#punches the fuck out of piers

[viviebeevie]

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[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Military Service

Final chapter spoiler! G/N. Fluff.

Your presence slips into stories with other troops. Places you visited together, things you both experienced, time spent side by side.

"Did you used to hang out at the arcade on your own?" A fellow soldier asks Taehoon.

Taehoon thinks of your face lit up in the artificial glow, his battle victories and KO reflected in your eyes. He responds to the question with a shrug.

It used to be true, after Do Woon, then it wasn't true at all once he met you.

.

.

"Are you stupid? Of course Haeundae beach is the best!" A voice pipes up amidst the mess hall chatter.

"Boring." Someone else dismisses, "Everyone always goes there. Overcrowded."

Overcrowded. 

That's one way to put Taehoon's time with you and the Yoo Hobin Company at Daecheon beach, another well known tourist spot.

He spent most of the time annoyed on the train journey, irritated on the sand, shoulder barging people on the pier, and growling at men ogling you for too long.

But then you two ended up drinking on the pier alone that night; you swaying from drinking too much and Taehoon stone cold sober-

"You're really bad tempered you know," you narrow your eyes at Taehoon, who whips his head round at your slurred speech and scowls, "and your personality is definitely something. You're abrasive and mean and hotheaded." 

Taehoon’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline at this unprovoked attack.

"How you have any friends I don't even know. It's like people are attracted to you being an asshole. I suppose I can't talk." You tap your chin, deep in thought and oblivious to how much he looks on the brink of storming off, "Though... I guess you're sweet in your own way. You're cute too. Especially when you pout. I don't pout!" You taunt, in a tone eerily similar to his and you cackle at your own hilarious impression.

Taehoon subtly stops his bottom lip jutting out.

"And you look after me. Even if you also deny that." You direct a drunken grin his way, and don't notice that he doesn't look mad anymore. You didn't even realise he was mad in the first place. "Your disrespect for my personal space is sometimes infuriating too but often hot." You take a swig of your beer muttering, "I don't know why I'm telling you this." 

Taehoon smirks, leaning into your space, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilting you up to face him.

"Hot, huh?"

"Asshole," you breathe. You don't know whether the rush of blood to your cheeks is a result of the alcohol or something else.

Taehoon arches an eyebrow, incredulous at your audacity. "I'm the asshole? After everything you just said? You want me to beat you up?"

You huff, looking anywhere but him. "I don't really think you're an asshole. Most of the time. I think I just... I really like you."

You had your first kiss that night. 

You always tell everyone you don't know who kissed who, and Taehoon is surprisingly gentlemanly enough not to say. 

But you remember leaning in first, feeling his gasp-turned-chuckle-turned-sigh on your lips.

.

.

His lungs are on fire, heart thumping in his ears, sweat dripping down his face 

Put through his paces with an 80lb pack on his back, paying for his cocky attitude in the first month to his superiors.

He feels their eyes, impressed though lips curled, as he finishes the 6am drills first yet again. 

"Shit!" Taehoon turns to see a private finishing behind him, a good minute slower, before dropping to all fours and dry heaving.

"H-How the fuck are you so fast? Who did you train with?"

Technically his dad. Taehoon gives his answer, clipped and curt.

What he doesn't mention is you sitting in the dojo all those evenings and nights and early mornings too. In the corner on your laptop, surrounded by books, half falling asleep. Or simply - watching.

What he also doesn't mention, nor has he ever confessed, is that your presence spurs him on to work harder, kick harder, punch harder.

If just for the way your face lights up, mouth forming an 'o', the occasional applause when he's been particularly impressive.

He calls you cringe every time.

Yet he has never mentioned how his chest puffs with pride at your praise, but he thinks it may have been obvious anyway.

.

.

Taehoon spots you, back to him, gently swaying to the music on your own. No doubt eyes on Rumi and Wangguk’s first dance as husband and wife, like everyone else.

Your hair looks longer, though of course it is. It's been months.

Self consciousness creeps in. Taehoon wonders if you mind that he hasn't had time to change, his bomber jackets untouched for so long. He wonders if you will like his hair, short and natural, military standard.

Most of all-

If you will still feel the same. After all, young love is fickle, flighty, fleeting.

He swallows down his nervousness and ignores the fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

You feel an arm curling round your waist. The weight of the hand and the heat of the embrace you've dreamt about for nights on end.

"I've been waiting for you," you whisper.

Taehoon kisses you. It feels like the first time, on the sun bleached pier, all those years ago.

Except, he leans in first. 

The softness of your lips just as he remembers, and tonight, he feels your pleased sigh ghosting his skin.

[veala2]

“ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ꜱʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴꜱ.”

✸ shanks n’ buggy ✸

SYNOPSIS - Being in a relationship with 2 pirate emperors is great, but one aspect that comes with a pirates life is a pirates thirst… no, not that kind, you dog!

CW - gn!reader, obviously there’s some intoxication on both sides, reader is explicitly said to be puking, Buggy is doing some dumb shit, shenanigans ensue.

A/N - I’m back from the dead (work), ready to deliver and slowly (painfully) write my next fic (Christmas themed?)

Probably the first to get black out drunk between the two of you.

He’s been a pirate for most of his life, and drinking was a pleasure he so stereotypically enjoys!

So, when you see his flushed face and goofy smile, you couldn’t help but indulge in his silliness. Letting him play with your hair or kiss you all over your face.

But… when the roles are reversed, he’s 100% on you to make sure nothing happens.

It’s not that he thinks you’ll do something crazy while drunk, no no. Rather, it’s what others would do that scares him.

Pirate bars are filled with crude men swinging their swords around, starting rowdy bar fights which leads to terrified bar owners and civilians to evacuate.

Yes he can take care of you with a simple look- his strong conquers haki coming in play- but he’d rather keep the chance of you safe as high as possible.

“Baby… baby, I’m fine, let me gooo…”

You whines fall on deaf ears, as Shanks adjusts you in his arms once again to make sure your head wouldn’t strain. He chuckles as he makes his way down the wooden steps out of Makino’s Bar, the pounding sound of laughter and drunk men filling his ears.

“I’ll let you go once we’re at the port. There’s no way I’m gonna let you throw up on me again.” He laughs, making you clip your tongue and rub your eyes.

“I didn’t even throw up on you!” You retorted. Which brought another chuckle out of him.

He can remember that scene like it was five minutes ago. Well, maybe because it was five minutes ago. He might be a little drunk himself.

Brushing off the warnings of having too many shots, you took your 21st and started to feel nauseous. Before he could drag you away before you hurled up yesterday’s breakfast. Which happened before he could even get out a word. Leaving him disgusted, but even more worried.

“Sweetheart, trust me, I’m not taking that risk again.” He says, planting an endearing kiss swiftly on the top of your forehead, pulling away at the smell of vomit, Making his nose scrunch up.

Shanks sat you down on the pier of Foosha Village. Rubbing soothing circles on your back, letting you take your course. The night sky shined when it hit the slow waves of the sea, a sky littered with stars. A calm, serene night he loved. Especially with you cuddling into his side.

“Are you feeling better, baby?” He asked, a decimal over a whisper. You nod, groaning into his shoulder.

“Good. Let’s get you home and clean up. And maybe apologise to Makino tomorrow morning if she catches us. Other than that, we can always outrun her fury.”

You let out a weak giggle, despite you still feeling not so great. He holds you in a tight grip, sighing happily and looking up to the sky. Allowing himself to indulge in the beauty of the night sky and the beauty that sits right next to him.

“Remind me to bring a bucket next time.” He jokes, landing him a swift punch to the arm and a goofy smile on his face.

Drinking with him has two outcomes:

Either you’re having good times! A couple of laughs, maybe making some great memories that overlap with some of the more confusing ones of drinking with him.

Or… You’re doing the most batshit crazy thing you’ve ever done in your life.

WITH HIM JUST STANDING THERE.

HELLO!?

When I tell you drunk Buggy can take over the world if he so pleases, I mean it

That man has no inhabitions, no thoughts, just a pure drive to do whatever the FUCK he wants for the next 24 hours.

You wonder how such a cowardly clown can become so brave by just a couple of shots.

And honestly, you can be the same way too. It’s not hard to get caught up in all the excitement and thrill of doing shots with a pirate group and almost ending up with a broken limb.

