a year. Maybe more than two.”

Moon’s laughter jingles through the empty corridors. “What a coincidence: so have I.”

Gladion can’t help but tackle her to the sofa after that.

—

[shadowsof-thenight]

Hiding

Summary: Neither one of us thought this mission would hold any danger. Then it all went wrong and Bucky and I needed to find ourselves a place to hide.

Ship: Bucky Barnes x Reader  Warninigs: a tiny bit of angst nothing more. 

Words: 2755

A/N: As you can see I couldn’t wait. I wrote this in one go a little over an hour ago, and did no editing, forgive me any mistakes. Feel free to point them out, so I can fix them. 

“Shit” a voice said through my earpiece and I chuckled. The word had been spoken in an incredibly soft tone, though the frustration was still evident. Usually there would be an explanation, why the silence had been broken. Often something as simple as; I nearly slipped, or, thought I was seen. Now the word was followed by an ominous silence that erased the smile from my lips. I glanced back at the large quiet soldier behind me, he shrugged his shoulders, while his eyebrows were raised. He didn’t know what was happening either. In the distance shuffling could be heard, but no more words were shared over the communication system in our ears. A chill went up my spine as I could do nothing but wait for the silence to be broken once more. 

It wasn’t until shots were fired and a roaring fire seemed to light up the night, that we knew something was wrong. 

The mission had been simple, or it was supposed to be at least, a simple surveillance. Though as soon as we’d arrived we knew there would be a change in plans. Sam quickly made the call, we’d have to go in. Or some of us would, to liberate the hostages that were brought in on our first night of surveilling. The sight was supposed to have been nothing more than a storage facility. We would see what they were storing, before taking action. When it became clear that the cargo they stored were people, we had to act quickly. 

Which was why Scott had gone in, while we radioed the base for back-up. Sam would stay close, just in case Scott needed help, Bruce was sent back to the plane, to create a quick get-away. And Bucky and I were perched on a hill, sniper position to safely guard their departure. 

After the initial shots, Sam called out over the comms that it had been a trap. Scott was injured and they were going to the plane. I knew there would be no time for us to reach the plane as well. We told them to go, we’d wait for the back up. The most important thing right now was to get Scott the help he needed. It wasn’t clear just how bad his injuries were. 

And we were hidden from the storage facility, so we decided that we would be fine. 

That was before they found our hiding place.

Now we had been running non-stop for nearly thirty minutes and my body was screaming at me to stop. I really wasn’t made for this, I thought as I felt sweat gather underneath my suit, while Bucky seemed entirely unaffected by the endurance run. He kept pace with me, though I knew he could easily go much faster. Super soldier and all. Still he’d never abandon his team, I knew that. 

There was a small town up ahead that we needed to reach. There, safety would surely loom over us, with plenty of buildings to hide in. Except, it was so far away and I was running out of breath. 

My sides were burning and I could barely place one foot in front of the other anymore. I was a sniper. Usually far away from the action. Athletically speaking, I was a sprinter, not a marathoner. I was quick. A burst of energy. Nothing more. Though I now knew that I would have to start training for that as soon as we got back to the compound. If we got out of this jam that was. 

“Just go” I finally told Bucky, not wanting him to get caught because of me. He was already carrying my riffle and my bag. Still I was slowing him down. Bucky had scoffed at my suggestion though and grabbed my hand, pulling me along behind him. It was good, I didn’t have to pay much attention on where we were going, I could simply follow him. That way I could put all my attention on my feet.

Left, right, duck, stairs, jump. Bucky gave short instructions as he led me into town. We couldn’t stay on the edge, we’d be found far too quickly.  

The streets were deserted, it was the middle of the night and though people would have covered us, it would have also slowed us down even more than I was doing to him. Weaving through throngs of people was tricky. 

By now, I lost all ability to speak, so I squeezed his hand, hoping to signal him that I really couldn’t go any further. That was when he suddenly tugged on my arm hard, making me stumble into his arms, before he close a door behind us. The space was incredibly small, no more than a broom closet. But it was good enough. 

Placing a hand over my mouth, I tried to slow down my breathing quickly. Sweat was rolling down my face and back, the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail sticking to my face and my heart was still beating out of my chest. Bucky gently rubbed my back, trying to help me calm down. If I kept breathing like this, they were sure to hear me through that door. It was a simple door, more akin to cardboard than reinforced steel after all. 

Of course we hoped that they had missed which building we entered, but there was no way to be certain. Not yet anyway. Bucky moved around me to turn off my comms and doing the same to his own, any sound could betray our location, and I leaned into him heavily. 

When I stopped gasping for air, Bucky offered me his bottle and I took a quick swig off the cool water, feeling it going down my sore throat. I smiled at him, still leaning on him, while his back leaned against the far wall. Though far was a big word for the distance it held with the door.

The only reason I was not touching the door, was because I was so close to Bucky. Any distance between us, could only be accomplished by pressing myself against that door. And while a wall would absorb some sounds, a door certainly wouldn’t. 

Footsteps could be heard in the distance and with wide eyes I pressed my head against his shoulder, afraid my breathing could still be heard in the hallway. No matter how much is had slowed, it was still rather ragged and faster than usual. Bucky wrapped an arm around me, his metal hand covering the back of my head and I knew he was attempting to shield it from any incoming bullets. That was Bucky, always thinking two steps ahead, running all possible scenarios through, before anyone else had even grasped what was happening. 

I wrapped my arms around his torso, bracing myself. And perhaps allowing myself to find comfort in his strong arms and calming scent. I had always found his scent alluring, though I never did let him know this. Our time in this closet just gave me time to really drink it in. He smelled of lemon, probably his shower gel, a metallic undertone due to his arm and something earthy underneath it all. The scent was even better when he was wearing his old leather jacket. Though this tactical suit wasn’t bad either. There was also a slight sour undertone to the smells in the room, though I was certain it was my own sweat and not his. He didn’t appear to be running hot. 

I immediately felt dirty, but there was nothing to do about that now. Instead, I tried to push it from my mind. I could not hide it from his enhanced sense of smell. I just hoped that the rich and sweet scent of my shampoo still dominated. 

The footsteps in the hall got louder as they came closer. It sounded like a horde of men that ran through the hallway. Luckily they seemed to run right past us. Still we dared not leave the small space, not yet. We had not heard any sounds of fighting, so our back up must not have arrived just yet. And so we remained completely still for as long as possible, hardly even daring to breath. 

With my heart beating slower again, my breathing had returned to normal, soothing my aching throat a little. The stinging in my sides had dissipated and my legs had stopped shaking from the strain. Soon enough I would be ready to fight again. Not yet though, I hoped we would get a lengthier reprieve. If we were found this instant, Bucky would not be able to really depend on me. That wasn’t something I ever wanted him to experience. 

It had taken him long enough to start trusting everyone. I really wanted to keep that trust. 

Calm now, I began to really take in our surroundings. There were chemicals everywhere, stacked neatly in a simple metallic frame, we could use those in a fight if need be. There wasn’t much else, luckily or we would not have fit in here. 

At the same time I became very aware of the body pressed against mine. His strong flesh arm around my waist, as his metal one still shielded my head and neck. I could feel his heart beat evenly against my breasts as they were squashed against him. His strong thighs were pressing against my own, and I wondered what if would feel like to have one between my thighs. 

Though I had never told anyone, I was sure people had noticed my crush on the soldier. Except him. He seemed oblivious. Not just with me though, with other women as well. Some had practically thrown themselves at him and he had been blind to it. He didn’t seem to recognise flirting. Had it been too long? Or was he just not ready for it? I didn’t know. I just knew that I would give him distance for as long as he needed it. And even then I wasn’t sure I would ever confess to my crush. And by distance, I of course meant the metaphorical kind since the literal kind was hard to find in this particular moment. 

The warmth of his body was seeping through my tactical gear, making it harder to ignore his impressive presence. It took quite some self control to keep my hand splayed on his back, frozen, instead of roaming over his powerful muscles. I’d never been this close to him. Only in my dreams had that happened. I wanted to bask in it, as inappropriate as it was. I wanted to hold him close and show him just what effect he had on me. 

But I didn’t. 

Instead I tried to listen for more footsteps. There was nothing. The entire building seemed to be silent now. The horde of men could not be heard on the floors above or below them either. There was only silence and darkness in their little hideout. 

“I think they left” Bucky whispered, his lips very close to my ear. His breath fanned over it, causing a flutter in my stomach. Silently I berated myself, telling myself to keep it together, before I looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since we hid away.

His breathtaking, brilliant blue eyes stared back into mine, and for a moment words died on their way out of my mouth. Though the darkness seemed to swallow of the electric blue of his eyes, I had not problem imagining them. They were engraved in my brain and I would never forget how they looked. 

I forgot what I was going to say. He was really close, his breath now fanning my face, his lips only inches away from mine. It would be so easy to lean forward and brush them, to move my lips over his mouth. To taste him. 

Of course that couldn’t happen, so I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, shaking those thoughts from my mind.

“Should we leave?” I breathed out, my voice squeaky and louder than intended. Bucky pressed a finger to his mouth, shushing me. 

My eyes were now drawn to his mouth and my breath hitched. Now that he must have noticed. It took me a moment to look back up to his eyes again, a blush creeping on my face. He smiled, or was it a smirk. My current state of mind made it difficult to determine. 

And I was just about ready to reach for the door and face whatever was on the other side of it, just to avoid my own embarrassment. 

Then his finger moved away from his mouth, his hand cupped my cheek and his thumb moved over my lips instead. My heart skipped a beat as I followed his movements and a little confused I looked back up to his eyes. What was he doing?

Before I could say anything, he leaned down, pressing his beautiful soft lips on mine, effectively taking my breath away completely. When he pulled back, I tried to withhold the whimper that was threatening to leave me mouth. Instinctively I reach up, my lips trailing his, stopping just before I touched them. What was happening? Did he really want this? 

His hand still cupped my cheek, while I pulled one of my hands from his back to touch my own lips. It felt like electricity had run through me. In a good way, a very good way. I could not keep a smile from forming on my mouth as I looked at his face again and found him smiling back at me. 

Taking a chance, I moved, kissing him softly, moving my lips over his gently, allowing him the room to move away from me. He didn’t. 

Both his arms were now suddenly around my waist, holding me even closer to him as he kissed back, teeth grazing my lips as his tongue asked for entrance. Something I was all too happy to grant. My hands roamed the muscles in his back as we explored the others mouth with our tongues. One of his hands moved to my ass and squeezed, before pushing me up slightly, his thigh now between my legs. 

The world around us seemingly stopped existing as we kissed, forgetting where we were, forgetting who we were even. Nothing else mattered than the feel of his lips on mine and his hands exploring my body, holding me close to him. 

A soft moan escaped my mouth, making his groan and his lips moved to my neck, licking, sucking and kissing it. Moving my head to the side, to give him better access, another moan escaped. 

He turned us around, pushing my up against the wall, grinding into me, as his teeth grazed my collarbone. I squeezed his bottom, my core heating up rapidly and I wanted to feel more of him, so I wrapped my legs around him, just beneath his impressive buttocks.

That was when light suddenly flooded us, momentarily blinding us, as the door to the closet was pulled open. Shocked we stopped moving, and I slid my legs down until I was standing on my own two feet. Bucky moved his head up straight, his eyes wide as he tried to assess the situation that was now behind him. 

I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights, until the first sound that reached us was the loud laughter of Steve Rogers. A deep shade of red covered my cheeks, as Bucky whipped around to the offending sound. Neither one of us said a word. 

“Found them” Steve said into his comm and stepped aside, dramatically bowing and waving his arm, to let us out of the closet. How whole body was still shaking with laughter as we stepped into the brightly lit hallway. 

The three of us were the only people in said hallways, much to my relief. Though I did not think this would remain between the three of us. Steve was a little shit after all, he would be only too happy to embarrass us in front of the others. Especially with Sam and Nat. 

Still, I felt no regrets as Bucky took my hand in his and we began to walk towards the exit of the building and followed Steve to the location of the jet. No regrets at all, and if Bucky’s massive smile was any indication, neither did he. 

[uncannydanny666]

Tell us about your guardians!

THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A LONG TIME COMING! I’m so so so so sorry! I started writing this but, you know me!, I take forever at everything and this kinda just got swallowed up in my drafts until I found it this morning.

Anyway,, here it is! Thank you so much for asking about my nerdy OCs, you’re literally an angel! ❤️

First off Zaya! She was the first oc I ever made and the first character I ever created when I first played D1. She’s a Voidwalker and a big time badass with a huge heart. She’s got a Ghost named Nyx who is her best friend who is super over protective of her. She was engaged to my oc Jaxx (who I will talk about in a bit) but when he got rebooted they fell apart. She then went on to be in quite the serious relationship with my other oc Uriah, but when she got busy with defending the Awoken and the Dreaming City they also called things off. Currently she’s got something going on with the Drifter 👀

She’s a Guardian down to the bone, and no matter how much her personal life and relationships get afflicted, she will never stop fighting for the City.

