#and they showed promo art of him and he just had holsters

[smokeys-house]

they named a guy panchito pistoles and then took his pistoles away, what's that all about?

[resbangmod]

Resbang 2020 Promo, the Fifth

The Magic of Balance

presented by author: jgartist 916 [AO3]

and artist: @sami-guinea-arts​

Pairings: Death the Kid x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: strong language, violence, explicit gore, character death, fear, emotional abuse, partial/suggested nudity, mental illness

Summary:

Yin and Yang. Order and Chaos. Good and Evil. Opposites living in harmony. Perfect symmetry. It sounds so easy. So why then, does balance skew so drastically when the heart gets in the way? The lines that separate black and white blur behind barriers. Secrets that are meant to keep us safe actually keep us from those we love. Yin and Yang. Order and Love. Shinigami and Witch. Will these two hearts find balance or death?

Please enjoy the story preview below the cut!

“I’m sorry. I was just saying hi. I didn’t mean to scare him. I didn’t even think I could be so scary!” Her fingers pushed into her piercings through the fabric of her dress. She knew that kind of fear, felt that kind of fear, and memory of it clawed at her insides.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Crona has always been shy and nervous. Especially around new people.” He gave Eve another look over, golden eyes taking in every detail of her. Perfectly symmetrical. “That is one excellent costume. I almost believed you were the real thing myself.”

“Really?” a short nervous laughter caught in her throat. She rubbed her neck. “Thanks. I’ve- er- had it for a while.” Stupid. Why did I add that? Quickly trying to find something to change the topic she deflected to his costume. He wore black boot-cut slacks that allowed the spurs on his boots to show. An expertly tailored, crisp, white linen shirt bare sleeve garters with small skulls in the center. His thumbs were hooked into his belt where two empty leather holsters hung at his hips. “You’re quite the convincing … old west bandit?”

“Sheriff, actually.” He corrected with a smile, tipping the brim of his black hat to her.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She looked again at the left breast of his pinstripe vest. “Where’s your badge?”

He seemed to grimace and Eve briefly wondered if she said something wrong before he spoke. “I couldn’t make it symmetrical.” The fight to make it rest perfectly in the center of his chest had taken up a majority of his day before the party. Nothing he tried worked. The buttons on his shirt made the badge tilt off center. The metal was too heavy to rest at his collar like his skull brooch. The fabric of his vest was too thick to let the pin of the badge close properly. He very nearly marched out to get a second badge. He’d wear both to preserve his symmetry, one on his left breast, the other on his right. He even made his best effort to explain this to Patty and Liz. They didn’t find his argument compelling. Liz even dragged him downstairs to give his opening speech to his guests. He gave it promptly at 8PM, and he had timed it to be precisely eight minutes long; thanking everyone for coming, wishing they had a wonderful time, and telling them all where the kitchen and bathrooms were. It would have been perfect if BlackStar hadn't interrupted him. He should have expected BlackStar to do that. Should have planned for that inevitability but didn’t because of the badge.

“Do you still have it?” Eve asked blissfully unaware of the slowly building turmoil within Kid’s head.

He surrendered the badge to her. Of course he still had it. Nothing was going right, and nothing would until he found some way to make it right. He had been distracted tending to his guests, welcoming each personally and thanking them for coming, since his speech had been ruined. Now his mind returned to the cursed pin that taunted him. He had been bested; bested by a small, six pointed piece of metal. Worthless! Garbage! I should be kicked to the curb and left to be collected on garbage day. Kid’s mind spiraled. He was so caught up with how pathetically inferior he was, he didn’t notice Eve puck the hat off him. His hand instinctively reached up and began scratching at his head. The left side of his head where three white lines forever stood as a stain against his symmetry. Asymmetrical reaper scum! No- I didn’t deserve to be called a reaper. I didn’t deserve to inherit my father’s great legacy; continue his mission to preserve peace and maintain balance. How can I when I can’t even maintain my own balance?

“There!” Eve toned, presenting the hat back to Kid. The star rested perfectly in the center of the hat. She had pinned it to the band at the base, which was thin enough to accept the needle. The sturdy brim of the hat keeping the metal propped upwards. She offered it back to him, “Now it’s symmetrical.”

Now it was perfect. He thought, his mind calming. It was so simple. He thought with a smile. It wasn’t the polite host smile he wore, but a genuine smile. One he was now able to relax into. One that mirrored the charming curve that smoothed on Eve’s features as well. The answer he was searching for was staring him in the face.