But MAN-

It’s a really mind boggling thing… Like, you could write a psychology paper on it.

“BUGGY, DON'T YOU DARE MOVE!”

“Huh!?”

Your shouts echo the inside of his towering circus top. There your boyfriend was, drunk off his mind due to some of the finest whiskey found in the Grandline (which he happily took), and placing his left leg inside the brightly human- cannonball. He looks back at you, confused but then displaying a goofy smile.

“Aw, c’mon, baby! It’ll be so much fun, just keep watching!”

The older pirate doesn’t stop himself from doing what he wants, and fully places himself inside the cannon, wriggling around as to get comfy. One of his lackies cackles as he reaches for a match, striking it upwards and starting the fire. Your heart only beats louder and faster at the sight of the small flame.

Of course it didn’t occur to you, that the moment that Buggy the Clown asked you to be his partner, you would have to be his temporary mother when he was shit faced on most Tuesday nights.

But, it’s not too hard to keep him in place most of the time. All he wants are some private cuddling, maybe some kisses and words of affirmation. And don’t worry, when the roles are reversed he’ll do anything to help you, too.

Unfortunately today, he decides to act like a crazed toddler.

Too bad he isn’t, it would be easier to wrangle him up.

“Buggy, baby, love of my life,” You start, slowly inching closer towards the red- faced man as he stared at you with lidded eyes and curiosity. “I really need you to step out of that cannon before you blow to infinity and beyond.”

Then there was silence.

And then there was laughter. A drunken one, slurred and almost high.

“I’ll be fine, I’m Buggy the genius- fuckin’- jester! hit it!”

It was too late, the match lit the tiny rope at the end, as it quickly rises towards where the gunpowder lies.

You plug your ears and close your eyes, not wanting to even look or hear the maniac jester shoot up into the circus top’s top, rip past the fabric and blast off again.

Oh yes… again.

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 8)

A/N: Can we talk about how cute this gif is pls he’s so adorable 🫶🏻

Synopsis: Yn realizes that Conrad still cares about her, i’m more ways then one.

—

Conrad was always the protector. My protector. From the time we were little kids, and even till now.

When I was 14, this guy tried to hit on me at the pier. Susannah and Laurel were off with Belly, Jere and Steven getting ice cream inside. Conrad and me were waiting outside but Conrad went to use the bathroom.

This guy, who looked 16 or 17 came up to me and started talking to me. It was the weirdest thing ever.

“Hey, you new around here?” I didn’t know what to say to him because I was almost 15, but I didn’t think I looked like it.

“Uh, no.” I say quickly. He shakes his head and sits down next to me. I felt his shoulder touch mine, and I looked around to find Conrad but couldn’t.

“So, got any plans? We should totally hangout.”

No. no.

“Uh, actually i’m here with my family—”

“I’m sure they won’t mind.” He says it more forcefully and then grabs my wrist which makes me wince. Luckily, he got there in time.

Conrad grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him against a bench, people staring to stare.

“Don’t fucking touch her, ever.”

The guy laughed, “Oh i’m sorry, is this your girlfriend?”

Conrad then punched the guy. Like actually punched him and there was blood on his knuckles.

The guy then stood up and surrendered his hands, moving away from us and down the pier. Conrad immediately came over to me and sat close, while a soft look pulled over his face.

I had never seen him get so angry before. His hair had fallen in front of his face, and he looked hot. Very hot.

“Are you okay?” He says while checking my face with his hands for any injuries. I laugh and grab his hands, putting them to his sides.

“I’m fine. I should be asking if your okay?”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine. I’m sorry for leaving you. I promise, no one will touch you again.”

I nod and then when everyone came out, we acted like nothing happened. Ever.

—

That next morning, I woke up really early. I grabbed my blue strip aviator nation jacket and some spandex. I opened my phone to see it was only 5:45am but I had 7 missed calls from Frankie.

Ugh. I can’t even.

There was also a couple of texts. I must have crashed early because I didn’t see these when I went to bed.

Fran: u little slut! when u wake up tell me what happened on Bells birthday.

Fran: r u dead?

I laugh as I read the texts but my face turns serious when I see another one.

Conrad: meet me by the beach tomorrow morning?

I immediately felt this rush. This wanting.

I tip toed my way downstairs and out the back door before walking to the beach. I let the cool air hit my face and then I saw Conrad laying on the sand.

I walked over to him, sitting down. He sat up in the sand and moved closer to me so that our shoulders were touching.

“Hey there.” He says through a half smile.

I nudge his shoulder a little bit before looking out at the water. “Conrad?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about how I acted at the Marina.” I recall the events from yesterday, and Dean was not happy when he found out me and Sarah were high. He blamed it on Sarah though because it was her blunt.

He shrugs, “Nah it’s fine, i’ve been the ass this whole summer.”

Same old Conrad. Always taking the fall.

He was so much taller than me. Even when we were sitting in the sand. I wasn’t the tallest, in fact that’s all Steven would bully me about. How I was older than Belly but she was a little taller than me. Conrad was at least 6’1.

“So why’d you wanna meet?”

I saw Conrad fidget with his fingers, and I knew he was getting nervous. “Con?”

“Do you remember?” He blurts out. He doesn’t have to specify anything at all. Of course I know what he’s talking about.

“Con—”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” I answer sharp and quick hoping that this conversation can be done for.

“That’s all I wanted to know.”

Is he serious? That’s all he wanted to know? What the fuck.

I just shook my head and got up, walking back towards the house. I didn’t bother to see Conrad’s face when I left.

—

so you just left?!

I rolled my eyes as I listened to Frankie rant over the phone at how stupid I am. It was funny.

“Frankie, I’m not putting up with his bullshit anymore.”

don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t have to when I come down there for your birthday.

“absolutely not. that’ll make things worse.”

Then at least let me act like boys are obsessed with you at him, which there are. Atlas wont shut up about you.

Atlas is this hot football jock in our friend group who’s been obsessed with me. I’ve never felt it at all.

Before I can answer Belly comes in the room and I smile, “Okay gotta go Frankie.”

She goes to protest but I hang up.

Belly sighs, “Has she maybe talked to Taylor since she got back? We aren’t really speaking.”

I shrug, “Taylor and Frankie hate each other. I doubt it.”

Belly nods and we stand there in silence until I decide to break it. “We should do something.”

Belly’s face lights up which makes my heart warm, “We could go into town, maybe get some muffins before everyone gets up?” I then looked at my clock and it was 8:15. Almost two hours since I saw Conrad. I wondered where he was, even though I shouldn’t.

“Sounds perfect.” I say.

So here me and Belly were walking down the pier with ice cream in our hands. I had a strawberry and she had a chocolate. It was silent, but at least we were doing something.

Me and Belly were like sisters from birth. Luckily, John and my mother were always close growing up, which meant that we would hang out all the time. I even came up to the summer house when I was 3 and 4. So, I’ve basically been coming here the same amount.

We’ve told each other everything. I remember when I had my first kiss. I was 14 and it was late may, right before we went to cousins. Even though it was a dare, I was still freaking out.

“Belly!” I ran into her room. It was 11 at night and it was also 2 nights before we left for cousins.

“What?” She says through a groggy voice.

I jump onto her bed and pull her up straight. “I just had my first kiss.”

“WHAT?” Belly screams but I put my hand over her mouth and her words are muffled.

That night, we sat up talking for hours about crushes and first loves, but we never mentioned Conrad. I felt guilty, because Belly always loved Conrad, but I couldn’t lie.

So did I.

We were best friends, and I eventually realized it bothered Belly, the “invisible string” that Susannah had claimed was there with me and Conrad.

Maybe in a way, it’s better this way? I can get Belly back now that things are over with Conrad.

But then reality seeps in, and I realize after last summer, If Belly found out, nothing would ever be the same again.

—

After hanging out by the pier, me and Belly went our separate ways the rest of the day. The fourth of July was soon, which was Susannah’s favorite holiday. I saw some fireworks in the kitchen earlier which got me excited.

The sun was setting and everyone always seemed to be doing their own thing these days. Steven out with Shayla or at the club with Jeremiah, Belly hanging out with Cam, and Conrad… smoking or with Nicole. I felt kinda blah.

To my surprise, Conrad was in the kitchen. I sent him a small smile and saw he was making crepes. Strawberry crepes.