She’s also a big nerd and reads way too much and is a really good singer and snorts when she laughs and I love the fuck out of her ❤️

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This is my boy Jaxx-0. He is my tol and strong and only Sunbreaker Exo boy and he’s handsome as hell. He’s a huge flirt and big time™️ playboy, but he’s a super sweet and amazing guy. He’s got a Ghost names Phoebe who is super affectionate and super sassy.

He used to be engaged to Zaya and was like a brother to Nirgal, but because of an accident on the Dreadnaught he ended up getting rebooted and lost all memories of their friendship and his past life.

Jaxx-1 is actually very different. He’s actually really shy and pretty quiet, a bit awkward around people too. Jaxx-0 used to be a Crucibke celebrity so he often gets recognized by Guardians and non Guardians alike. It’s always awkward having to explain that he isn’t the Jaxx he once was tho. And although he struggles a bit with his identity his Ghost is more than happy to help 💕

He’s also really gay for Shiro-4

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Next up is Nirgal Rodriguez. My super cute, super Latino boy, and my only Hunter oc. He’s a Gunslinger/Nightstalker and is quite impressive with a sniper rifle. He’s best friends with Jaxx-0 and adopted a bit of Jaxx’s playboy personality. He’s cute, and witty, and charming, and flirty, but he’s also one of the most loyal and honest people you will ever meet.

Nirgal suffers from ADHD and is one of the most forgetful people in the Tower, which makes him ever so thankful for having a Ghost like Ray. Ray is practically his parent, always reminding him of upcoming matches and missions and always telling him to be careful during fights.

He’s a bit of a goofball and can be pretty reckless most of the time during missions and in the Crucible, but he’s still an incredibly skilled Guardian.

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Next oc is Akira Agah-Mota. I never actually made a character in game for her or her twin brother (who I will introduce next) so all I can offer is a face claim of her I use for roleplaying. Anyway,

Akira Agah-Mota. She is a Stormcaller Warlock and the daughter of Hunters Sai Mota and Omar Agah (both part of Eris’ fireteam)(and yes, I took extreme liberties lore-wise when it came to these two).

Akira is brutally honest, lacking any sort of filter which can sometimes get her into trouble. But it’s nothing her Ghost Obi can’t help out with. Family means everything to her – the only reason she ever became a Guardian in the first place was to avenge her dead parents– so she’ll be damned if anything ever happens to her brother. She tries really hard to be cool and come off as a cool bitch™️but she’s actually a huge dork and actually quite shy and awkward when it comes to approaching others. This can be observed with her many failed attempts at trying to ask Suraya Hawkthorne out on a date.

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Another oc who I haven’t created in game. His name is Kasei Agah-Mota, he’s Akira’s twin sister and he is a Striker Titan.

The sweetest, kindest, most selfless person you will ever meet. Definitely the mom friend of his fireteam. He’s always willing to help you no matter what and he always puts the needs of others before his own. He’s also really, really smart. Most people are surprised when they find out he’s a Titan, not a Warlock.

He didn’t meet his Ghost at an early age like his sister did so he put aside his dream of becoming a Guardian to be an engineer instead. That’s how he met his now husband Deon. When he finally did get his Ghost though he went straight to training.

After the Red War they both settled down in the City and are raising a beautiful daughter named Leia.

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My pretty Awoken boy Deon!

Deon is a jock down to the bone. Athletic, competitive, and ripped as fuck 👀

He was revived by a enthusiastic little Ghost named Yvette just outside the City Walls. The only problem was that he was only five years old when he was revived. So once they both reached the Tower safely he was taking in by Zavala who raised him as his own. And let me tell you, Deon is definitely Zavala’s son.

Commanding, authoritative, a leader. He can walk into a room and demand the attention of everyone without saying a word. It makes him a wonderful Guardian.

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And last but not least, Uriah! Yet another oc I never actually made in Destiny but he literally looks like Tom Hardy so,, 🤷🏽‍♀️ enjoy the view 👀

Uriah is a Sunsinger (I refuse to admit a shitty subclass like Dawnblade replaced the magnificence that Sunsinger is), and if you haven’t noticed he’s really cute 💕

He was revived by his Ghost Jarvis and they became really close really fast. But Uri is actually a huge pacifist and doesn’t want to be a Guardian at all. After the whole Traveler, Light vs. Dark, Ghosts and Guardians situation was exained to him, he wanted nothing to do with it. In his mind actively seeking out alien species in their homes and planets to murder them is terrorism. As long as the City is safe and no one is invading it, Guardians shouldn’t actively be seeking out war. So he sticks to the Crucible where the people he kills can actually come back.

He’s a huge dog person (he has four dogs) and a coffee addict as well. He’s a big dork and has literally read almost every book in the Warlock library at least once. So if you thought Lord Shaxx reciting The Tempest was impressive, wait until Uriah recites the entire Game of Thrones book series from memory.

[callie-the-snarky-geek-blog]

RvB16 Episode 4 Review: Sis and Tuc’s S**ellent Adventure

(Old Reblog Post. Also sorry for the censoring, I’m trying t be cautious right now.)

With a title like ‘Sis and Tuc’s S**cellent Adventure”, so I even need to write an introduction? That’s enough of a draw-in! So… yeah, lets just jump into it!

Overview

It’s been a day since the last episode and Tucker has recovered from the blow to his fragile male ego. He agrees to Sister’s plan on banging past people wanting a six-way with the Spice Girls. Sister points out that he’s setting himself too high and eventually it leads back to Tucker insisting that they banged. Sister expands on what she said last episode, about something happening that made them stop. I guess she thought about it more as she says that Tucker thought that someone was watching them and had stopped due to it. To get a clear answer, they decide to go back to Season 5 now that Sister has figured out how the portal gun works.

Back at The Battle of Broken Ridge, the… Red Army I guess? I assume it’s a Red vs Blue battle. Anyways, they’re all dead. Simmons tries to comfort Sarge after his failure to prevent their deaths… that he pretty much caused. And in the afterlife, Church is laughing cause now they are going through what he did. Sarge is upset and blames the failures… on his underlings idiocy. Of course. But is this going to deter Sarge from fixing the past? Hell no! He is going to create essentially a dream time like The Expendables… a movie I’ve never seen, but screw you Sarge! Harrison Ford makes everything better even if he isn’t necessary! Simmons is just left baffled and confused. You think he’d be used to this by now.

Back with Tucker and Sister, they make it back to Season 5 during the final fight with Wyoming. In order to not cause a paradox, they dodge behind rocks to not be seen… and wouldn’t you know it, Tucker finds a sniper rifle! I’m surprised he didn’t make a bigger deal over finally getting the thing (and… how did it get there? I need to rewatch Blood Gulch man). But with it, he spots he moment where past him was talking to Flowers… and I am still is confused on how he came back to life out of nowhere as I was when I watched Season 5. But we do get an explanation on how he died again. Remember the random bullet that show him down? Well turns out that Tucker’s finger was too close to the trigger and… well, you do the math. Seriously, Church must just be laughing his ass off int he afterlife right now. But Tucker knows when he fucks up and decides to stick to the sword.

We now check on Grif and Doc as Grif has figured out how the gun works now. Okay, so everyone knows how the things work, good. Grif, still wanting to avoid the plot, has sent them back to when he was in college and before he… got enlisted? Wait, I thought he was drafted… meh, maybe time has affected his memory or something. My proof? Well the restaurant is now a Calzone and Stormboli restaurant. Grif, confused, tries to ask some kids what the fuck is happening. Also it’s Halloween so that we can justify them wearing Halo armor despite being kids! Ah, you gotta love those kinds of things!

So… as it turns out… Grif and Doc ended up in a timeline where pizza does not exist. Let me repeat that: Pizza does NOT exist… WHAT KIND OF SICK TIMELINE IS THAT?! Grif yells at children before the fact sinks in and… he decides to grenade himself. Sheesh dude, I knwo that a world without pizza is just sick and wrong, but there’s other Italian dishes to consider! Luckily Doc knows the grenade away, saving Grif’s life for the second time… okay I forgive him for last season now. Cause someone needs to take care of Grif while Simmons isn’t there and Doc is fulfilling that, damn it! Doc is able to convince Grif to instead try and cause the invention of pizza to fix it… after trying to convinced him to use it for the greater good. Someone needs to one day explain to Doc what show he’s in, I don’t think he ever figured it out.

Back in Season 5, Sister now has the sniper rifle and they’re now waiting for the ship with Tex, Junior, and Andy to blow up. Tucker uses the time to ash Sister why she tagged along to begin with. Sister explains how, while the convention business has been going well, her personal life has gotten fucked up. TO put it simply, she got involved with a person working with her… who was married to the head of HR. So… yeah that’s a bit of a clusterfuck if there ever was one. She wishes that things could go back to being silly and fun like it used to be, a sentiment that Tucker can relate to. Back in Blood Gulch, it felt like that nothing really mattered and there weren’t really consequences. No? Wash got injured due to his poor leadership and he’s got a lawsuit on him for who knows how many child support payments. It’s… a rather nice, reflective heart-to-heart. We also learn that Tucker’s mother is dead… that’s a bummer.

So the ship explodes, everyone kind of went to do their own thing, and past!Tucker took past!Sister to the caves to shoe her  ‘surprise’. Turns out that Blood Gulch has a lake in the canyon… didn’t know that. Past!Tucker is trying to, of course, initiate having hanky panky time with Sister (and I imagine past!Grif having a ‘I sense a disturbance in the Force’ moment) and… he is awkward and stammering as Hell. It’s kinda cute… I’m gonna laugh at him anyways! HAHAHA! Fortunately past!Sister is more than capable of taking the initiative and it looks like they were indeed going to have see. ALl as their future selves watch in secret. Sister, having a moment of weakness, asks if Tucker wants to go ahead and bang with Tucker… getting too excited and causing last him to hear him. They don’t get caught and cause a paradox thankfully, but it’s enough to cause past!Tucker to call hanky panky time off. So… Tucker totally cockblocked himself… twice… with the same girl… wooooow.

Sister is of course annoyed as they return to Valhalla as well as disappointed in herself for almost banging with Tucker. But hey, she gets a new idea… to go back and bang her past self! No! Sister, selfcest leads to bad things! She goes off and if they had animated this scene, I imagine that Tucker would be kicking himself right now. Literally. But hey, you came close buddy.

Review

This was a laugh riot, OMG. Before we get to the main event, lets talk about the other pairs.

There’s not a lot to say about Sarge and Simmons really. As expected, Sarge caused his own problem and fails to recognize it. IDK if him saying that he’s going to recruit others is going to go anywhere, but it was there. I did like how Simmons was concerned about Sarge’s state after and him continuing to be a dork with having a log (but… it was a science log here and last time it was a star log… does Simmons keep multiple logs?! NERD!) Him just being completely and utterly baffled at how Sarge could jump to the conclusion he made was also hilarious, especially him just weakly returning the ‘hoorahs’. IDK why the mental image of Gus recording that crack me up… but it cracks me up.

There’s a bit more to talk about with Grif and Doc. First, addressing the brief continuity error about Grif claiming to be enlisted. Now him dropping out of college? I can buy that. But in the Fan Guide and I’m fairly sure that Geoff himself said it before, Grif was drafted. Then again he did claim that he signed up willingly back int he very first episode, so… IDK. It’s not that big a deal and it can easily be hand-waved as him just saying that so Doc won’t question him about it or with pizza no longer existing, maybe he did enlist due to time screwing up and his memory adjusted accordingly. So ultimately, unless this is important later and IDT it will be, it’s not that big a deal.

So we continue to see Grif ignoring the problem and trying to get back to the pizza quest. To Doc’s credit, he is trying to get Grif to focus on it, but this being Doc he can’t really force it and IDT hes going to unleash O’Malley if he can help it. Grif yelling at children (and one I’m fairly sure is voiced by Lindsay? Or at least one sounded like Space Kid) about pizza’s existence also had me about ready to burst a guy. I imagine that Geoff blew his voice out after that, but his sacrifice is appreciate if that is the case. Plus hey, he NAILED it. Seriously, sidetracking, but the voice acting has been perfection so far. But yeah, I assume that something is going to happen to force Grif into facing the problem moreso than the others (I imagine whenever they discover Huggins… where is she BTW?) and I worry that since he’s kept Grif from getting killed twice now, something might happen to Doc… but we’ll see!

Okay, onto the main event! The entire S**cellent adventure was a laugh riot, OMG. Honestly just having Sister have some prominent screentime after so long was SO nice. I am loving how Joe is handling her this season. Her and Tucker’s banter was perfection. Them going form bickering to flirting is just hilarious and I am loving it. I wasn’t sure what to expect from them aside form flirting, and so far having the two most horny characters on the show together has been incredibly entertaining.