[resbangmod]

Resbang 2019 Promo, the Fifteenth

i'm not a part of your machine

presented by author: soul-of-spades [ffn] [tumblr] [ ao3]

with artist: peregrine [tumblr]

and artist:  blinkfl0yd [tumblr]

Pairings: SoMa

Rating: R

Warnings: homicidal machines, minor character deaths, PTSD, blood/gore, violence, foul language, sexual content (not explicit), sexual assault

Summary: 

For 10 years now, Maka has lived in the shadow of Judgment Day, fighting alongside her father's resistance in the war against machines. She is desperate to prove herself, and when a rescue mission in enemy territory goes awry because of a mistake she made, guilt pushes her down a dangerous path. One paved with blood, homicidal machines (and people), an endearing stranger with no memory, a dopey Labrador, a strange boy with classified intel, and, above all, a choice - trust someone she loves, or destroy a potential threat to her resistance. Terminator Salvation AU.

Please enjoy the story and art previews below the cut!

Excerpt:

"We're not here to fight."

Look at him, pretending to be the voice of reason. The air of maturity surrounding him now doesn't suit him. Blake is a man of bad jokes, questionable style choices, and junk-grabbing howls. He is a wild child to his core. Perhaps Tsubaki - his maybe not, maybe so girlfriend - is really starting to rub off on him.

"Well, you're god awful at playing pacifist," she jabs, hoping to sway him to her favor. "You’re an assassin, right? So, help me destroy this thing before it finds the bunker." 

The com in her ear sparks to life. "Maka, Black Star has a point."

Ah, Tsubaki. Figures she'd take his side, even going as far as using his stupid code name. She likes to shy away from danger and acts as the team's moral compass, mostly. But when push comes to shove, she's dependable in a fight. Tsubaki knows her way around a blade - a katana that used to belong to her brother, she once told Maka when she had a little too much to drink. She's cleaved a terminator's head clean off before. Maka imagines her watching her and Blake from a second or third-floor window. She spotted the drone first.

"I don't know. Maka's right, this drone is wandering into our territory. Destroying it could save us some trouble in the long run."

She could always count on Liz's all-consuming paranoia to back her up in a pinch. Aside from her hot-wired survival instincts, the skittish girl is surprisingly good with a rifle in her hands. Her aim is almost always true. Maka trusts her above anyone else to watch her back from the rooftops. She imagines Liz's crosshairs are trained on either her or the drone right now, watching, waiting for confirmation.

"Your Pops said no firefights. I don't make the rules, and neither do you, pipsqueak." 

She silently curses him and his teenage growth spurt because life was so much easier when she was taller than him, damn it - especially in situations like this when he tries to disarm her with a tacky nickname that never fails to get under her skin. When he used to call her "tiny tits" back in the day, there was hell to pay. 

Suddenly, the answer dawns on her, always within her grasp. Must’ve slipped through the cracks during Blake’s feeble stab at acting “rationally,” if that’s even the right word for it. She could really use the old him, the Blake who took more risks and spat on the rules if they didn’t work for him. Maka hasn’t seen that version of him in a while. 

"You're not running point.”

His mouth drops into a frown. 

"Papa put me in charge of this Op. You listen to me." 

She says this more as a reminder to herself. For all his blabbering about playing it safe, Blake isn’t the one calling the shots. He’s used to being top dog, but not today. Papa handed her the reins to this search and rescue mission this morning. Nothing too risky, just checking on the outskirts for any survivors that slipped past inner-city machines. So really, it is her call. 

"Maka…"

"Hand me your skateboard," she orders. The little wooden death trap with wheels - branded with a blue star, of course - hangs off his backpack, calling to her as an idea starts to come together in her mind. 

"What?"

"Just do it."

"You heard the boss," Liz sing-songs over the com. "Cough it up." 

Blake begrudgingly listens and hands it over. "Don't hurt her."

"Don't worry, I won't break it." That isn't the plan, anyway. 

Maka places the board on the sidewalk and tests her footing on it, careful not to make too much noise. This type of drone is hyper-sensitive to movement more so than sound, but Skynet's machines are always evolving. She takes her pistol out of her gun belt holster - a gift from Papa - and brings it to her chest. She takes a deep breath. 

"What are you doing?" Blake asks, but she ignores him. 

Instead, Maka crouches down and lies on top of the board, stomach first, before flipping on her side. She takes another deep breath. The pistol shakes in her hands before settling, her finger resting on the trigger. This isn't the time to show fear, it's time to be brave. 

"Maka, you need to think before you act," Tsubaki says, the angelic voice of reason. "This is dangerous."

This is war, Maka wants to say back, but it goes unsaid. 

Suddenly, Blake catches on. What a shame that Tsubaki's intuition for bad decision-making didn't rub off on him, too. 

His eyes are wide with panic. "Maka, don't - " 

If you want something done right, do it yourself.

Please look forward to i’m not part of your machine, coming soon to a resbang near you!