This damn guy.

Strawberries have been my favorite fruit since I was a little girl. Susannah used to joke I would become one. Some birthdays, Conrad would take me to the pier and get some chocolate covered strawberries.

My face lit up, “Is that what I think it is?”

He smiles a little, and it was the most innocent and pure smile i’ve seen from him all summer. “I was in the mood for them.”

“Well, then you’ll have to understand I’ll be taking one—” I go to grab one but he smacks my hand away.

“Nope.”

I frown, “Why! There’s four right here.”

“Why would I give you one?” He says through a smirk.

“Just because.” I go to grab one again but this time Conrad physically moves in front of me creating a walls between me and the crepes.

“Conrad!” I groan. His hair was falling in front of his face and was messy, always my weakness.

“Just let me have a crepe.” I whine. He shakes his head and then I attempt to grab one in between his stomach and arms but this time he grabs me by the waist and picks me up.

“Conrad! Put me down!” I try not to laugh but it doesn’t work. I can’t help it.

“Nope. Never.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and tug at his hair, put he doesn’t put me down. My head was barried in his neck and his arms were on my waist still.

Eventually I give in until he puts me down on one of the chairs, and his smile was so wide I thought I might die.

“Here. Take one.” He says, putting a crepe on a plate and handing it to me.

We sat there and ate the crepes in silence but it wasn’t a bad silence anymore. It was kinda fine.

Then I realized not being like this with him isn’t the best option, and no matter how much I love Belly, I love Conrad too. Sometimes it feels like he’s apart of me. Like a piece of my heart will always beat for him.

I suddenly felt more lost than I have in a while.

—

A/N: Poor yn, lmao. Fourth of July episode next 😉

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle

[multifandommilfs]

Perks of Living Forever

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 1834

Tw: death but they ressurect because immortality :)

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"who's that?" Nile held up a photoframe that encased a black and white picture of you and Andy posing together, her arm around your waist and yours hung around her shoulder. Andy seemed genuinely blissed and sober with a gaze from you directed to her. There was something intimate about it, Nile could tell, for your gaze held such affection, pure content by the meek crinkle of your eye. The photo seemed accidental, captured on the spur of the moment.

 

Nile turned the frame between her fingers in the direction of the team in her outstretched arm, seeing how Andy averted her eyes instantly, Joe and Nicky chuckling wryly. Andy snatched up her bottles of vodka and crossed the room, right out to the pier. Nile had her confusion thinly veiled.

 

"That's uh-" Joe scratched the back of his neck, his eyes finding Nicky's, an affirmation garnered. "Andy's lover. Taken quite recently I'd say. A year or two before World War Two, she got her hands on a camera, never told us how she did it, that's the first picture in our team. I'm quite proud that I took it." Nicky punched his arm lightly, eliciting chuckles. "We took it together!"

 

"A year before- why isn't she with Andy? With us? Is she-"

 

"We wish, but she's too stubborn for death itself." Nicky righted her.

 

"They had a disagreement on who they supported during the Second World War; you see- she had a psychopathic streak that longed for world dominion, took sides with Germany and went off the grid after the war ended. We couldn't find her but Andy persisted that she's alive, she was there for every soldier's death."

 

"Why hadn't you told me about it before? Why keep this from me?" She felt like a pariah, like the camera that captured the picture in her grasp, intruding on something that wasn't privy to her.

 

Nicky and Joe exchanged a conflicted glance. "We don't like to talk about it."

___________

Goussainville, just outside of Paris, September 2, 1940. A cacophony of gunshots hollered throughout the Charlie safe house, hauling them awake from sleep instantly, hearts pounding loudly in their ears, contrasting their silent footsteps that threaded fast on the wooden floorboards, pistols angled downward in their stiffly outstretched arms.

 

Book slammed his shoulder into Andy's room, a damp splat onto the ground as it broke off from its rusty hinges. "Oh shit." Book swore. The smell of metallic blugeoning them in the face. "Foterre!"

 

"What is it?" His chest heaving, the sight obscured by his two tall friends provided him with more consternation before they parted and he almost retched.

 

Andy, chest flat against the floor, lips dipped in a spreading puddle of her own blood, they could see the cragged outline of her blown-apart skull; the flesh gave way to bullets.

 

They stared, drenched in their own shock. Nicky made the first move, hands turning her on her back, the Glock in her hands slipping out of her loose grasp was it then that he realized the true extent of the injury and grimaced in disgust, recoiling away from the disfigured face, hair crusted with blood.

 

Then Booker lunged forward, rutting her against the ground by her shoulders. "Wake up Andy! Wake the fuck up!"

 

A wheeze and splutter filled them with immediate relief. They looked on as the trauma healed itself familiarly, flesh filling out the hollow, skin sticking itself back together as her pupils adjusted to the light. Booker released her, trembling from adrenaline, from fear. Nicky reached for Joe's hand and held it in a vice grip. They could see the disappointment clearly in her eyes as she heaved herself off the floor, tucking the gun into the back of her jeans. "Get back to sleep boys." Her tone of voice reminded them of a failed mission as she staggered for the bathroom.

______

 

Nile looked between the lovers, then out of the window to see Booker and Andy. She held a reassuring smile on her face to quell his tears. She could tell that they were going to split up; Booker would have to craft his own path, a consequence of his treachery that harboured a pure goal at heart. "She'll make it into a bedtime story when she's ready, or perhaps you'll dream about it." Nicky chided, throwing Nile a half-grimace smile. She really had to give it to Nicky's welcoming nature for the instant comfort she felt.

____

Andy's arm acted as a barricade at the doorframe, being the first to step past the threshold of their safehouse, stilling the rest of them.

 

"Someone's here." She kept her voice low, only audible to the ones behind her, her eyes left the haphazardly rolled-up mat by the doorway. Her gaze sweeping the darkened room, the shadows that drove up the walls made it all the more unsettling.

 

There was nothing, not even a whisper of wind from the window left ajar, but her hand readied on her gun, another hand reaching into the house at an awkward angle to slap the light switch on.

 

Light bathed the room in a blink, the darkness shrinking away to the corners. The hasty shuffle they heard then was unmistakable. Andy drew out her gun in an instant, the others following suit.

 

She zeroed in on the root of the noise, making a daring step onto the wooden floorboards despite Nile's less-than-erupting protest.

 

"You two keep watch." And Joe disappeared past the doorframe, Nicky's demurring trailing behind him.

 

Nile scrambled to the edge of the doorway; she had Andy and Joe at the corner of her eye now as they crept further into the house. She held her breath as Andy rounded the corner, bracing for a gunshot, a scream, something other than the heinous silence that was ceasing her breath, ladened on their shoulders and squeezing their throats.

 

She forced a breath in, adamantly staying calm even though she was anything but that. Then Andy said a name she didn't know, the silence perforated, Joe sprinting away from her view and Italian words were churning out of Nicky as he stepped past Nile and right into the house, his eyes wide as he shoved his gun back. Nike was compelled to follow without a word, her feet fast, gun pointed towards the floor by her thigh. Her heart beating fast in her chest at the urgency of others.

 

But it didn't need to last when she saw Andy, her arms wound around a silhouette so tightly that she would've thought it was a chokehold if it weren't for the pair of grasping hands pulling the back of her shirt taut.

 

The haste that passed her nerves was replaced with gnawing uncertainty, the feeling of intrusion coming back into her again as she watched Nicky and Joe being pulled into the embrace. Her heart twisted uncomfortably at the feeling, yet she couldn't help but watch as a raw sob escaped from one of you, pulling into each other unyieldingly.

 

When all of you broke apart, she scurried to the nearest couch.

 

She could faintly hear a watery chuckle, a few exchanged words that brimmed with affection and she wondered if she could ever find that kind of connection outside of the formed group. Immortality was the ultimate curse for someone who loved too much.

 

Nicky and Joe appeared in no time, hauling her away from her thoughts. "You should meet her." Joe offered. "The partner." Nicky filled in the spaces and everything seemed to click together too fast for Nile to handle. "What, really? That's the woman in the photo? Andy's wife?" She had to force her voice down from the shock.

_______

 

With Nick and Joe splitting away from the both of you to the girl you didn't know, your lips sought Andy's out. She stumbled backwards from the force, gasping softly before maneuvering you closer by your jaw, her actions tentative yet knowing. It was all familiar when you let half your weight on her, knees trembling as your arms hung around her shoulders. All familiar and fervent, filling yourself with what you missed for the last few decades.