Their heart to heart was really nice as well. Sister definitely screwed up as far as her personal life is concerned, which makes her wanting to go back to before then understandable. Tucker being able to relate with what happened in S15 when his choices came back to bit him in the ass was also really nice. Especially as he reflects how back during Blood Gulch, it didn’t seem like he had to care. Regardless of what happened, there weren’t any long-term consequences. I’d have to rewatch Blood Gulch to see how much of that is true, but for the most part he’s correct. Back then you could be as stupid as you wanted and it would work out. Even death wasn’t a big deal. Now? Well… it is. It’s not like how it was back then, and seeing Tucker reflect on that was a really good moment for him.

What else can I say? Ugh… well it ended how I expected. The second I saw the title of this episode, I immideatly went ‘they’re gonna go back to find out about the sex thing and it end sup Tucker messed it up, aren’t they?” And I was right! Yay! I didn’t see Sister deciding to indulge in selfcest coming and tbh Tucker handled the revelation better than I thought he would, but still it went as i expected. But at least we have conformation: Tucker and Sister almost did sex, but Tucker thwarted himself. Ain’t that a bitch?

Final Thoughts

This one is definitely meant to be purely a comedic episode. Which is fine since it was hilarious. Tucker and Sister’s back and forths had me giggling and Grif’s mental breakdown at pizza no longer existing had me in stitches. It was good! My only real complaint is I’d have liked some more plot, but I guess it’s better to get the funny time travel antics out of the way first before going forward. Plus hey, it was still funny, so why complain? Overall, that was indeed a s**cellent adventure.

[jeminy3]

FIRESIDE - Chapter 2

2. there's all these secrets that I can't keep.

like in my heart there's that hotel suite

and you lived there so long

it's kinda strange, now you're gone

There's not enough stuff exploring how exactly each member of Team Mustang got their positions under him, so I had an idea and ran with it.

WARNINGS: war and death mentions, fatalistic talk/thinking, threats

Read on AO3

Read on Google Docs

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

- Roughly 8 years ago -

Jean Havoc always thought of himself and his life in one word: simple.

A simple boy from a simple town, born to simple shopkeepers, making a simple living at whatever he was good at. Which was helping out in the family business at first, but after hitting hard times as simple families tend to do, he drafted himself and became a soldier. And for that, there were really only three things you had to be good at: fighting, following orders, and giving them.

He grew into a simple man with simple desires: fight some wars, get a girl, settle down, have some kids, and live a good, simple life like his parents did.

So he was a bit surprised when his humble contingent was selected to serve in East Headquarters under a newly-promoted Lieutenant Colonel by the name of Roy Mustang. He could call it good fortune, but he'd rather blame it on this new commander being shockingly young for the position (barely in his mid-twenties, like Havoc himself), so he probably didn't know any better.

...But maybe he did, since he was also the famed Flame Alchemist and, as the military called him, "The Hero of Ishval."

Havoc and his men were at the very outskirts of the Ishvalan Civil War, but they all heard the stories - awful, terrible stories. After spending enough years in the service, you get sort of numb to stuff like this, but Ishval was an exception in just how... grisly the whole thing was from beginning to end. An entire subset of Amestrian civilians all but wiped from the face of the earth completely, just for trying to push back against unfair treatment from their own government.

Tensions had been rising since Havoc's parents were young, and maybe one could argue that both sides were guilty parties, but all Havoc was concerned about was the fallout. Hundreds dead, even more missing, many of them women, children, elders. In a word - innocents. People that the military were supposed to protect, last time he checked.

Havoc never said it out loud - not even to his own family - but any real, genuine pride he had in his country was gone at this point. He didn't sign up to serve a military that slaughtered innocent people like butchers, no matter how they tried to justify it.

Something needed to change, and fast, before anything worse happens - but alas, if only he were a smarter man. Right now, Havoc was merely the Corporal of a small group of soldiers, and any hopes of making earth-shattering changes to make his country a righteous place again were far-away dreams. But a dream's a dream, he supposes.

He holds onto that hope, small as it is, as he stands abreast his team in East Headquarters' courtyard, all equally tense as Mustang approaches them. They all knew the gist of what this so-called "Hero" did to earn his title and rank, so none of them were particularly looking forward to meeting him - especially not Havoc.

He certainly looks the part, Havoc thinks, as Mustang inspects his contingent one by one. He stands tall and firm, as intimidating a presence as any old General. Especially with his face - stony and expressionless, no doubt hardened by the slaughter he'd participated in.

He won't be broken, Havoc thinks, as Mustang curtly announces the end of his inspection for all to hear. He's made it this far, this hotshot new commander won't scare him. ...Even if he could turn him and his men into cinders with a snap of his fingers, supposedly. He's not nervous...

...Well, just a little bit.

He resists the urge to swallow as Mustang stops in front of him, holds his gaze for a moment, his dark eyes looking out between thin strands of black hair. Something smolders in them, a fire that's probably as black as his soul - piercing, burning, studying. Despite himself, Havoc feels a prickle of heat go up the nape of his neck.

And then, to his surprise, Mustang smiles. "You have good men here, Corporal Havoc," he says, warm and genuine.

Havoc blinks, stammers, but only for a moment. He quickly straightens himself and salutes. "Th- Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang, sir."

Mustang's smile widens slightly, softening his eyes. "Just Mustang or Lieutenant Colonel will do, Corporal."

Havoc blinks again. Huh... maybe he's not as scary as he first thought.

---

The next several months are relatively peaceful for Havoc and his men. Serving under Mustang, they find themselves usually sent out for small-time reconnaissance missions and general peacekeeping in the immediate area. It's odd, compared to what they're used to - most commanders are eager to send them out to fight in the nearest conflict, or as reinforcements for a bulwark or occupied town.

Nonetheless, Havoc finds it a relief and counts this as a blessing in disguise, as it's given him plenty of spare time to scope out East City's dating scene. But he's still not quite sure what to think of his new superior.

Mustang seemed so serious at first, but since settling in, he doesn't do much besides the usual office work - inspections, meetings, phone calls, and mountains of paperwork that he's notoriously slow at. And when he isn't working he's a total goof-off, flirting with any attractive woman who crosses his path, going out to bars and taking the women he's wooed out for nights on the town.

He even chats with girls on the phone during work hours! Good grief! Havoc had some discretion when it came to girls, this guy was just shameless!

Havoc's been trying to figure him out for a while. Even now, as he takes his usual afternoon smoke in the break room, seated in a chair near the back. Mustang just... rubs him the wrong way. Like what's his deal? Is he even trying to take his job seriously? No, he must be, he's practically a decorated veteran after Ishval... He just isn't acting like it.

Acting... Hm. Havoc shifts his jaw, bothering his cigarette with his teeth, pondering. That's gotta be what he's doing - an act. Pretending to be a lazy, good-for-nothing skirt-chaser, because...

...Because he's a heartless murderer getting fat off his blood money, like every other commander from Ishval.

- And suddenly the break room door creaks and moves, jostling Havoc from his thoughts and nearly sending him right out of his skin. Even more alarming is who's walking in - Lt. Colonel Mustang himself.

He shuffles in, looking somewhat drained as he nonchalantly pushes the ajar door further open, gazing distantly across the room before catching sight of Havoc. His dark eyes brighten, and he smiles warmly. "Ah- Hello, Havoc," he says.

"Uh, hey- I mean hello, sir," Havoc says, remembering his formalities in time to quickly correct himself and give a half-hearted salute.

Mustang only chuckles dismissively as he strides in, holding the door open for a moment to allow someone else in with him - and sure enough, following closely behind him is 2nd Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, his personal aide and bodyguard.

Havoc's wary of her as well, since her face is as stern and unreadable as Mustang's was the day he met him - except she looks like that all the time. She sticks to Mustang's side like glue, assisting him with daily tasks and accompanying him on official outings, her cold brown eyes always stoic and alert for potential danger.

...But usually, she's just standing by Mustang's desk, watching him as closely as her namesake to ensure his paperwork is completed before the end of the century.

After Havoc's occasional sightings of her practicing at the shooting range, it's obvious that she lives up to the title she earned in Ishval - 'The Hawk's Eye', a sniper who never misses her mark. According to rumors, she graduated ahead of her class before she was even twenty years old to be deployed there, and she's supposedly a good friend of Mustang's from those days.

...In other words, she's another murderer of innocents. More tragic here, since she's an awfully pretty young woman to be so heartless.

That's not what's bothering Havoc, though. What's weird is that Mustang and Hawkeye rarely show up in the break room, much less together. Something's not right here - but Hawkeye gives nothing away, as usual, and greets him with a silent nod before moving to the counter to use the coffee pot and surrounding cupboards.

Meanwhile, Mustang plops himself down into one of the cheap chairs near the center of the room, but not too far from where Havoc's seated. The oncoming summer heat seems to be getting to him, as he loosens a few of his uniform's buttons and pulls it apart, exposing his undershirt and some of his neck.

"God... all this paperwork's killing me," he says with a deflating sigh, sinking back into the chair.

"I'd think you'd be prepared for the workload, sir," Havoc responds, smirking in his direction.

"I guess I should have been," Mustang says, shrugging nonchalantly.

After a pause, he looks over, jerking his chin. "So, how's your day been, Corporal?"

Havoc raises an eyebrow. Small talk, huh? Sure, he'll play along. He makes a show of relaxing as well, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

"Oh, same as usual. Training the new guys, keeping the older ones busy, seein' as we aren't getting a whole lot of action lately." He side-eyes Mustang, hoping he gets the clue.

Mustang purses his lips, nodding. He doesn't seem to catch it. "Mm. Good to hear. Are the new recruits doing well?"

"Well enough."

"Good, good... Any complaints so far?"

"Nothing much, besides the usual. Weather sucks, uniforms're too stuffy, y'know."

Mustang looks down at his own open uniform. "Well I can vouch for that," he says, chuckling heartily. Havoc joins in with his own forced laughter.

But the mirth dies as quickly as it came, and an awkward silence settles in, broken only by the bubbling of the coffee pot and Hawkeye idly tapping the counter. Havoc shifts, but says nothing, hoping that Mustang will break the silence with whatever business he's really here for.

Sure enough, Mustang glances around awkwardly before meeting Havoc's eyes again. He studies him for a moment, then leans forward slightly.

"Ah... How about we drop the titles for a few moments, Jean? Talk man-to-man, as it were."

Havoc blinks at him. "Huh?"

"Lieutenant, if you please." Mustang lifts a hand, signaling to Hawkeye, and she nods, turns off the coffee pot and strides over to the break room door. She locks and closes it with an ominous click, then stands firmly next to it, stern and wary as always. Meanwhile, Mustang leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees, interlocking his fingers. He narrows his eyes - and now that old flame's back in them. That burning, studying look that Havoc saw months ago.

Havoc swallows lightly as he looks between him and Hawkeye, feeling every bit like a wild 'coon caught in a trap it didn't see coming. He does his best to keep a straight face even as his heart begins to thump in his ears.

"...What's this about, Mustang?"

Mustang shrugs lightly. "Oh, not much. I just wanted to ask you something."

His mouth drying out and the room closed off, Havoc wisely decides to take his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out against his boot. After tossing it into his ash tray, he sits back, jerking his chin. "...A'right, then. Shoot."

Something sparkles in Mustang's dark eyes, and he smirks. "What do you think of me, Havoc? Be honest."

...Well that's a loaded question if he ever heard one, Havoc thinks. Your boss locks you into a room with him and his bodyguard and demands your honest opinion of him? May as well be asking, 'where'd you like me to leave your body - the city dump, or a river?'

Havoc shifts his jaw, despite not holding a cigarette in his mouth anymore. If he lies, Mustang will probably see right through it and press him harder. But if he's honest like Mustang wants him to be, there's a chance he'll go easy on him for complying. And he may as well get some things off his chest.

Havoc leans forward, stares his boss dead in the eye and says evenly,

"...Honestly? I think you're full of shit, Mustang."

You could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence.

Mustang's smile doesn't waver, though. Even widens a little. "...Really, now?"

Not angry, huh? Well, Havoc may as well get it all out. "Yeah. You came in here all serious and shit months ago, but all you do is sit on your ass and goof off with chicks all day. And I can understand that as another man, but you? You're shameless."

Mustang just nods slowly. What, is- is he actually liking this? Bastard... Havoc feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Feeling braver - and angrier - he continues.

"That's not all. Your so called 'heroics' in Ishval? My men and I, we heard the stories. We heard what the grunts saw, not the Generals. You were a monster. Whole villages reduced to dust with a few little flicks of your fingers. Men, women, children, everyone. Dead."

Mustang's smile drops into a thin line, but he's still nodding. Havoc feels his blood boiling at this point, clenching his hands on his knees.

"And I don't know about you, sir, but I like to think that what I do is honorable. I uphold the law, I protect people. Citizens. Those Ishvalans? They were citizens too, under the law. Y'all can call it a war till yer blue in the face but as far as I'm concerned, that was a massacre."

Finally, something dark and distant passes over Mustang's face, and he stops nodding.

"...Yes, it was," he says, almost whispering.

Havoc jerks to his feet, fists clenched, ignoring how Hawkeye tenses at the door. "So you agree, then? That yer a goddamn murderer without a drop of remorse in yer goddamn body?!"

Mustang only frowns in response, still staring at him. Then he slowly rises to his feet, carefully readjusting and closing his uniform. He says nothing.

Havoc can't stand this anymore. "Well?! You gonna say something to defend yourself? Or- Or maybe you already know there's no point, after what you've done."

Mustang regards him for a moment, then reaches a hand into his pants pocket. Havoc feels a rush of panic - he knows he keeps his Alchemy gloves there. He's watched Mustang use them here and there at official demonstrations: he'll coolly walk into the center of an arena, pull his white gloves out of his pockets and onto his hands, red transmutation circles emblazoned on their backs. Then with a snap and a flash of light, he'll summon tongues of flames and explosions of any size and force he wants.

This is it, Havoc thinks. He's going to die here. But he'll be damned if he doesn't go down swinging.

Despite the fear gripping every bit of his body and sending him deep into the throes of his fight-or-flight response, he strides toward Mustang, sidling up so his chest is almost flush with his own, daring to put his face right in front of his.

"So that's it, huh? You gonna kill me now?" Havoc hisses, narrowing his eyes.

Mustang jerks back at the sudden closeness, but stands his ground. He lifts his head to meet Havoc's eyes, and at this distance, Havoc can see every detail of his face clearly. The creases around his eyelids, the sharp pupils of his black eyes, the sweat building on his brow. He can even feel the quick breaths from Mustang's nose against his lips.

Havoc jerks his eyes and head toward Hawkeye at the door, still speaking in a low, dark voice. "Didn't want your goon over there to get her hands dirty, right? I've seen 'er at the shooting range, best shot I've ever seen. But you know that'd leave too much of a mess, don't you? So instead yer gonna turn me into a nice li'l pile o' dust so I clean up nice an' easy."

Mustang only narrows his eyes, but Havoc can sense his breath hitching slightly, see his throat working, his lips pressing together. At this distance he can see that they're not as thin as Havoc assumed, sort of... soft, pliable. Pink-ish in color. And Mustang's actually significantly shorter than him, Havoc realizes vaguely, so it wouldn't take much, just a jerk of his chin and a lean forward, and he could-

...Wait, what is he-

Havoc jerks back, puffs out his chest, pushes away a vaguely flustered feeling that he blames on his highly emotional state. He keeps his eyes even with Mustang's.

"W- well do it, then," he sniffs. "I've said my piece. I got no regrets."

There's a beat of silence, the tension so palpable that Havoc can hardly breathe anymore. He glances between Mustang's hand still in his pocket and his face, his expression still unreadable. Havoc keeps his face tight, defiant. His senses fade around him, and all that seems to exist now is him, Mustang, and the sound of his heart in his ears. He flinches as Mustang's hand suddenly moves again, and pulls out-

A napkin.

...Wait, what?

Havoc just... stares, slack-jawed, as Mustang wipes his brow with the napkin, sighs long-sufferingly, then deposits it back into his pocket. Then he looks back up, clearing his throat, looking very tired, suddenly.

"No, Jean... My days of being a murderer are over," he says thoughtfully.

Havoc... doesn't know how to respond.

Mustang leans on one hip, lifts a finger to point at him. "You are right, though. About everything. And if I'd intended to get rid of you, that's probably how I would've done it. You're a smart man, Jean."

Havoc just... gapes at him. "Y... You're not- What?"

Mustang lowers his hand, smirking. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. Either of us."

Then he straightens and folds his arms behind his back, smiling serenely. "Sorry for the scare, I just uh- needed to test you. And I must say, you passed with flying colors, Jean. In fact, I'm thinking of giving you a promotion, if you don't mind."

"T... T- Test?" Havoc stammers uselessly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He looks between him and Hawkeye at the door and- Wait, is she smiling? Holy shit, she is. For once, Hawkeye's stern face wears a small, knowing smile, and her eyes are warm and mirthful instead of cold and distant.

When he looks back at Mustang, his eyes sparkle with inner laughter as well. "Has it ever occurred to you, Jean, that there is more to me than meets the eye?"

Havoc stammers again. "I- yeah, but... But you... and Ishval..."

The sparkles fade, along with Mustang's smile. "Yes, I did do all those things in Ishval. And I can tell you now that not a single part of me is proud of that, any of it. But if anything decent's come out of that hellhole, it's this-"

Mustang unfolds his arms, taps his forehead with a finger. "A plan. One that, if successful, will see me rising to the highest echelons of this godforsaken government, where I can enact change that will turn this country into something that both of us can be proud of again. A place of peace and justice, where the Ishvalan War, or any war, will never happen again. No more innocents will die, Havoc. I can promise you that."

Havoc feels his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "You- You don't mean... the Führer?"

Mustang nods, his eyes burning again. "Oh yes. I do."

He glances and nods in Hawkeye's direction. "But I can't do it alone. I need people on my side to help me get there. People I can trust, not just with my life or my orders, but with my ambitions. This will be dangerous in every possible sense, Jean."

Then Mustang's smile returns in its brightest form yet as he regards Havoc, puffing out his chest and lifting his chin, looking at him as if he were something... special. Like a grand treasure he's just discovered, a trophy he's won.

"...But from what I've seen? I think you're up for it," he says.

Havoc just... stares at him, breathless again. What he'd thought was a cage meant to kill him was a challenge that he'd risen to meet without even realizing it. He'd guessed correctly that his superior was putting on an act, but he'd misjudged his intentions completely - Mustang made himself seem lazy and shameless not to hide his inhuman cruelty, but so no one would ever suspect the earth-shattering ambitions hidden beneath his surface. Not his superiors, and certainly not his own subordinates. And maybe that in itself, the misjudgment, was part of the act too.

Something swells in Havoc's chest, and it must be pride, he thinks. Mustang was trusting him, simple ol' Jean Havoc, with those ambitions now. No one else, besides Hawkeye.

He's... Mustang... He's nothing short of incredible. There's no doubt about that, now.

...But he's not worth spacing out over like an idiot, Havoc realizes, and he blinks himself back into existence before he makes himself look even more foolish. He straightens quickly, and gives Mustang the best salute he can muster. "I- I- I'll do my best, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang sir!"

"I know you will," Mustang says, still smiling at him. "Now, let's head back to my office. There's much to discuss."

And that was how Havoc gained the title of 2nd Lieutenant, and more importantly, an absolute shitload of admiration and respect for his superior.

[cleverfoxhound-writes]

A writing commission for @maki-washu featuring @mellon-collie ‘s dnd character Maxwell Gascoigne and (my dnd  OC) Antigone Astmai.

Tagging: @yesitsmejt @mellon-collie

Word Count: 3066

"We've been traveling for how long now? I’m exhausted," the taller man of the group yawned.

"We've been traveling for two days and you haven't done a thing to be tired over,"

"Come on Antigone, we fought devils, hellhounds and whatever else decided to get in our way. Why are you being such a hardass?" Max scoffed.

"Because I was the one that made sure we didn't get lost on our way here," Antigone shot back.

"Children calm down and let's find an Inn, some hot food, drinks and call it a night," The smaller woman sighed.

"A drink sounds perfect right now," Max sighed.

The trio of travelers had just reached a smaller town on their path to the capitol. They had traveled from the dangerous forests of Ulvenwald and continued northeast to avoid the forests. They reached the small and sleepy village of Evercall. The village seemed simple and quiet but even in their weary state, they knew danger slept in the darkness.

The group made their way to what looked to be an Inn, tied up their horses, made themselves comfortable in the tavern and ordered food and drinks.

"You should have seen the look on his face," Max laughed and almost knocked over his drink.

"You're shitting me, after all of that it was his sister and mother working together?" Shine replied with almost as much vigor as the man.

"That sounds super sleaze," Antigone commented.

"I know, I know," Max chuckled. "Believe me I got the hell outta there when I found out. I'm not dealing with that crazy ass shit,"

The man chuckled before he took a long swig of his drink.

"My, My, My old man you have so many adventures involving women," Antigone began.

"If there's a woman in distress it is my duty to help,"

"Unless she's a fucking vampire. You best believe I didn't forget that shit you got us into with that one woman," Zhine began as she slammed her giant mug down on to the table.

"Aw, come on Zhine, she was in distress, I had to help her,” Max replied.

"You didn't have to," Antigone smirked.

"Yeah until she tried to take a bite out of you," Zhine snorted.

"Yeah...that kinda ruined the mood," Max sighed.

"No kidding," Antigone sneered.

"Look, we got rid of the town's problem," Max laughed.

"You’re lucky the pay was good," Zhine sighed.

The trio were on their way to the capitol to decipher a dream that came to them and only when they defeated the man called Siegfried they discovered their dreams were connected to one another. One finished the other while another began another, and it all centered on the unsuspecting item they carried. For now, they would rest for a few days to recover and took smaller jobs from the townspeople.

"Alright, I'm heading to bed. Try not to drink yourselves stupid," Antigone said as she stood up.

"No promises," Zhine replied

"You know what Antig..." Max began.

"What?" Antigone questioned.

"You never drink with us...why is that?" Max questioned. The blonde haired woman took a moment before she answered the man.

"I can't hold my liquor,"

"Well shit. Who knew that our silent little sniper can't hold her liquor," Max chuckled as he watched the woman disappear up the stairs of the Inn and took a drink.

"I figured as much. I've only seen her drink tea every time we've been to a tavern," Zhine added.

"Hmm...the more you know," Max said and leaned back in his chair. Zhine nodded and took another drink.

"Say Zhine...when we get to the capitol...what do you think will happen?" Max asked somberly. Zhine arched an eyebrow as she shifted in her seat, it was unusual for the man to sound so somber.

“I don't know. I'm sure once we get to the capital we'll figure it out," Zhine replied. A sigh came from the man across from her and soon he downed the rest of his drink.

"I guess you're right,"

"Nervous about something?" Zhine questioned. Max hesitated for a moment and replied with shrug.

"Not really, it's just been a while since I've been back,"

"We're not going to be attacked by all of the women you've wooed and stood up are we?" Zhine arched an eyebrow at the man.

"Nah. I'm sure most of them have forgotten me," Max chuckled.

"Mmmhm. There will be that one woman who is obsessed with you and will try to kill Antigone and me just to have you to herself," Zhine said as she tapped her nails on the table.

"That's terrifying, Zhine please," Max chuckled.

"I'm just saying," Zhine shrugged.

"You two will be fine," Max smirked.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Zhine said and downed the rest of her drink.

"Have more faith in me Zhine. You're the only one that does,” Max laughed a bit.

Zhine arched an eyebrow at the man again, he laughed but she knew there was something deeper behind that laughter, a hint of sadness. They didn't know too much about each other's pasts but what she did know is that he had suffered something tragic enough to leave the church and whatever else he had behind.

"I'm sure Antigone does...even if it is minuscule," Zhine replied. Max scoffed.

"Awww does out little hot and cold blondie friend hurt your feelings that much?" Zhine laughed and kicked her little legs.

"Sometimes," Max sighed heavily.

"You drama queen. She believes in you as much as I do," Zhine replied.

"You say that, but I’m sure she’d leave me to die if she had the choice," Max waved off the smaller woman's comment.

"Stop, she won’t and you two would be up shit creek if I got kidnapped. And you two better come to rescue my ass or I’m haunting the both of you," Zhine huffed.

“That’s a terrible thought…how about another drink?” Max suggested as he waved down the barmaid again. The woman smiled and approached the man with her tray, a smile on her lips.

“Hello, again Miss beautiful,”

Zhine sighed as she watched the man casually flirt with the woman, it was going to be a long night.

The next few days, the trio did small jobs for the village people too afraid to venture outside the safety of the village, they gather materials, herbs, rescued fellow villagers that had gotten lost.

Three days had passed since they arrived and today was their last stay in the village, the sun was barely over the horizon as the two women awaited the last member of their crew. Antigone bounced the shared party gold pouch in her hand before she securely placed the pouch in her travel bag.

“At this rate, you two can drink yourselves stupid,” Antigone commented.

“I will test that theory once we reach the capital,” Zhine smirked.

“By all means. We have enough to evenly split if we need to,” Antigone replied and adjusted her hood.

“Trying to run away Antig?” Zhine arched an eyebrow.

“Far from it. I’m stuck with you all until whatever….where’s the old man?” Antigone noticed that the man was missing.

“I went to his room to wake him up and heard something from his room. So I assumed he was awake,” Zhine began.

“You think something happened to him?” Antigone asked. Zhine shrugged.

“He’s an adult…” Zhine trailed off.

“Really Zhine…”Antigone began. Zhine sighed and crossed her arms.

“I’m mad that you’re right about this,” Zhine began as she started for the entrance. At that moment, the said man strolled out of the Inn and over to the two women.

“Morning ladies,” Max smiled.

“And here I was thinking that something may have happened to you,” Zhine began as she watched the man slick his hair back with a smirk.