 

She was quiet when you parted, her eyes glazed with affection as her thumb ran rounds from your cheek to your jaw. It was a warmth you had forgotten and arose tears that blurred your vision, your lips cracking into a smile.

 

"I don't think I've been so haunted by someone." You said it with mirth and she let out a scoff of wet laughter.

 

"Shut up with your poetry." She ducked her nose into the crook of your neck; you could feel her smile on your skin, her hand on your jaw dropping to another side of your shoulder as you held her.

 

When the adrenaline fell away, you remembered what you wanted to say during decades where you were manipulated by fear. Fear made you hunger for control and power. But you knew deep down that you couldn't ever be sorry for living that life. It was every human instinct to replace what was lost with something else. So you said so.

 

"I'm not sorry for wanting what I wanted." You whispered and felt her stiffen beneath your fingertips, the weight on your shoulder beginning to lift.

 

"But I am sorry for leaving." You got it out fast before she could look you in the eye and steal your courage, making you swallow your words. "So s- sorry." Your voice broke and you pushed your face into her shoulder with a sudden burst of tears as she rose from yours, catching you in time. "I'm so- I'm so sorry." Your lips twisted with ugly sobs and this time you didn't know if you were apologizing to her or yourself for putting the both of you through this torture.

 

A warmth smoothed over your back, her hand on your shoulder cupping the nape of your neck as her lips pressed against the crown of your head again and again and again. "I have nothing to forgive you for." She said. "But I cannot say the same for the others."

 

You nodded wordlessly in her clutch, tears soaking her sleeve. You laid against the damp fabric, listening to her pulse beating through bone and skin and basked in it, letting your breath level with hers as her fingers weaved through your hair, momentarily scratching your scalp.

 

"Lovebirds, an introduction is needed." Joe's words left you moving apart from each other, her hand finding its place on your waist as yours hung around her shoulder.

 

A girl stepped into your view, her eyes widening, a grin spreading across her lips as Andy became the medium of introduction.

 

"God, you look so much like the photograph!" She spilled with wonder tinted in her features. "I mean it's like you haven't aged a bit and that photograph was what- 10 years ago?"

 

"Perks of living forever." You glanced at Andy before shaking Nile's hand. "You never age."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Here's a link to my masterlist ^^

Comment, reblog, drop an ask! Feedback is greatly adored

[righteousinadversity]

So this is something that came up from both my Yiling Laozu meta and my analysis of the chapters referring to the Prison Camps, and that is -

The Yiling Laozu plays with children and sells radishes and farms in a mountain.

But SunShot Era WWX, is fucking terrifying.

SunShot Era WWX is the one you do not want to fuck with.

This man walks out of hell and brings the dead with him - and immediately leaves a death trail of cultivators as he hunts Wen Chao.

There is obviously the extremely gory torture scenes, but we are not going to touch all of that. Let's stay as PG-13 as we can.

All of the corpses were cultivators of the Wen Sect, dressed in sun robes. All of them were high in both rank and cultivation. In spite of so, all of them died in gruesome yet diverse ways, and all of them had been left in the public where many could see.

The man who returned from the Burial Mounds is perhaps much closer to the Yiling Laozu of Lore than WWX when he actually got the title. This is a man out for vengeance and blood - a man who you do not want to cross.

There is undoubtedly a lot of descriptors about WWX's effectiveness and ruthlessness in the war, like NMJ's memories for one. He had absolutely no issue digging up corpses to feed his army, or turning the dead wens into fierce corpses to be used in battle against the next wave of Wens. He was perfectly willing to punch the life out JZX after the soup incident.

So during the entirety of the Sunshot, the reputation he gets is earned, and is also the reason JGS is practically salivating for his power and the other sects jump at the smear campaign like starving dogs.

As though he heard nothing, Wei WuXian took out the flute at his waist. The few prisoners who were beside him, trudging forward, screamed before they threw off the heavy objects on their backs and fled. Within the valley, a large circle of space formed immediately, him in the center. In truth, the prisoners didn’t recognize Wei WuXian’s face, for the Wen Sect cultivators who ran into Wei WuXian on the battlefield of the Sunshot Campaign only met one end—utter annihilation. Thus, most of the Wen cultivators who recognized his face became fierce corpses in his army, for him to command. However, the flute made of dark wood, decorated with a crimson tassel, and the young man in black who controlled it had already become their nightmares.

Any Wen who met Wei Wuxian in battle FUCKING DIED. Do you guys realize what that means? This guy walked into battle, and left absolutely no survivors. Not the one. He is a legitimate nightmare in the mind of the Wens - he left a bloody legacy in the wake of the SunShot Campaign. No one even recognizes his face because anyone who saw it is dead.

The image Wei Wuxian created during the war carries on afterwards as well - Wei Wuxian even uses the reputation to his advantage when he is arguing with JZXun and JGS in the Banquet scene and during the Prison Camp scene to demand answers from the Inspectors.

So - what is the point of this meta aside from lowkey simping over the vengeful avatar WWX became in the wake of all the horrors ?

If you guys have seen other posts of mine, you know I am simp for Wei Wuxian because of his kindness and compassion and the amazingly righteous heart he has. So while again, I lowkey simp for SunShot Era WWX, it mostly just makes me incredibly sad, because it is very, very clearly a result of him being pushed to the extremes and being HEAVILY traumatised from the Burial Mounds and then from the War after that.

Wei Wuxian did not get the time to mourn or rest following the Fall of Lotus Pier - he is in a constant state of activity, much of it that has heavy toll on his health and well-being. He is thrown into quite literal hell and he claws his way out and then enters a fucking war. He does not get time to rest or recuperate or even process all the horrors he experienced.

He is the one-man army for much of the Sunshot Campaign battles - he had to be, for the still rebuilding Jiang Sect to have received much of the war reparations still. He had to be, because Wei Wuxian at the end of the day wouldn't let his comrades in battle die if there was a way to avoid it. He had to be, because he had to protect both Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli.

And the reason this matters is because the moment he does get to rest, once the war is actually over, once he actually gets to heal, he is a different person. Everything he is, kind and playful and good, shines right back out.

And the very man who became the nightmare of the Wens is the one who saves them when the world would have seen them dead for their names.

It's also interesting because the Sects praise WWX during the war, but once the war ends, he suddenly becomes the wild card, becomes too powerful to be left on his own - he is suddenly not someone they can control and that is a terrifying realization, especially when he is someone who they see as crossing the social norms of the gentry society. And it doesn't matter if WWX is no longer the man he was during the war - they will paint him as a mad dog craving power and destruction all the same.

[justplainwhump]

Shifting

Under the hands of rogue WRU handlers - and her best friend - Angel falls apart.

Written with @wildfaewhump, and part of the very fun (for us) AU where rogue handles Fin and Piers make themselves at home in Angel's house to teach the runaways their place. Lourdes and Fin are their characters. This complements this piece from Lourdes' pov, written by Vic; the AU is kicked of by this and this piece.

Cw BBU, recapture scenario, (re)conditioning, dubcon, referenced past and implied future noncon, past beating, dissociation home invasion, pet whump. Whumper POV in the beginning (whumpee POV later).

"Alright, Piers. I’ll bite." His boss has been rummaging through Freckles' freezer. When he turns around to face Piers, there's a bag of frozen edamame in his hand, pressed firmly to his bloody chin. 

Piers smirks. Fin looks like an idiot. Getting himself punched by that pet, as she was almost getting away - there’s not much more humiliating for a seasoned handler like him.

Fin grimaces. "Ten bucks says Freckles is just as much of a bitch when your Doe-eyes is done with her. She almost broke my skull with that fucking bolt cutter. She would've pulled through, if we hadn't fucked that dumb stubborn strength right out of her." 

Shrugging, Piers reaches for his beer and takes a swig. "She looked hot doing it though. And you got all your punches in in return. Trust me. Her body is worn down. Some... softer persuasion now, and her mind will follow suit."

"Bitch was about to sacrifice herself for Doe-Eyes."