“Couldn’t pass up a hot bath,” Max replied.

“I’m sure that’s not all you passed up either,” Antigone murmured.

“What was that Antig?” Max asked as he looked at her expectantly.

“It’s Antigone,” Her sharp blue eyes locked on to his green ones.

“So cold, c’mon you call me old man let me have some fun,” Max replied. The woman rolled her eyes at the man and crossed her arms.

“How are everyone’s rations looking?”

“I think we should be good. Antigone said that there should be one more town before we get to the capitol…” Zhine began

“I don’t know how long it’ll take us to get there though. With the weather it can vary,” Antigone spoke up.

“An estimate?” Max asked.

“Two to three days?” Antigone replied. The two nodded and began to check their travel packs for their rations.

“I think we should stock up a bit more just in case,” Max suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Zhine nodded.

“Let’s meet back here in an hour?”

The trio agreed before they split up and gather what they needed for their travels, after an hour they were on their way out of the village. Just as they reached the village entrance a young boy ran over to them.

“Excuse me sir are you the leader?” the boy asked as he looked up at Max. Max glanced at the other two before he spoke.

“Not entirely. What can I do for you, my boy?” Max asked.

“I have a message from the winds that traveled through the village when you first arrived,” the boy began.

“The winds?” Max questioned.

“What do you mean?” Zhine questioned

“It’s a religion that focuses on nature, using the spirits of nature to tell them what the human eye can’t see or feel,” Antigone spoke up.

“The message…someone is coming for you…something bad. They’ve been following you since you left,” the boy trailed off.

“Since we left?” Max repeated, confused by the cryptic message.

“That doesn’t explain a lot,” Zhine commented.

“Lauden!”

A woman quickly ran up to the boy and began to usher him away from the trio.

“I-I apologize for my son. Please pay no mind to what he says,” the woman began.

“Woah now. Wait a minute,” Max said as he slid from his horse. “Your son was explaining to us what he heard from the winds. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

The woman sighed and introduced herself as Cecelia and explained that the winds had told her and her sons that someone is searching for the trio. Cecelia also mentioned that the man that lived in the manor in the Eastern part of town had disappeared months ago and recently his body was discovered with his head decapitated from his body. The wife of the man had been looking for the killers ever since.

The trio thanked the woman for the information and her warning to take care while on their journey. The first night was uneventful, and as the second night was when they struck.

“Zhine!!” Antigone shouted as she tried to follow after the dark-garbed men that had snatched the gnome only to be stopped by another dark-garbed man.

“Get the hell out of my way!”

“Antigone watch yourself!” Max shouted and blocked a blade by one assailant and narrowly dodged an arrow aimed for his head. The arrow pierced through his hat and flung it from his head.

“My hat!”

A bright light seemed to explode from her hands as she charged the man, the man barely dodged the attack and missed the follow-up attack that came from her. Max impaled one of the men and savagely twist and ripped the sword from the flesh of the assailant. Max sensed the second man behind him and barely dodged the man’s attack. Though he was able to dodge the weapon he was not able to dodge the claws that sliced his side.

“S-shit!” Max cursed as quickly jumped back to avoid counterattacks. A loud whistle echoed through the forest, a signal to retreat and just as fast as they appeared they vanished.

“Fuck!” Antigone cursed as she tried to keep up with their escape path, and failed. She quickly ran back to the man distraught by the ambush and the kidnapping when she noticed that he gingerly held his side.

“Y-you’re injured,” Antigone commented as the man grunted and stumbled a bit. He took a blow for the woman, he used himself as a distraction so that she could land the killing blow to one of the vampires.

“Nope. I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine we have to rescue Zhine. Who knows what they will do to her,” Max sighed as he slicked back his hair and held his side.

“Old man don’t pull this tough macho man shit on me. I can smell blood on you,” Antigone said as she watched the man retrieve his sword that had fallen from his hands moments ago.

“Didn’t know you were a bloodhound Antig,” Max grunted as he reached for his sword.

Antigone remained silent and fumed with anger at the man, she could clearly see that he held his side. She knew he was injured and yet he continued as if nothing bothered him.

“Those vampires…do you think they’re the ones that Cecelia’s kid was talking about?” Max asked as he turned to face the woman. ”What’s with the frown?”

“Those vampires had the same insignia that Lambert wore on his clothing back at Siegfried’s manor,” Antigone replied.

“Figures, you’re not hurt are you?” Max questioned.

“I’m fine,”

“Can you pick up their trail? Max asked as he winced.

“Yeah,” Antigone replied as the man placed his hat back on to his head.

“Let’s get a move on. We have to save Zhine,” Max said quietly. “These vampires are stronger than I thought they were,”

“Mm…” Antigone knelt to the ground as she began to look for traces of where the vampires retreated.

As the woman searched the area momentarily she disappeared into the brush, Max looked at his hand through the foliage of the forest some of the light from the moon trickled through the brush and gave him enough light to see the crimson liquid that coated his hand.

“They came from Evercall,” Antigone began. He quickly dropped his hand behind his back before she could see the blood.

“How long will it take us to get back to Evercall?” Max questioned.

“We don’t have our horses so…three hours if we push ourselves,”

“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time,” Max said as he started to walk and stopped and turned to Antigone.

“Uh…you should probably lead,”

Antigone nodded as she looked around the forest and began right, Max silently followed after her.

It took the duo two hours to reach the gates of Evercall and an hour to reach the manor.

“Listen, old man,” Antigone began.

“Hm?” Max glanced at the woman as he continued to survey the manor.

“…Max…,” Her words whispered and the tug on his jacket shocked him and caused him to instantly stop.

“You called me—“Max began. She held up an ungloved hand to his mouth, her crystal blue eyes focused on his green ones.

“I…can’t do this alone….I need you to do this with me so please don’t get yourself killed,” The softness and sincerity of her words were foreign to him but welcomed.

“Antigone…you really are a piece of work you know that?” The man chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry. I promise,” Max promised as he looked down at her.

“Let me heal you,” Antigone whispered and placed the palms of her ungloved hands on the man’s wound. “Thank you…Antigone,” Warm flooded the man’s side as the wound on his side began to heal and the pangs of pain ebbed away.

“Let’s go,” Antigone said as she slipped her hands back into her leather gloves.

When the duo reached the inside of the manor, they were greeted by not Lambert’s wife but his sister along with the same dark-garbed men that attacked had them hours ago. The woman held the unconscious gnome woman hostage and was determined to have revenge for the death of her brother with the death of each of them, Zhine would be the first.

The battle was long and torturous and yet they persisted. Through the wounds and afflictions, they suffered the two continued they couldn’t give up they needed to save the woman. If one fell, the other was there to help the other up to continue to push them towards their objective. One by one, the vampires fell until the woman was left, with the last of her strength Antigone aimed her bow and released her last arrow, the arrow hit its mark in the throat of the woman. The female vampire fell to her knees and choked and gagged on her own blood.

“May you burn in hell,” Max growled as he brought down his sword on the woman’s neck. Instantly the woman was dead.

“Antigone you—“Max began as he turned towards the woman who collapsed. A soft groan came from the woman as she pushed herself to her hands and knees. Max quickly checked the unconscious woman and picked her up before he went over to the woman and extended a hand to her.

“We did it,” Antigone exhaled and took his hand.

“We did, you did good Antigone,” Max said as he helped her up. A faint blush spread across the woman’s cheeks as she stood.

“L-Let’s get out of here,” Antigone said and began to wobble out of the grand hall.

“Right behind you,”

“You two are friendlier now…what happened while I was gone?” Zhine sneered.

“I will not hesitate to make you walk Zhine,” Antigone threatened the woman that was situated behind her.

“Oh, so something did happen…did you two kiss? Was he a good kisser?” Zhine asked.

“He’s too old and not my type so I don’t know nor do I care to know,” Antigone replied tiredly.

“I like nice girls and not ones that torment me or call me old,” Max replied as he glared over at the two women. Antigone scoffed as the woman behind her laughed.

“It probably would have been gross…” Zhine commented.

“I’ll have you know I’m very talented with my—“Max began.

“Too much information old man. Please before I vomit,” Antigone gagged.

[all-made-of-stardust]

Who Suggested This Again?

My first submission for RvB Reverse Big Bang. Also on Ao3.

Based on art by @goodluckdetective found here.

Here's a little story: I signed up for the Reverse Big Bang with high hopes for myself. Unfortunately, life has a way of ruining hopes and dreams for everyone. I initially wished for this to be a sprawling fic with multiple stories. Instead, I have a page of character introductions and two mini-adventures. It's not much, but I owe it to my artist and myself to post what I have. Enjoy, if you can.

**********

Kai had gathered everyone together in the biggest room on the base that they could find. She smiled as she pulled Donut to the head of the table, Donut himself carrying a big cardboard box, which he promptly slammed down with a cheeky grin.

“Everyone ready?” he asked.

There was a collective series of groans and affirmations, punctured by Caboose shouting “We get to finally play a game together!”

“Then let’s get started.” Donut pulled out a stack of paper and started passing them around. “Take your character sheet and please read aloud who you are going to play. And remember: you picked these roles, not me.”

Grif took the first sheet and cleared his throat.

“I am a dwarf who’s a paladin to Rati, the sacred god of rest and relaxation.”

“Why did you let him pick his own god?” Simmons groaned.

“Hey, I let you be a wizard despite the fuss you’ll make about it,” Donut snapped back. “Now read your character sheet.”

Simmons glanced down at his paper. “Hi, I’m an elf wizard, and I’m gonna do cool magic tricks as long as they match my level and I have enough spell slots.”

“Killjoy,” Grif murmured.

Sarge stood up and shot a look at Simmons.

“I don’t need none of that pointy eared nonsense in my game,” he stated. “I’m just as human as any of us. You won’t catch me fraternizing with no aliens!”

“There aren’t any aliens in D&D, Sarge,” Donut gently reminded.

“I’ll still fight em off! That’s why it says I’m a fighter, cuz I’m gonna shoot em all dead with my shotgun!”

“There aren’t any shotguns in D&D either.”

“No shotguns?! Then how am I supposed to kill the Blues – I mean, the aliens?”

“I think you’ll find you’re equipped with a good amount of other weapons.”

Sarge peered at his sheet. His eyes widened.

“A battleaxe? Alright, I can settle for that.”

Donut turned to Doc, who was shifting awkwardly in between Sarge and Kai.

“Um, well, I’m an elven cleric, to Eun, one of the gods of mercy and compassion. Because someone has to heal you guys. Why it always ends up being me I have no idea…”

“Well that’s Red Team,” Donut finished. “How about you, Blue - ”

“Hey!” Kai protested. “I count as a Red!”

Donut waved his hand in Kai’s direction. She sat up taller and smirked.

“I am a glorious Fire Genasi who will wreak havoc with her insane druid powers. Also I can talk to animals – bonus! I can finally flirt with bears like I’ve always wanted!”

“Wait, what?” Grif said, but Donut was already turning towards Blue team.

Carolina took the first sheet, and smiled slightly as she read it out loud.

“I am a half-orc monk.”

Wash and Tucker both giggled. Carolina shot them a glare.

“From what I know about monks, they’re pretty skilled in unarmed combat. Want me to test my skills on you two?”

She flexed her hand into a fist. Wash and Tucker stopped laughing.

Carolina took another page from the pile and held it up to her shoulder. Epsilon flickered to life and cackled.

“I cannot believe Kai roped you all in on this! This is gonna be the best thing that’s ever happened to this place!”

“Church, shut up and read your character,” Tucker snapped.

“Fine, fine. Buzzkill. Ahem. I am a regular old human gunslinger – thank you to Donut for letting me have that particular category of classes.”

“Oh, what, Church’s character gets a sniper rifle too?” Tucker laughed. “Why, so he can miss twice as much this time around?”

“This time, it’s all in the luck of the dice, pal,” Church mused.

Tucker handed the pile to Wash, who narrowed his eyes at his sheet and smiled.

“I’m the rogue. Of course I am.”

“Fuck yes!” Tucker cried. “Please tell me your weapon of choice is a bunch of throwing knives, please.”

Wash’s smile grew. “What else?” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Ooh, ooh, can I go next?” Caboose jumped up and down. Tucker handed him his character sheet but he didn’t even look at it.

“I am a ranger, I think,” Caboose recited from memory. “And I am a teddy bear!”

“The technical term is bugbear,” Donut corrected.

“You let him play as a bugbear?!” shouted several people at once.

Tucker rolled his eyes and grabbed the last piece of paper. He grinned and slammed it down on the table.

“I am the best member of this party. I am a smoking hot half-elf. And I am a - ”

“Oh god no.” Grif was staring at Tucker in horror.

“I am a - ”

“Please don’t let it be true,” Grif whispered.

“Fuck yes, Tucker!” Kai shouted.

“I am a BARD!”

Grif fell back, groaning pitifully, as Kai cheered and clapped.

“I think that’s everyone,” Donut said as the room calmed down. “Shall we begin?”