"And Doe-Eyes is about to sacrifice her to us." Piers grins, remembering the little talk with his own pet before. Oh, they were devoted. They wanted to be a good pet - and they wanted Freckles to be a good pet with an adorable, naive despair. As if it'd do any of them any good. "Who's suited better to wipe out all the idiot beliefs she clings to, than the sweet little pet she claims to love?" He points at the dossiers on the pets' training they've gotten from the WRU servers. "All she needs to be is hardwired in her stupid head already. Let Doe-Eyes push her buttons, and Freckles will be as good as a factory reset."

Fin clicks his tongue. "And just how are they going to do this?"

"Sharing a bath." Piers points upstairs. "Freckles is pretty much out of it, but Doe-Eyes is pulling all the stops. It's fucking hot. You might want to go watch, I'll hold the fort. My gift to you."

Fin scoffs. "It needs to be a lot more than a sexy bath to earn you those ten bucks. I want my pet sweet, stupid and docile; and if she ever gets her hands on a fucking bolt cutter again I want her dumb little brain to know that the only way she's going to use it is to fuck herself with it, while I watch."

"Mhhh." Piers just smiles, as he raises his beer. "Bet."

- 

"Please," Angel whimpers in the bathtub, as Lourdes’ expert fingers wander between her legs. Her friend’s touch is soft on her torn body. Gentle. Loving. 

Relentless.

They don’t hear her. They just go on. Kissing her. Touching her. Soothing, promising, arguing. 

She’s loved them, she thinks. They’ve loved her, too, differently. 

Do they, still? 

Does she, still?

Does it matter?

"It doesn’t matter," Lourdes whispers, as their fingers circle her clit. "You can keep making it hard, and keep hating it, and it's still going to happen. Why not let it be good? You know it could be so good."

Angel lets her head sink back against the side of the bathtub. There’s a bath cushion mounted there, softening the edge. She’s bought it, for them both, after they moved in, when they established their tradition of bath day, entire evenings spend in the warm bathroom and each other’s company, talking, drinking, listening.

Bath days are over.

It was an interlude.

Lourdes’ lips are on hers, tender and unrelenting. Their fingers slip into her, just as their tongue slips into her mouth.

Why not let it be good?

It’s up to her. 

She can make it good. She knows. She’s been made to be good. Just as they have.

She just has to let go. Of the past, of the pain, of the lie she’s lived. Let go of Angel Harris. Let go. 

Just be good.

Angel lets go.

The pet kisses back. 

She still kisses back, when the face in front of her is pulled away, pressed down, replaced by someone else, a man, a handler with a deep gash on his chin and a cruel smile. The pet - 238, Freckles, Angel, it doesn't really matter, as long as she's being good, as long as she's feeling good - doesn’t even flinch.

She's still good.

Good pets don't remember.

They don't, they shouldn't remember being in this very same room, being a person, being assaulted by that same man in their own bathroom. Good pets don’t remember the dread, the struggle, the resistance.

Good pets don't care about anything but their owner's pleasure. Good pets don't care about other pets. Good pets don't have friends, who they need to worry about, drowning or hurting or dying. Friends are for people. Pets only have owners.

Handler Fin is the centre of her world, and he's kissing her, he's making her feel good, and she's kissing him back, with desperate passion.

Her hips shift as she spreads her legs wider for the attention of the other pet, a tool in her owner's hand, she doesn't know how to worry. She knows how to fuck and to kiss and to be good.

The other pet, the one kept under water, the one she doesn't worry about, is keeping their mouth over her clit, gently sucking at it.

"Good girl" he whispers in her ear. "But Freckles may only come if she persuades me that she wants it. Tell me how badly Freckles needs this."

Underwater, the other pet twitches, the handler’s hand pressing keeps them down. 

The pet kisses him like she's she one drowning, desperate, needy, letting the warmth in her lower body simmer, wait, hold back for him. "Sir," she whispers, voice husky, just as she's learned. "I... I want this, I need this, but... I need you more. I... My pleasure is yours, Sir, please, allow me be good, let me finish, please." 

Let the pet finish, please, let them go, let me stop caring, please, let me be good. 

His free hand rests on her throat, squeezes lightly, almost loving. "Freckles has forgotten that I and me are no longer terms for her," he says mildly. "Freckles is not being very good. Why should a bad pet be allowed any pleasure?" 

Under the surface, a hand digs into her thigh painfully. 

The pet closes her eyes. She doesn't care. Please. 

That's what pets are for.

That’s what the one under the water is for. The one whose mouth has lost its former expertise, whose tongue is just twitching desperately. Who still sends ripples of pleasure through her body, because she's made for pleasure, for giving and receiving, always, whenever.

That's what she's for. Her. Freckles. 

"Freckles," she breathes. "Freckles is sorry, Freckles' learned other words for herself in training. Freckles mind is slow, because she's so confused, she has to learn so much, but... But she... She'll be better, she... Freckles is yours, Sir."

"Yes, Freckles is slow," he says. He tilts her head back against the tub, pulls her body by the neck until her back arches. "But Freckles will learn eventually. She has the rest of her life to learn." 

She feels him shove the other pet’s head firmly against her cunt. "Come, Freckles," he commands. 

The sound of his voice almost tips her over the edge almost as much as the pet's mouth, desperately sucking at her clit. 

Waves of pleasure wash over her, make her forget the ache lingering deep in her body, as she lets her back arch even further, gives him everything she has to offer. 

She's his. She knows. She's always been.

Her owner hauls the other pet out of the water by their hair, choking and fighting for breath, but Freckles has only eyes for him, and the affection she sees in his eyes. She is still trembling in the afterglow of her orgasm, the smile on her face all perfect, natural instinct. 

"Good girl, Freckles," he praises. "Freckles is beautiful when she comes for me."  

There's blood on her owner's chin, still. He's been hurt, by someone who didn't understand. Her fr-, Lou-, the other pet, they had always known. 

It's stupid to fight. Pets are meant to lose. Made to lose. But if they accept that, if they do lose in just the right way, if they do what pets do and they are pretty and desirable and fuckable, they can be rewarded still. And she wants to. She wants to be good and loved, and safe, she wants his hands on her like just now, not like - not like on the previous her. The before. The bad pet.

He reaches into the water, lifting her out with ease. It's a short shock, when he lets go of his hold. She finds footing, but the muscles in her legs aren't prepared, are too weak to hold her upright.  Her legs give in, and she yelps, as she collapses on the tiles at his feet, almost forgotten aches flaring up again all over her, echoes of him, her resistance, his anger. "I'm sorry," she whispers, gaze cast down in instant submission, "Sir, Freckles is so sorry, she's... You've had to punish her, and she's still hurting, still learning. It’s her fault."

"It’s alright." He smiles and strokes her head. "Freckles can crawl, if she can't stand." The affection in his touch makes the pet feel warm, in a way she hasn't felt warm for a long time. She nods, grateful for his guidance. Pets should always be grateful.

"Yes, Sir."

She can crawl, she can be on her knees, or on all fours, like a good pet. 

"Dry yourself first," he commands, settling himself on the side of the bathtub.  

She smiles at him, as she gets on her knees and lifts the towel to dry herself, careful and sensual, making sure the movements of the towel emphasizes every part of her body. She knows he likes her breasts, she's seen him leer at them so often, and thus she starts there, working through the pain when the towel runs over welts and bruises. 

She knows he likes her pain, too. She’s known before, she knows now, as he palms himself lazily through his pants, watching her.

By her side, she knows the other pet is drying themself as well. She doesn’t look over. She doesn't care about them, because it would only hurt them. Which doesn't make sense, because not wanting them to get hurt is caring, and she does not care. She bites her lips. It's okay to not understand. Pets are stupid. And she's nothing more than a pet. 

"Let's go to your room," her owner orders. "Get you ready."

She tries to push herself up to her feet once again. Her legs still can't make it. And he's leaving, steps out on the corridor expecting her to follow. She lets herself sink down on all fours and crawls after him, fighting through the burning sting of the soft carpet on her chafed knees.

 "Gonna find you something cute and fuckable to wear, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. The pet name soothes her pain, and she lets the warmth of her own affection for him wash over the strange feeling of wrongness. This is not his house, but she is his - and so it's natural for him to move around like he's a ruler, and for her to follow. 

He stops in front of the bedrooms, as if waiting for her to show him which door to open, and she glances at the one he's looking for, crawls into the room when he opens it.