***********

Tucker looked Donut dead in the eyes while holding up his dice.

“Why are you even rolling this?” Donut asked, ignoring Church as he howled with laughter behind Tucker.

“Because someone,” Tucker threw an extremely pointed look at Sarge, “told me that my music doesn’t matter.”

“I told you dirty Blue the truth! A glorified musician has an occupation that’s a waste in this beautiful kingdom founded on the ideals of violence and war!”

“And I want to counter it by proving my worth as the world’s most wondrous bard!” Tucker shouted.

Donut sighed as Church slowed his laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh, just let him roll it, Donut!” he cried. “It’ll be the best roll we’ve seen this whole session.”

“I’d make the argument that Grif’s attempts to appease to his paladin’s god by taking a nap was a close second,” Tex smirked.

“Hey, he’s the god of rest and relaxation for a reason, Tex!” Grif argued.

“Enough!” Donut yelled, and the whole room went silent. “Tucker, just roll your die.”

“If it’s a 1, you have to smash your guitar,” Church whispered in Tucker’s ear. Tucker took a deep breath and tossed the die gently around in his palm. He held it out to Kai, who was focusing intently on the die.

“Wish me good luck?” Tucker schmoozed. Kai winked and blew on the die. Tucker closed his eyes and threw the dice onto the table.

Donut was the first to see it.

“Why did you have to crit on that??” he wailed, while everyone around Tucker cheered. “Fine, I guess you have infinite guitars now or something! Are you happy now, Tucker?”

Through the ruckus around him, Tucker focused on Sarge, who was looking sheepish.

“Wanna take that comment back, Mr. I-just-insulted-the-world’s-best-bard?”

“You’re still a dirty blue,” Sarge muttered, but he cracked a smile.

**************

“Look all I’m saying is infiltrating a fortress with two captives in tow is not very stealthy,” Wash whined. “Let me be a good rogue for once guys, come on.”

“You were never a good rogue, Wash,” Carolina smirked. “The first step to acceptance is admitting the truth.”

“When the hell was I a bad rogue? I’m sneaky!”

Donut stifled a giggle. “If I recall, your last stealth roll ended up with you in a bit of a pickle.”

“Because you wouldn’t let me count the trees as cover!”

“It was a bonsai tree!”

“Whatever, I’m just saying, we can’t go delving in without figuring out our current situation.”

“No,” Carolina said.

“You didn’t even let me - ”

“For the last time, your panther is not a pet, he is a familiar.”

“I’m just saying that if we tied them to the panther and left them out in the woods, we could - ”

“Familiars still get hungry.”

“I’ll order him not to eat them. Both of us are familiar with what happens when we disobey orders, right Wash?”

Kai winked at Wash while Carolina stared between them, dumbfounded.

“Wait, what?” she spluttered, while Donut cackled with glee as Wash blushed bright red.

“We’re taking the prisoners with us,” Wash muttered, trying to hide his face.

Kai pouted as Donut said “Roll for stealth with disadvantage.”

Wash rolled a one.

[fanficwriter013]

Kumi Told Me Not to Break Her But I Did That Shit Anyway

Title: The Angst Train (IDK, change later)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Inspired by Fall Out Boy’s Miss Missing You.  It’s mostly Angst, I don’t even have a summary for this. Flashback in italics.

Word Count: 3431

Warnings: ANGST, a shooting, triggering episode, Winter Soldier, Violence.

A/N: So in writing this not only do I break my unscheduled creative hiatus (I blame writer’s block), but I’m also revealing a secret identity. This is all for the death of @mellifluous-melodramas

Your whole body ached. Your eyelids felt as if someone had tied 60 pound weights to them, breathing was done in short quick bursts so as to to agitate the handful of cracked ribs you'd sustained on the mission. Clint was flying the quinjet, or at least he was sitting in the pilot's seat. It'd been you, Clint and Sam on this mission and you were all pretty beat up. Sam had a gash on his forehead that had needed stitches, you'd done it before the post-adrenaline crash had occurred. Now all you wanted was to go home, get a shower, and cuddle up to your boyfriend and fall asleep watching tv.

It hadn't been easy starting a relationship with the former Winter Soldier. There had been a lot of hot and cold moments from that man. He would either flirt with you relentless or wouldn't acknowledge your presence. You hadn't let that stop you, you were naturally sarcastic and would turn to that whenever Bucky was pretending you didn't exist.

The guys had gone out to a bar for a well deserved guy's night. You'd opted for the couch potato option. Clothes in the comfiest clothes you owned, and surrounded by a mountain of junk food, you mindlessly munched while you binge-watched a show on the big screen on the common floor.

You hadn't realized how late it had gotten until the boys returned home. You'd been alerted to their presence by Clint's loud giggling, that could only mean he was drunk. You heard some shushes, as Steve hustled everyone onto the common floor. No doubt in search of water to combat everyone's undeniable hangover. Clint and Sam fell, giggling onto the couch where you’d been curled up.

“I see we all had a fun time out tonight.” You commented, getting up to help Steve find water bottles for everyone.

“It was like herding cats, (Y/N).” Steve hissed, when you stepped into the kitchen. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, and sounded exhausted.

“So, I'll help you put the cats to bed and then you could go to bed.” You told him, grabbing out an armful of water bottles from the fridge, and turning back to see if Steve was ready. He gave an exasperated sigh and followed you out into the living room.

“Bedtime, kiddos.” You said, grabbing Clint by the arm and pulling him up off the couch. Steve grabbed Sam first, and then went to get Bucky who was sitting in the recliner.

“I’m not tired, Stevie.” He slurred, and Steve backed down. You muscled Clint, and Steve manhandled Sam into the elevator, and then put them down in their beds. When you left you reminded Clint to drink his water, or he would feel it tomorrow. You said goodnight to Steve and went back to finish the episode you had been watching.

After a few moments of watching the figures on the screen move, you became aware of the weight of a gaze laying upon you. You subtlety flicked your eyes in Bucky's direction, and sure enough he was watching you and not the tv.

“Something on my face, Barnes?” You questioned, turning to give him your attention. His gaze remained trained on you, like a sniper focusing on his target. But his face softened when he smiled at you.

“No, it's just radiantly beautiful.” He sounded more like himself. You flashed him a bright smile, wheels turning to come up with a witty response.

“Thanks, your’s isn't ridiculously painful to look at either.” Was the response that fell out of your mouth. It was good enough to earn you a soft chuckle, and you'd die to hear more of that noise. Hell, you'd die to see more of this carefree, peaceful man in front of you.

“You drive me insane, and you don't even have the slightest idea what you do to me.” It was a statement that could turn this conversation real heavy, and in just a few milliseconds. You decided you were going to jump off that ledge, consequences be damned.

“So, why don't you ask me out, Barnes? I think I've made my flirting just about as obvious as a brick wall. What's stopping you?” You asked, there were several reasons you could think of. But what did this beautifully damaged man have going on inside his head? You watched him struggle for a minute to come up with a good answer.

“I'll be real honest here, I couldn't lie even if I wanted to with this much alcohol coursing through my system.” He paused, trying to make light of the situation and to compose himself. “The Winter Soldier.” That answer hit you like a ton of bricks. Your mind whirled, trying to find the proper words to say, and to convey your feelings.

“I have a lot to say, so let me start with. That wasn't you, that was conditioning. You've never done anything to hurt me, and you never would. I trust you explicitly. Have you saved my ass out in the field? More times than I can count, and you know how much I like my ass. This,” you pause to gesture between the two of you. “Can't go anywhere without communication. And let me tell you, I'm a consenting adult. If I say that I want a relationship with you, which I do, it's with all the pieces of you. Including your Winter Soldier past, emphasis on the past part. Alright, I'll shut up now.” Your voice had an edge in it, you always got very defensive when it came to the whole misconception of the Winter Soldier being a villain. The man behind the mask wasn't a villain he was a victim, and now he was looking at you like you had twelve heads.

“And if I'm triggered?” He asks, the other question is there. Could you do what needed to be done given a mental apocalypse was occurring. Again, your mind was running a million miles a minute.

You stood up, stepping around the coffee table. You stop in front of Bucky, placing an arm on either armrest and lean into his personal space. “Honey, I would take a bullet for you. We'll cross the bridge if it ever happens.” You tell him, and apparently that answer satisfies the man because he reaches up, pulling you forward by the shirt to capture your lips with his own.

When you woke up the next morning, you weren't sure if Bucky would remember what had happened between the two of you. But when you rolled over, almost hitting him in the process, he was already awake and watching you.

“I was afraid the alcohol had made me dream up last night, couldn't open my eyes to check either. If it had been a dream, and I'd opened my eyes it would have come to an end. That might have killed me, doll.” He says, and your first instinct is sarcasm.

“Who knew that James Buchanan Barnes could be so sappy?” You teased and he laughed pushing your shoulder. “Don't knock me out of my own bed.” You joke, grabbing onto his arm to regain your balance.

“Like I'd ever let you fall. Been there, done that, got the metal arm to prove it.” He jokes, and you can’t believe that he’s in a place where he can joke about the event that started his decades of pain.

Ever since that night, the two of you were a thing. Bucky was caring and gentle, and you were sarcastic and goofy. It was a good partnership, and after the hard mission you’d just been on. You wanted your cuddle buddy, and some much needed sleep. Which was a whole lot closer than you thought it was, as Clint parked the quinjet in the hangar of the Tower. You shuffled off to the elevator, sharing with Sam, down to the floor you shared with Bucky.

Stepping off the elevator, you realized instantly that something was off. Normally, Bucky would be waiting for you on the couch. He’d have a first aide kit, and snacks for whatever you wanted to fall asleep watching. Now, he wasn’t on the couch. You shuffled into the kitchen, to find that empty, too. You sighed, deciding to go take your shower and just go to bed.

When you walked into the bedroom, you felt the cold predatory presence before you saw him. Bucky’s worst nightmare was coming true. The man you loved was being piloted by the Winter Soldier, and he was aiming a gun at you. You put your hands up, keeping steady eye contact with the dead gaze of the Winter Soldier. You knew there was only one hope of a solution, finishing the mission. It was clear that that mission was you.

“Buck, I know you're in there. It's not your fault. I love you, sweetheart. But you gotta finish the mission.” You said, taking slow deliberate steps toward the Winter Soldier. He allowed you to approach until the cold muzzle of his pistol was situated in the middle of your chest.

“I'm the mission, finish it.” You stated, staring into the ice cold stare of the man that you'd take a bullet for. It was a shame that he was behind the trigger. “Bucky, I love you. Don't fight him, it's not your fault. It'll be okay.” You said, and you heard the gunfire. In the next second, the pain exploded in your chest like a shockwave and you crumpled to the floor.

You were vaguely aware of heavy footsteps stepping over you, before the pain became too much for you and you succumbed to the darkness.

Bucky’s POV (First person):

He had killed her, the monster that HYDRA made. With her final breath went my will to live. I wanted control over my body again, but what could I do. Hold her lifeless body and picture all the missed moments we had. How we'd never get married, nor would we have a family together. There would be no house with a white picket fence, and children running around the yard. There would be only pain.

He steps over her as she struggles, he doesn't even stop to confirm death. Just stalks over top of her, out into the living room she'd decorated. There should have been a protocol put in place for this, FRIDAY should be able to lock down the Tower. Instead, he jams the up button. I'm not even sure of all the details of this mission, but obviously they thought killing (Y/N) wouldn't be enough to break me. How wrong they were.

The Winter Soldier gets into the elevator, pressing the button for the gym. I know that the only person at the gym now is Steve. They either want him dead or alive.

He gets off the elevator, the only sounds coming from flesh hitting sand filled bags. Steve must be upset about something, won't he be in for a surprise when the Winter Soldier shows up. He stalks into the gym without saying a word.

“Hey, Buck what's - FRIDAY.” Steve calls as he realizes that the body in front of him is the Winter Soldier. Good for that little punk, only took fifteen seconds. He's shooting at Steve, they must want him dead too. Because they haven't taken everything from me already. Steve jumps into the air twirling and landing on my body's shoulders. He uses the momentum to knock it over, and even hits my head against the floor hard enough to cause a concussion.

That makes him mad. He kicks Steve off my body and gets back to his, my, feet. Both take defensive stances, but he is more animal than Steve could be. They go back and forth, Steve lands a hit and then he gets one on Steve. It seems to be an even fight, until the elevators open and Sam, Clint and Natasha get off it. Nat's face is angry, and she charges for the Winter Soldier. Pulling her signature thigh grab move, and it, we, go down hard. Steve runs over to hit my head on the floor again, and we black out.

The first thing I'm aware of when I come to is the headache. In the next second, I've relived what's happened and my eyes snap open trying to sit straight up in the bed they've put me in, but a hand stops me.

I look up at Steve. “(Y/N)?” I ask, and Steve sighs. He doesn't want to tell me. My eyes dart around the room, they've placed me in one of the medical suites. I caught a glimpse of movement but the door, and look as Bruce walks into the room. He looks like he's been up most of the night.

“We did some brain scans, had Wanda search through your head, too. And we're still not sure how you were triggered. We need you another hour for observation, but then you're free to go.” Bruce says, turning to leave. I almost let him, but if Steve won't tell me. Maybe Bruce will.

“(Y/N)?” I question again, and Bruce visibly stiffens. He turns back around and there's a fire in his eyes.

“I reviewed the footage, she knew what she was doing. Still had her suit on.” I didn't know what the suit had to do with - Oh, the suit was bullet proof. “Her sternum is broken, along with half a dozen ribs but she's going to be okay.” Bruce explained, and it felt like I could finally breath again.

Your POV:

The first thing you were aware of was the hands, the next was the pain. Someone, probably Bruce, was examining you. If you thought it hurt to breathe before, now every attempt at getting air was met with the pain of fiery hot lava. You groaned trying to sit up, you needed to know what had happened. But Bruce held you down.

“Bucky?” You asked, finally cracking an eyelid to watch his face. But you wished you hadn't. Bruce had that grim, ‘this is a disaster’ look on his face.

“The Winter Soldier went after Steve, who took him down with Nat's help. He should be waking up any second now.” Bruce says, using FRIDAY to take an X-Ray of your chest. “But you're not going anywhere, while that suit may be bullet proof it still did some damage. Cracked sternum along with 6 ribs.” He explained, and you glared at him.

“I had at least 3 of those from the mission. I need to see him.” Your voice had a desperate air to it. But you did need to see him, he more than likely thought you were dead and was going to be in shut down mode.

“He can come to see you, after we observe him for an hour. In the meantime, do you want any pain medication?” Bruce asked, and you shook your head. You hated the way those made you feel, you'd rather deal with the pain. “Alright, try and get some rest.” Bruce says, as he walks out the door.

“FRIDAY, playback.” You said, you were going to figure out where this all went wrong. Even if it killed you.

It'd been the longest hour of your entire life, you'd watched the footage about a dozen times and you still couldn't pinpoint a trigger. It was just one second he was Bucky and the next he was the Asset.

And then an hour turned into two, and if you weren't worried before you were in maximum overdrive now. “FRIDAY, get Steve.” You called, sitting up slowly. You turned your legs to hang over the side of the bed, and tested your body weight on them. That was when Steve walked in.

“What do you think you're doing?” It was both Dad voice and Cap voice. He was at your side before you could blink, taking most of your weight from you.

“I need to see him.” You panted, every movement was met with sharp stabbing pains. “Bruce said he'd be released an hour ago.” You explained, and Steve examined you before scooping you up in his arms.

“Doing okay?” He asked, and you nodded. “Let me know if I'm hurting you.” He says, and you nod again. He takes you back to the catalyst of this very event, your shared floor with Bucky. He isn't waiting for you on the couch, but you know this is different. Steve takes you directly into the bedroom, where Bucky is packing his stuff like a wild animal.

“Hey.” You call to him, as Steve puts you down on the bed and quickly leaves. “Where do you think you're going? Better not be without me.” It's accusatory, but also ending in a joke. Like you always do. Bucky looks up at you, his red stained blue eyes dragging over your body. He flinches when you take a breath and wince.

“I hurt you, and so I'm leaving.” The way he says it is so cold and decisive. You sit up, moving to get up. A cold glare stops you in your tracks. You shake your head.

“Cut that bullshit out right now, James.” Using his first name seems to get to him. “You didn't shoot me, that was the Winter Soldier. But if you, James Buchanan Barnes, leave me now you will break me. I knew what I was doing when I told you to shoot me, I was prepared for the cracked ribs, what's a couple more anyway. I told you I'd take a bullet for you, and I did. If that doesn't tell you plain as day that I love you, then I can't stop you from leaving.” His face was unreadable, holding you under the microscope inspection of his gaze. You stared back at him, it wasn't like you could go anywhere if you wanted. That speech had left you winded, and your ribcage was screaming at you for disturbing it.

“What kind of reckless idiot would literally take a bullet for someone?” Bucky finally asks, in a teasing tone. You smirk at him, as the perfect answer pops into your mind.

“Steve.” You say, and Bucky chuckles as he shakes his head at you. “Steve would do the same thing I did, but without bulletproofing. I'm not an idiot, and I'm not reckless either. That was calculated.” You explain, and Bucky tosses his duffel bag into the corner of the room. He sits down on the foot of the bed, as if he's afraid to touch you.

“Don't ever do that to me again.” It's so soft, you almost aren't sure he said it. He turns to glare you down again. “All the things HYDRA did to me can never, will never compare to the way I felt when I thought he killed you. And I know that I wouldn't be able to handle losing you. So you better get your shit together, and cut that bullshit out. We've got a future to make together, one that can only be made if you are still breathing.” He rants, placing a hand on your leg.

“Sappy Barnes strikes again, now come here you big lunk. We've got Netflix to watch before I fall asleep.” You said, smiling at him. He complies, crawling into the bed, and arranging you so you're comfortable but not in any excess pain.

“Hey, wait a second. Did you just talk about our future in the most nonchalant way possible? Mister 40s value man. What are you saying?” You ask, grabbing the Stark pad to control the tv. Bucky twirls a finger in your hair, giving you a sly smile.

“I'm saying that we should get married.” The subtle way he said those lifestyle nuke words, had your heart racing. Between that and the sternum fracture you thought you might pass out. He gave you an expecting look, confirming it to be a question rather than the statement he'd made it out to be.

“I wanna make a joke about the sudden change in your demeanor, but I want to say yes, first.” You said, smiling brightly at him. He looked at you like he expected no less than one joke. “So that was just your reenactment of the Runaway Bride?” You snarled, and he laughed before leaning down to give you a gentle kiss.

Sometimes the person you'd take a bullet for is the one behind the trigger, or maybe sometimes it's the catalyst to the beginning of a happily ever after.

Tag list: @graysonmalfoy @dontyouforgetaboutme

[pixelonline]

(I am so sorry, mobile users. This is really long.)

My Mass Effect Andromeda thoughts:

1. I was gonna stream the trial, but proceeded to use almost all 10 hours at once because I couldn’t stop playing. I suppose this is a good thing. I’m definitely streaming it once it’s actually out.

2. I hate the character customization. Mass Effect has always been ugly as fuck when it comes to making characters, but my dudes it is 2017 what is going on here.

2a. Side note but I laughed for like 15 minutes that there is only one “White People” face and it is honestly the ugliest thing. Cool feature (sorta not but I’m viewing it as a positive) is that there are designated skin tones with each face set. Speaking of sets, all facial features are stuck to a specific preset face. You can slightly move them, but there’s no changing. I’m hoping this is just for the trial, as other things in the game were locked off until it’s official release.

2b. so many pony tails. no undercut. despite reports saying that hairstyles would be less militaristic as you’re not a soldier, they’re more or less the same. let me be the woman i want to be dammit. There were braids, but only one style. Still double the representation compared to previously I guess? I have very much so white people hair so I don’t feel comfortable having an opinion on that subject. I will say that the braids are exclusive to fem!Ryder and m!Ryder gets 2 different textured styles. I, personally, cannot wait for the beautiful mod community to fix this hair travesty, both with representation variation and all these fucking ponytails. Maybe they can make something happen with the faces, but I hold little hope. They had “alt” hair colors, so it’s already way better than ME Original Trilogy. My Ryder has blue hair, because of course she does. There’s not much shade difference in the colors available, and some of the unnatural colors were, in fact, so unnatural looking that it was hard to accept as a hair color. dyed hair doesn’t reflect light the way it did in game and it didn’t look like much shade variation between the strands so it occasionally looked like the hair hadn’t actually finished rendering. The color selection suggested a more soft ombre look than was actually present.

3. I like that you can customize your twin also, but limits on the CC still drives me crazy. Male hair diversity isn’t super, like I said before, but it just felt like more than the female counterpart. I just really, really hate ponytails you guys.

3a. In your CC options, you can pick story bits. The only options that connect to the previous games is a selection between your Shepard having been male or female. I suppose that’s so pronouns are correct later on.

4. Prologue: I feel it takes too long, the tutorial is honestly not that great. SAM, your AI, is down for most of it, so you have no idea what anything is. It was fine at first, adding to the worldbuilding and urgency and whatnot but it got irritating by the 30th “unknown” enemy.

5. The Omni-Scanner is a neat addition, but it felt sort of...forced at times. More on that later.

6. The prologue story is okay. The ending of it, and the beginning of the actual game, was actually pretty dramatic and I didn’t expect it given the hype around certain characters that Bioware has tried to generate.

6a. Dad Ryder seemed really one dimensional with his kid. Like, never referred to them affectionately even at the last bit. This is sort of explained when you go to his room later, but it felt really hollow to me as a whole. Cool dad fact: CC of your Ryder and their twin decides what Dad looks like. Mine had obscenely blue eyes but grey hair.

6b. Evil dude looked really sad during his introduction and I wanted to be friends with him. This feels like a failed attempt at showing off the ominous silent bad guy, as I immediately started rooting for him. You go, evil dude, touch the stuff and let your dreams be true.

7. I hate the weapon interface. Inventory functions like ME1, allowing you to see the items you’ve picked up (both upgrades and actual weapons) but you cannot equip them. I couldn’t until the first mission after getting my ship. Which is terrible, as I got a sniper rifle I wanted to use and couldn’t for the prologue portion.

8. The Hyperion’s travel system is awful. There’s very little instruction about it. The tram looks as if it’s a one way thing, from the ark to the new citadel-like port, but in actuality you use it to travel around the ark itself too. Didn’t notice until my camera turned slightly to the right and another thing on the board was selectable.

8a. Not travel related, but you do get more info about the ending of the prologue and a new ongoing mission on the Hyperion. It felt like a bit of a slap. It’s all “Here’s this cool new power and a friend BUT ALSO FUCK YOU JON SNOW YOU KNOW NOTHING and you’ll never find out until you go look for these things randomly around. But not around here! Fuck you twice!” It was clearly created to push the story more later on, which is all fine and good, it just ticked me off at this moment.

9. The new Citadel is a goddamn mess. I’m not a huge fan of it right now, though what I’m 100% sure will happen is that as you make more homesteads, the place gets nicer until you’re at endgame and have a fully functional hub. I’ll like it more once it starts changing. It looks like it has really good potential. I hope it functions more than the keep in DA:I, and your choices really DO have an effect on what is opened up and how the society there builds itself.

9a. The Original Trilogy made each race very distinct, with their own speech patterns and everything. I didn’t really get that from this game’s other races. The Salarians didn’t speak in fast bursts with lots of words jammed together, and the Turians more often than not didn’t have that robotic twinge to their speech, and weren’t all that hostile. It seems unlikely to me that there wouldn’t be any left over anger as they left for Andromeda seeing as it’s possible some actually fought in the first contact war. It is about 30 years apart. It was something constantly prevalent in the previous trilogy, which every NPC lived during (at least ME1)

9b. I do, however, love super not Krogan Krogan lady. She’s perfect and I wish I could romance her. You do talk about the genophage. Sucks that she and her clan have no idea that there’s been a cure for over 500 years now.

10. The ship, Tempest, is really nice. I always felt like Normandy was very irritating to navigate around. ME1 especially, but 3 wasn’t so hot either. This one isn’t as large, but it has a really nice flow that I liked. Pathfinder quarters were way better than Shepard’s.

10a. It has a system like the Dragon Age: Inquisition war table where you have timed missions that NPC complete for materials, items, and intel. Seems interesting, but I didn’t see one to completion. They’re still running.

10b. the R&D table is interesting, and I like the separation between the two, but it didn’t feel like a huge asset so early in the game.

11. The traveling system is beautiful. Visually it gets 100% approval. However, it’s extremely slow paced. any selection of a new planet or system takes you back to where you were originally, lets you stare at it a moment, then flies you to the next place where you zoom in for another moment before zooming out and then FINALLY getting information about it. It’s nice, but by the 12th time I was incredibly tired of it.

12. Your Salarian pilot is cool. Not especially Salarian-like, but still I liked him. Cannot kiss. I tried.

13. Material gathering is kind of limited. You scan a whole system, and you have the option to scan planets, but there’s not much point to it as SAM tells you if there’s something worth scanning there. Usually it’s a single deposit of a mineral.

14. I hated the MAKO in ME1, but this one isn’t so bad. I think it helps knowing that I can customize it later.

15. Speaking of customization, you can change the colors of your casual clothes and your armor. It’s the same color selection tool as in CC, so it’s awful. The dial to change the color overlaps with the bubble to select the actual shade so there’s a lot of trial and error involved. Once again, no indication that [SPACE] is necessary to confirm your color choices. I hate the whole design of it.

16. You do meet some companions that you’ll pick up, but you barely interact with them. Good intros though. Really gave them personality right off the bat.