The bedroom is large, all oriented towards the big windows, decorated with soft colours and light wood. The pet remembers being happy about this room, about it catching the vibes of the sky on a spring day. A bouquet of fresh flowers stands on a desk in the corner, next to a computer and headphones and a half finished glass of water. The bed isn't made, the blue duvet crumpled next to a stripped off set of clothes. The person who lived here has just left to take a shower.

The pet knows she won't come back.

[sasukimimochi]

ok but

i came up with what i think is an incredibly cute idea for a mdzs au and i really might add it to my project list cuz it tickles my fancy.

i'm dying thinking about it so let me give as small of a summary as i can here lmao

*the big change here is LWJ. LWJ is essentially a lot less restrictive, but...mainly with WWX! Think of this slightly like a sober-drunk LWJ.

-WWX meets LWJ at Cloud Ressesses, as per usual. he's still strict, but something about him seems softer around WWX than with other people, and others notice it immediately while WWX has no fucking clue. (this doesn't mean he's not aware, this just means it's too early for him to understand there's a difference).

-LWJ intentionally catches WWX every time he does something against the rules, and is secretly the happiest guy ever bc he now gets to sit with WWX every day for hours. this will help it still be a surprise for WWX when LWJ starts opening up to him bc why does strict lan suddenly wanna friend me??

-it does not take long before LWJ is actually seeming to open up even if not in the way WWX expected. (at least a month so after his punishment) as a result, WWX stops doing as much bad things to get LWJ's attention, and simply hangs out with him a ton. (Jc is a bit jealous bc he always wants the two to hang alone. He doesn't think about it too much though cuz wwx is always outgoing so he thinks he's probably overthinking it- not that he thinks they're in a relationship at this point)

-WWX starts behaving a bit, just because he wants to hang around longer, but still ends up punching Jin Zixuan. As a result, LWJ convinces uncle to let him go to Lotus pier as both an escort and to study there since he's already a great lan student! (aka he just wants to stick around WWX) and after a great battle with the of eyes he is allowed to go.

-Thus starts the little adventures of our young couple doing whatever the hell they want for a while.

maybe i'll touch more on this later but

i decided to nickname the au "He's Definitely Sober" for now. if i change it i change it lol

i mean...think about it, just imagine this scene but with a sober lwj. i would literally die. it's like, some of my favorite things. I have always wished there was more of this lmao

scenario for fun-

LWJ: Wei Ying. WWX: Lan Zhan?

LWJ: I love Wei Ying. WWX: You what

LWJ: I want to court you. WWX: YOU WHAT

LWJ: i'll ask uncle in the morning. WWX: ////////???? REWIND.

LWJ: *shoves armful of gentian flowers in his arms* please. WWX, lost, flustered, and who knows what else: o...okay.

...and thus an awkward convo with jc the next day:

WWX, holding his flowers: so...

JC: *squints* WWX: i might have gotten asked about being courted...

JC: ...you're a man! WWX: i said that too but...

JC: but?? WWX: we're both guys so its hard to argue against

JC: *freezes, looking seconds from qi deviation*

somewhere in the Yashi Lan Qiren is also looking pretty similar.

[chalkrevelations]

Oh. Oh.

Oh my god.

So, I have some feelings about the possibility of SA as part of Jiang Cheng’s POW experience once he’s taken back to Lotus Pier by the Wen soldiers - particularly given the way they seem to have played the aftermath of the core melting in CQL.

And I. I also have some feelings about why Mama Lan might have done what she did that got her locked away in the Cloud Recesses. As well as some definite feelings about That Fucker Qingheng-Jun and the fact that an effective captive, who he was apparently fixated on, ended up pregnant - TWICE - while being held in seclusion in the Cloud Recesses.

And now I’m just wondering what happens when Lan Wangji, who hates Jiang Cheng, starts recognizing behaviors from him that are oddly reminiscent of LWJ’s mom’s behaviors. Including things like not wanting to be fucking touched without warning.

Does LWJ even know what was actually up with his mom? How in the fuck does he parse the similarities? (And how does this effect LWJ’s behavior toward JC, even if - especially if - LWJ can’t figure out why he’s reacting in the ways he is? Because, let’s face it, i love LWJ, but his emotional intelligence quotient is in the cellar. That dumbassery is part of what I love about him. That and seeing him get punched in the face by that very dumbassery.)

(ETA: Oh my godddd. Also the way JC would chafe at any weird protectiveness from LWJ. And freak out in his asshole prickly way about the possibility that someone might have figured out what happened ot him. (As if LWJ would actually be able to figure any of this out, lol. JC has convinced himself that LWJ understands anything about what’s going on, and meanwhile LWJ is super clueless about his own emotions and responses, my shocked face, let me show you it ...)

ANYWAY. I want desperately to read this. Particularly - if I’m just going to open the container of cake frosting and eat directly out of it - as Zhangcheng. But I suspect I am nowhere near being able to write it.

: (

[chetchad]

Timeline

(Leon Kennedy x fem-reader{with mentioned Ada x Leon})

Warning: death, suicide, slight language, I wrote it on Wattpad, barely edited, typos and grammar errors.

(THIS IS A REALLY HORRIBLE FIC I WROTE ON WATTPAD! BEWARE!)

A dark and frightening setting was placed in front of you. You aimed your magnum at the man, he killed the man you liked to many times. He was too fast and pulled the trigger. Seeing Leon being shot in the chest again, falling to the ground with a loud thud, you yelled in frustration, running to his body dropping to your knees.

Rain cascaded down your back, you choked out sobs of sadness and frustration, eyes directed down at Leon who laid looking up at you.

"NO! Pl-please! Not again! I've seen you die in front of my eyes to m-many times!" You cried through sobs, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Leon looked up at you with half-lidded blue eyes, rain smacking his body. He grasped your hand in his, you looked at him blurred by tears.

"I-I’m sorry, please do good things. Stop everything you're doing" he stuttered out. "Please.... stop doing bad things."

You hated hearing that, so many times you tried and tried to stop this from happening. Your hair stuck to your face, you punched the ground.

His life slipped from his grasp. You dig through the pockets of your duster jacket. Ripping out the pocket watch, you glared at it.

"This better work this time." you sneered to no one...well the watch.

A bright flash emitted from the small watch. You closed your eyes, then opened, then.....

You were back where you always ended up. After using the watch.

You walked with Chris Redfield, who, let's be honest, isn't that fond of you, and Piers Nivans. You kept your stoic face, blocking out their conversation.

You noticed Leon, you talked to him a lot. But he never remembered any of it, and most sadly, you. you stopped trying to get his attention. He was always talking about that 'Ada' chick, but if he loves her you can't stop his feelings for her. He walked into an alley, you ran after him knowing this is where he always was shot.

The dark and frightening setting was placed in front of.....again. You pulled out your magnum and pointed at the man you hated, you pulled the trigger but.....it clicked the click you dreaded. No fucking bullets. The bullet was projected in Leon's chest, his eyes widening while he looked down at himself.

Leon thudded on the ground again. Damnit. You ran to him, grabbed his gun and shot the man who shot Leon. You threw the gun on the floor, sliding on your knees grasping his hand, crying.

"I can't stop this from happening! I'm sorry!" you wailed, squeezing his hand to be reassuring.

Leon pulled your hand up to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on it.

"I know you tried to help me. I know you tried over and over. Just please.... stop being a bad person, okay?" He mumbled, dirty blond hair sticking to his forehead.

You looked at him, tears mixing with the rain water on your face then, falling to the ground.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." you repeated, hiccups slipping past your lips.

"Don't do bad things, okay? Be a good girl.”

You nodded, tearing up watching Leon's life slip away from his slippery grasp. You sat there for a few moments, tears sliding down your face. You eventually stood up, composing yourself, you walked out of the dark place.

Walking over to Chris, he actually looked slightly concerned. He asked what happened, you told him just 'Leon S. Kennedy is dead'. He looked surprised, seeing your tear stained face. Patting your shoulder gently, reassuring you.

You eventually met up with your twin brother.

"Jake, I-I'm sorry for being a horrible person, killing those innocent people. Hurting you and mom. I'm sorry for being a little asshole, for the yel-" you apologies mixed with sobs were cut off by a hug.

Sobbing into your brother's shoulder, you were loathing this feeling in your chest, it was like horrible heartburn.

You sat on the couch watching TV with your twin brother. You had that feeling of dread wave across your chest. Excusing yourself to the bathroom.

You stared at the meds on the bathroom sink. You dumped a handful of pills in your hand. Staring at the pills thinking about taking them all and ending it all.

You threw the pills at the wall, breaking down and sobbing. You slid down the wall crying, all those memories flashing through your head.

Your stomach hurt bad from all the meds you were on. You felt bile rising in your throat, turning to the toilet to throw up. Gagging, puking, and sobbing. Alerted Jake to come and check up on you.

He knocked on the door, "Hey, are you ok?"

He opened the door and saw what was happening. He sat on the edge of the porcelain tub, rubbing your back.

You threw up more until there was nothing in your stomach, besides stomach acid. Jake brushed your hair away from your eyes. You sobbed quietly, squeezing your shorts.

Jake left to get you some water, that left you crying.

Jake walked back with a glass of water, handing it to you. You drink some, splashing it around in your mouth then spitting it out. Then drinking some of the water.

"Do you think Leon is watching over me?" You asked randomly.

Jake looked over slightly confused, wanting to know why you asked that.

"Yeah? I bet so."

You looked up at him, smiling. You hugged him, tearing up again.

You sat in the middle of your room writing the note you were leaving for Jake. He was with that Sherry chick a lot nowadays. So you thought he wouldn't care if you were gone.

Grabbing your magnum, pointing it under your chin. Pulling the trigger....'click'.

"Damnit! why!?? I just want to fucking die" You screeched, crying frustration tears.

Jake came home and found you screaming about always having no bullets. He yelled at you a lot, horribly mad.

You went to a therapist, hoping it will help. I did a little bit, but not much.

Jake tried to get you and Sherry to get to know each other. It kinda worked.....I guess.

Alternate ending

Jake walked into the house with Sherry, bringing leftovers from his date with her. He was going to let you have them. He heard a gunshot, he and Sherry panicked running to your room.

Seeing your dead body, he felt tears burn eyes. Sherry was quietly crying. She didn't Even know you very well, but Jake talked very highly of you.

A cemetery, rainy, cold, perfect day for a funeral.

Jake, Sherry, Chris, and a few other people. all stood outside with umbrellas, mourning over a young woman. The tombstone read '(Y\N) Muller 1992 to 2013, beloved sister and friend'.

Jake always blamed himself for your death. Sleepless nights, seeing your dead body when he closed his eyes.

"Today we all met to talk about a young woman. A young woman who should not have gone the way she went. Gallons of tears she poured, her laughter, feelings she felt. She will be missed. And forever remembered, if you have a story to share please do" the priest (?) hummed, closing the little booklet.

"I remember one time she tried to cook when we were kids, she almost burnt the house down. She was making milkshakes." Jake told everyone chuckling at the end.

Jake smiled at the memory, remembering everything that was said in that memory, your reaction when it happened.

You sat on a nice grassy hill watching your own funeral on a TV. You felt someone sit next to you, you looked over and saw Leon.

"Hey, what are you watching?" He asked.

"My funeral." you answered, "Hey Leon why am I here?"

Leon looked over and shrugged, you smiled at his response. You got to look at him better, he looked younger but still nice.

"Hey Leon? Do you still love Ada?" You asked, looking over at him.

"I-i don't know." he replied with a sheepish smile.

You nodded with a hum, then grabbed his hand. You leaned over and pecked his cheek. He looked over, slightly shocked, then smiled.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling in pure bliss.

[rallamajoop]

What changes would you make if you were in charge of remaking Resident Evil 6?

Ha, trick question! You're not getting me with that one. I wouldn't remake RE6, it's the only good solution.

Seriously, as much as I did enjoy so much of the absurd nonsense that is RE6, you can't make something so-bad-it's-good deliberately, nor should you try. A complete list of everything from RE6 I'd want to preserve in some hypothetical remake basically goes 1. Jake, 2. uhhhhh, maybe that bit where Piers grows a MONSTER ARM that shoots lightning? (But does that mean we'd have to keep the rest of the Chris/Piers campaign to get there? Ugh, no. Not worth it.) I liked Jake's dynamic with Sherry, but Sherry herself could use a major rewrite. I mean, she has almost-wolverine-level healing powers, and the game still thinks she needs to be tackled out of danger every 10 minutes. Aaaaand I'm already running out of stuff I'd genuinely want to keep.

RE6 is the kind of fractal disaster that could be broken down into a near-infinite number of smaller disasters, representing almost every major creative decision that went into it. Making it a co-op game was a mistake, giving the player 4 different campaigns was a mistake, the big-bads are laughable, the mooks are forgettable, the story leaves far too much hanging and unresolved. It's overlong and tediously repetitive, forcing you to fight the same bosses over and over, and then again as a different character ‒ and that's without even touching on all the weird bugs and jank. The campaign throws you from major outbreak location to major outbreak location, over and over, like a scenario that once supported all of RE2 and 3 is no longer interesting enough to hold anyone's attention. Chris' entire campaign is one long military-shooter-handjob that doesn't matter. Leon and Helena's has far more redeeming features, but I wouldn't really miss it. And Ada's campaign, while critical to the plot, is just the absolute worst way to get all that plot-critical info across to the player.

You could maybe salvage something worth remaking by coming up with some real villains and extending Jake and Sherry's campaign into the whole story, with Chris and Leon (and partners?) mostly appearing as NPCs, ala RE8. But how you'd make Jake and Sherry work without co-op I don't know, and can't be bothered trying to figure out.

How do you remake RE6 successfully? You start by deciding what kind of bloody game you're trying to make, and committing to that. Is it supposed to be horror? A military shooter? Action co-op? Is what you're trying to make even really Resident Evil at all? Or are you actually aiming for some sort of weirdly compelling, frequently ugly, campy, janky, utter mess of an experience? Well, good news if so on that last point: you don't have to remake it, it's all that already.

For the record, a complete list of everything I'd want to save from RE5 goes, 1. Sheva, 2. That bit where Chris punches a boulder. But hell, maybe you could salvage something decent by promoting Sheva to the main character, now trying to save her own country from these fucking foreigners who've introduced bioweapons into her homeland, with Chris reduced to an NPC who's too focused on trying to rescue Jill to do much else but get in Sheva's way (until towards the very end where they finally manage to team up to save the day). But that's all about as likely as Capcom actually producing a good version of RE6.

[rubyreduji]

he was a skater boy — hvc

summary: your skater boy best friend asks for your help to get with the head of the dance team

tags: slice of life, slight angst, skater boy!vernon, best friend!vernon, high school!au, gn!reader wc: 3.6k an: reader is in their avril lavigne era, we love debut vernon

“CHWE!” At the sound of his name being called, Vernon turns around to see you riding up to him on your skateboard. When you get closer to him you stop your board and walk the rest of the way to meet him. “What did you need from me?”

Earlier today your best friend told you he needed to talk to you later and to meet him at The Place. The Place being the parking lot of the abandoned shopping strip that went out when the new pier was built.

“So as you know you’re my best friend,” he starts.

“Yes…? Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” You ask deadpanned. Vernon sighs in fake frustration which makes you crack a grin, which makes him crack a grin.

“But seriously dude, you’re my best friend which means I should come to you with shit like this. So like, I kinda…have a crush on someone,” he admits. You try not to laugh at him. You fail. “Hey!”

“Sorry man, that’s just…not what I was expecting. You’re being all dramatic like you’re dying or some shit. So what? You have the hots for someone, why are you telling me? Unless you’re in love with me Nonie~” You tease him and he glares at you before shoving at your shoulder.

“C’mon be serious. I’m telling you because I need help.” 

“Oh? Little Chwe doesn’t have game so he needs Y/N’s superior help?” You smirk at him. He shoves you again.

“I just need some pointers. You date people all the time! Plus you’re friends with this person, so just wingman me,” Vernon says.

“May I remind you that the people I date don’t exactly work out. Besides, you’re a catch man, what do you need me for? Everyone I’m friends with are total losers. Including you.” You punch him in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, but that’s why I need your help. I mean, how else am I going to get Vanessa to like me.” The name makes your smile drop. You stare at Vernon a little incredulously.

“There’s no fucking way you have a crush on Vanessa Jeffries.”

“I know, okay! But you gotta help me out here man.”