17. ROMANCE: Being fem!Ryder is rough at the start.

17a. Gil is one of the ship’s crew. He’s one of the few genuinely attractive males in all of Mass Effect’s history. As a woman, you can flirt with him, but he turns you down solidly. He’s kind, but firm. He states that he’s interested in men. Which is awesome, because now I have a reason to play a male Ryder after my first play through is done. Female Ryder apologizes, nothing is weird (unlike other interactions) and it actually made me like him more as a character.

17b. Liam kind of blows off your advances but it definitely felt like a rejection. As he wasn’t very clear, I don’t know if he’s a bi character that you have to develop a friendship with first, or if he’s gay and just doesn’t want to come out to your Ryder. I didn’t like the wishy-washiness of the interaction but we’ll just have to see what’s what when the full game is out.

17c. Doc. I forgot her name, so now she’s Doc. I knew this interaction wouldn’t go well, as I’ve read articles about it. She definitely turns you down because you’re a patient. I’ve read that she has a crush on the Krogan that joins you, so is he not a patient too? Either way, she’s very professional about it and as with Gil it made me appreciate her character. Knowing that it’s Natalie Dormer and I’ll never hear her tell me she loves me hurts me deep in my soul though. Why does the world hate me like this???

17d. Blonde biotic woman with the goddamn hair that I want on my Ryder. Cora. I don’t like her. You have the option to hit on her early on, and her reaction felt really awful to me. She gets kind of hostile and all “I already told [person you never met] that I’m not interested in women and I’m telling you too.” Like, ok. Damn. You aren’t my type anyways. I just wanted to see the option play out. 0/10 poor way to handle the interaction. I’m not super fond of the Asari commando thing either. Jack was a kickass biotic too and she was treated like a monster. This woman gets to take part in something very culturally specific like it’s nbd? jnasdlfknasdivhbna, not a fan of her. She looks somewhere between confused and murderous all the time. Also, she walks like Stretch Armstrong. It makes me laugh.

17e. Vetra. The only individual that actually reacts positively to fem!Ryder flirting with her. Even then she really only takes it like a compliment. But, as I love Vetra and much like Garrus I would die for her from first glance, I’ll take it. I think it’ll be a beautiful relationship. She’s also really tall. And pretty. One thing I thought was strange with her is that it always looks like she’s posing when she’s just standing around. One hip is thrust out and her arms are crossed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they rigged her to always be in mysterious seductress pose.

17f. I couldn’t flirt with the pilot. Let me kiss the Salarian, damn you Bioware. Also, our nice Scottish friend Suvi can’t be flirted with, but she sounds really soothing to talk to. I’m def a fan of all these non-American, thicker than previously heard, accents on the ship. The Original Trilogy was full of light British accents or full on American. Sort of hard to believe the Alliance was multinational when everyone spoke like they were from the US.

18. Combat: I mostly use the sniper rifle and the pistol. Pistol was nice. I love the sniper rifle in this game. Other ME games it was hard for me to confirm headshots but this one was a clean and clear animation. Very nice. The companion AI was strange at times, as they’d just use their abilities but in odd places so the skills would get stuck in corners or just go off to nowhere. There was combat stutter on the first planet you can visit but I think that’s more my graphics card. The update refuses to finish so I’m stuck 2 updates behind where I should be.

I have, like, an hour I think left so I’m gonna try to rush through a male Ryder play and see how companion reactions differ. I’m really only in this for the romance, you know.

[puppy-the-mask]

Undertale Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Horrortale Papyrus, StoryShift Papyrus, Mafiatale Papyrus, Gaster Sans, Gaster Papyrus, Swapfell Papyrus(red. or purple, or gold, or all 3) Do they have a favored personality that they like/love/want in a human S/O? ((answer what you can))

Okay so I did most of these but for the life of me couldn’t pin Paper, Sniper, or Blue down so for now they are a mystery =w=‘’ I also did all 3 of my SF Paps

Chef- Someone who isn’t afraid to show and/or tell him how much he means to them, gestures like that mean a lot to him. He’s a complete Dad friend so having someone to be the parent friends with would be perfect. Will be nervous about PDA at first, but he really likes it, So basically a loving/affectionate S/O would be his kryptonite, he hopes they like gifts because he will make them so many things. He likes little crafts and things he can do with his hands, especially if they’re kind of mindless in that he can binge a show with said S/O while he does them. Mayhaps his lovely S/O has similar passions, if they did he’d love to participate or even for them to just tell him about them. 

G- G wants a travel buddy, someone that loves to try new things and enjoys their life to the fullest. His S/O has to be able to keep up with him and his constantly expanding list of plans for new adventures. They’d also have to be at least a little assertive, G is the kind of guy to let his partner set the pace and go from there, he’s adaptable like that. 

Aster- Someone with patience, if they aren’t having to wait for free time through his somewhat busy schedule then they’re sitting through his rambling. He’s a mutterer and gets carried away sometimes, he gets embarrassed about it if you stop him but if you’re actively paying attention and ask questions or, dare he dream, join him? You’re not getting rid of him, plain and simple. But it’s okay because when you see the utter glee on his face from having someone to share his tangents with you’ll never want that to happen anyways. 

Rus(Swapfell)- Rus is a sucker for physical contact and sappy romance, so any S/O for him would have to like hugs and cuddles and all that other fun stuff. He likes being reassured he’s loved and the best indicator to him is contact. It’d also be best that they weren’t a neat freak, if they’re constantly cleaning up his messes (even when he says he’ll get to them, which he will). Between feeling guilty for inconveniencing them and like they’re babying him Rus would end up completely suffocated. So someone easygoing and just as sappy as him, them being willing to experiment with him on various hobbies would also be a plus. 

Slim(Cas!Swapfell)- Slim wants someone who he can fluster the FUCK out of, he lives for those pretty red blushes and any embarrassed squeaks and sounds that come with them. He’d prefer someone shorter than him for kabedon purposes but considering he’s 7’3 slouching most people are. Despite his Extra Curricular Activities Slim actually doesn’t care very much about sex, but he does need romantic intimacy- like couch cuddles and hand holding. His S/O can’t have a problem with PDA, public is where he gets to situation-ally flirt and tease them and if he isn’t able to he will explode into a grumpy bone pile. Not really but his face will be blank and emotionless and he may start thinking that they’re embarrassed to be seen with him for whatever reason, so them being romantic and close with him in public really makes him happy. They’ll also have to be patient, it takes Slim a long while to warm up to people and with his stoic and apathetic persona he’s hard to read if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

Mutt(Purpfell)- Someone who will tell him to cut his shit out, He acts how he does to mess with people. They’d have to stand up to him to even get him intrigued in them enough for a meaningful relationship. He’ll try and push boundaries to see how far he can go, he knows he’s a pain in the ass and needs to be taken down a peg. But once they get past all the tricks and games, he wants someone who’s kind and genuine, he’s dealt with enough fake people for one lifetime thanks. Mutt wants someone that he can spend a lazy day with while Rant yells at them from the kitchen to stop idling around, or who will playfully encourage his bro with said yelling from the doorway- he’s not picky. Him and his brother are a package deal, so you’ll also have to get along well with Rant too.

[blogginqueen-blog1]

Tinder nightmare: a swipe to the right, gone wrong.

If you have been avoiding the news, its kind of hard to avoid this one. The war between Troy and Greece has finally come to an end. Today as we celebrate the end of a war. Let's go down the memory lane to what started this whole mess in the first place.

So we all know Helen of Sparta right? It is a little hard to avoid the name even if you aren’t into the gossipy stuff. Only more famous than even the Kardashians, Helen of Sparta is a Victoria secrets model and voted as the most beautiful woman in the world five times in a row by Vogue. She’s married to the president of Greece, Menelaus. He’s Your typical rich older guy dating the younger women. Menelaus is known to be well, quite the ass. From causing political turmoil in the already unstable nation of Greece, he also has a very prominent track record with the ladies, thanks to his sizable wallet. Thank god he’s only here to stay in parliament for a five-year term! But rumors say that he became quite smitten with the Victoria Secrets beauty even stopping his playboy antiques. Nevertheless, if you were wondering why on earth Helen married an old rich douche, it seems that she started thinking the same too.

Soon after their multimillion-dollar wedding, Helen started to feel a tad bit bored. How someone can get bored with a luxurious penthouse, unlimited Wi-Fi and Netflix subscriptions is beyond me, but let’s ignore that for now. if she only she had just stayed out of trouble and binged watched the Game of Thrones, the deaths could have been minimized to just onscreen. Bored with her new husband, Helen decided to create a tinder account for some harmless flirting. Aha, this is where all the trouble starts.

Here, Helen meets the handsome bloke Paris. Who’s not just any guy easy on the eyes. He’s the son of Priam, president of Troy. If Helen was the prettiest girl in school, Paris would be the hot guy that all girls swooned over. You could almost say that it was a match made by the goddess of love herself, Aphrodite. What began as a swipe to the right, transformed to what some call ‘forbidden love’. Like any other tinder couple, Paris and Helen were very eager to meet each other. Unfortunately, the pesky paparazzi who always follow the lives of the rich and famous became a huge obstacle.

So the very love-struck Paris cooked up a very believable plan. He was going to talk trade negotiations with Greece on behalf of his father.  Now the tensions between the two nations, troy and Greece have always been there. But Priam had started to reach out to Menelaus to form an alliance. When Paris gets to Greece, Menelaus treats him with hospitability. Little does Menelaus know that his supposed ally has been making puppy eyes at his wife. Long story short; Paris and Helen become a little patient with this whole act and decides to flee. They made a quick getaway in Paris’s private jet (taxpayer funded by the way) into some posh beach resort in Troy. Menelaus comes home to find his young wife gone. Where does he search first ?; no, no he doesn’t call the on-guard security in the presidential mansion. He searches the internet. Aha, those paparazzi can sometimes be useful. When he finds the whereabouts of his wife, he’s beyond furious. 

Now Menelaus is infamous for having quite a bad temper. So what does he do next? He does any normal man would do when he finds out that his wife has run off with another man. Declare war. Yep, he totally skipped the couple counseling. It’s a real shame though, the trade ties between Troy and Greece were just on a mend and Menelaus was close to signing another agreement with Troy. We can say goodbye to that one. Your wife’s supposed adultery seems to be a sick excuse for war. But when your president is more of a dictator and a little bit of a psychopath, the people of Greece really don’t have a choice in the matter. Priam, known to be a chill guy accepts Helen as his daughter. However, he’s in for an unpleasant surprise when he learns that Menelaus has severed their trade ties and even worse has declared war. Now Menelaus has asked, quite strictly for America not to intervene in the feud between the two nations. He has even threatened to cut down on Greek exports to America. So, you see, America's hands are tied and they can’t perform their usual mediator duties. Now skipping forward, at the end of this gruesome 10-year the war sparked by a certain beauty, Troy has lost, and Greece is declared the winner. Some of you may feel a little surprised with the outcomes of the war, especially when Troy has a strong military and navy presence. How on earth did they lose? Let’s just say quite plainly: Menelaus cheated. How you may ask? With a specially made artificial intelligent horse designed to kill anyone in its path which by the way Menelaus gifted to Troy. 

Now we all know the doomed fate of Troy. Priam’s whole family is dead, including lover boy, Paris. All except poor Hecabe, Priam’s wife. As if being responsible for the countless deaths of many wasn’t enough, Menelaus is not ready to bathe in his victory just yet. But just before we move on, a few honorable deaths should be mentioned: the army general of Greece, Achilles’s life was taken by a long-distance shot of a sniper by Helen’s beau Paris. Greece’s most loved diplomat, Odysseus who birthed the idea of the artificial intelligent horse is said to have plans to return back to his wife. Unfortunately, no one has heard from him yet. He’s currently reported missing.

Menelaus is currently fighting with the Greek court to execute Helen for causing him a pass deal of trouble and a lot of his money, more like taxpayers money but whatever. If you are thinking, Helen is safe because the execution was abolished in Greece in 2004. Think again. Menelaus is the God damn boss and he will get his way one way or another. Now, of course, Paris’s mother who’s a lawyer has put her hatred of Helen aside and suggested that Helen should have a chance to plead her case.

Even after Hecabe decision to give Helen a ‘fair go’, Helen’s statement to the media came as a bit of a shock. This is her official public statement:

‘Perhaps, since you regard me as your enemy, you will not answer, whether I speak well or ill. But I will guess what charges you would level at me, And, since I too have things I would accuse you of, I will reply by weighing the one against the other. Hecabe here produced the first cause of our troubles When she bore Paris. Secondly, this city, and I, Were doomed by Priam, when he ignored the warning given By a dream of firebrands, and refused to kill his child. My next question I ask myself rather than you. What happened in my heart, to make me leave my home And my own land, to follow where a stranger led? Rail at the goddess; be more resolute than Zeus, Who holds power over all other divinities But is himself the slave of love. Show Aphrodite Your indignation; me, pardon and sympathy’

Well, well, who knew Helen had a poetic side. I think it’s fair to say that all of us are left a little confused with her statement. So, after a polite invitation to Helen to come to my blog, she has graciously accepted.

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