“Hansol.” You give him a pointed look.

“Gross, don’t call me that.” Vernon makes a scrunched up face to display his disgust. “I will literally do anything Y/N.”

“Ness and I aren’t friends anymore, you know this,” you huff annoyed.

Vanessa Jefferies. She lives in the house two doors down from yours and you guys grew up together. Before Vernon was your best friend, it was Vanesssa. That was until you started to get into skateboarding and pop punk music and she started to get into dance and student council.

Once high school hit it was easy for you guys to split apart, especially since her older sister drove her to school and you still had to take the bus (two months into freshman year you just started skateboarding to school). Not that you didn’t try to stay friends, but she was always too busy with new friends or clubs or whatever and at some point you just stopped trying as well. By the end of first semester of freshman year she had a whole new group of friends and a whole new style and even attitude. You on the other hand didn’t change much but that meant that you were still on the outskirts of the school hierarchy.

Then halfway through second semester Vernon moved to California from New York and you guys became fast friends over your shared love of skateboarding and cringey emo phases and it didn’t matter that Vanessa didn’t even look at you in the halls anymore because you had Vernon.

Now in senior year Vanessa is head of the dance squad, student body president, the founder of the conservation club, and on track to be class valedictorian. And you’re still riding to school on your skateboard listening to the same music you have been for four years. You can’t even remember the last time you talked to her, let alone had a conversation.

It’s a whole cliche, you know, and it annoys you to no end, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Vanessa isn’t going to suddenly show up at your doorstep begging to be friends again and you’re not going to change your personality just to fit in with her group of friends. You honestly were planning on spending the rest of high school ignoring her and her band of asshole followers without a second thought.

But here’s your best friend asking you to help him score a date with the most popular girl in school and it’s Vernon so as much as you tease him you still have the biggest soft spot for him and can’t say no.

“Please Y/N?” He begs, eyes round and pleading.

You groan out loud and drag a hand down your face. “Fine. But you owe me so badly Chwe.” 

“He wants you to what?”

You groan. “He wants me to help him get with Ness.”

“Ha, good luck with that.” 

You’re laying on Josh’s bed as he sits at his desk working on his homework. Joshua Hong is the only other person you would consider a good friend outside of Vernon. He lives in the house diagonal from yours and he grew up with you and Vanessa. He was never as close to Vanessa as you were though, always being more of your friend than hers. Unlike either of you Joshua keeps a middle of the road popularity with most of his friends being kids from the theatre department.

As much as you love Vernon he’s a “out to have a good time” friend, whereas Joshua is a “talk until three am about your issues” friend.

“You aren’t really thinking about helping him are you? You’ve had the biggest crush on him since he moved to California, there’s no way you can help him get with your ex-best friend.”

“What else can I do Josh? He’s my best friend. I can't just not do anything.”

“I know, I know. Just…don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Aww is Joshie worried about me?”

“Nevermind break your own heart bitch.”

You’re about to retort back to Josh when the doorbell rings. His parents aren’t home so you and Joshua both make your way down the stairs. When he opens the door you swear the universe is playing tricks on you.

“Hey Joshua! Oh, hey Y/N.” The girl you were just discussing is standing there on Joshua’s front porch with a smile on her face. “Wow this is actually so fortunate you’re both here! As you know since we’re all seniors this year we have senior projects to do and I was wondering if you guys wanted to do ours together! I’m head of the conversation club and I was thinking of doing a neighborhood clean up and since you guys live here too we could all work on it together.”

Joshua is about to respond but you cut him off by shoving him to the side and taking his place in front of Vanessa. “Hey Ness, it’s been so long! As great as that sounds, Josh and I are already working on our senior projects together. But you know who still needs an idea and loves the planet? My friend Vernon. You should ask him.”

“Vernon,” Vanessa mutters like she’s trying to figure out who he is. “The brunet skater guy right?”

“Yep, that’s him! Chwe’s his last name, you can find him in the phone book. Thanks, bye!” With that you close the front door of the Hong residence and drop your fake smile.

“Y/N! Why did you do that?” Joshua hisses, rubbing his arm where you shoved him.

“Because I’m helping Vernon out! I wouldn’t have said yes anyways. Working with Vanessa to clean up the neighborhood? I’ll pass.”

“You don’t even want him to date Vanessa!” Joshua shouts.

“You’re right! Are you happy?” You snap back, then let out a deep sigh. “He wouldn't like me back anyways Shua, so I’m not going to risk our friendship over a stupid crush. If he wants Vanessa then Vanessa is what he’s going to get. I just want him happy, I’ll be okay.”

At your tone of voice and the use of the nickname Joshua doesn’t say anything more and you’re grateful for that, but you still see the way he can’t wipe the concerned look off his face.

“The skater guy? He’s weird Vanessa.” The grating shrill voice of Polly Brunham fills your ears as you walk past the girl’s bathroom during study hall. “You were already pushing it by asking Y/N L/N to help with your senior project.”

You roll your eyes at this. Of course Vanessa and her friends are gossiping about you and Vernon. This is the exact reason you were hesitant on helping Vernon out in the first place.

“Hey don’t talk about Y/N like that. As for Vernon, I talked to him earlier. He seems nice and really willing to help. He’s kinda cute too,” Vanessa giggles. You frown at this. Vanessa thinks Vernon is cute. Your dorky best friend who is in need of a haircut and only got his braces off a few months ago. 

“You’re joking with me, you have to be!” Another shrill voice. You then hear Vanessa laughing as well. Of course she’s joking.

“I’m just being nice okay. I’m student body president, I can’t just turn people down when they offer their help like that. Y/N seemed really insistent when I asked too, so let's just call it a favor to an old friend.” You roll your eyes before continuing to walk back to study hall.

The next time you see Vernon is at lunch and you’re about to tell him what you overheard in the bathroom but he barely stops at your table to talk to you.

“Y/N! You’re literally the best! Vanessa wants to eat lunch with me and talk about the senior project!”

“Listen Vern, Vanessa isn’t the type of person to-”

“Hey I have to go, but I’ll see you after school okay!” With that he rushes off. You watch him walk up to Vanessa’s table and the two walk into the courtyard. Your eyes land on Vanessa’s friends and the way they start to whisper the second Vernon leaves. 

You’ll tell him later.

You don’t tell him later.

You barely have five seconds alone with him anymore and he always looks so happy when you do talk to him that you don’t want to crush that. Not to mention that Vanessa always looks happy to be around Vernon, and not in the fake way, in the genuine way. 

Before you know it a whole month has passed and it seems that Vernon and Vanessa have become friends. They’re together most of the time which leads you to spending more time with Joshua who keeps sending you pitying looks every time you hang out.

“You have to tell him,” Joshua insists.

“No I don’t.”

“At least tell him to balance his time better! You guys went from seeing each other everyday to barely even speaking. It’s sad.”

“Stay out of it Joshua,” you growl.

“No! You’re killing yourself over here Y/N. Everyday since you told Vanessa to ask Vernon for help on the senior project you’ve been wallowing in this cloud of miserableness and I’m tired of it! Your happiness shouldn’t be sacrificed for Vernon’s,” Joshua tells you. This is what you love and hate about him. He’s also honest with you and tells you the exact thing you need to hear. He’s great at giving advice, it’s just you who’s bad at taking it.

“It’s fine. Things will go back to normal after they finish the senior project. They should be done soon anyways, have you not seen the posters Vanessa has been putting around the neighborhood?”

The neighborhood clean up she and Vernon are planning is set for the Saturday in two weeks. Your mom keeps talking about it and every time she does you either leave the room or put your earbuds in.

“Fine, but if things don’t get better after the clean up then you better do something.”

Vernon has asked you to hang out together today. The text takes you by surprise because you haven't heard for him in a while because he's "been busying planning the clean up". You don't think there can be that much planning going on. He's probably just trailing around Vanessa like the pathetic shadow he's been for the past five weeks.

He asks to meet up at your guys' favorite skate park which makes you forgive him a little bit. Deep down he's still Vernon, your stupid skater best friend who spends too much time trying to stick skills that just ends up with his hands being scraped up.

When you get there he's about to drop into the bowl. The park is fairly empty, but even if it wasn't Vernon is easy to spot with his colorful outfits and his tall figure.

You stop walking so you can stand and watch him do his trick. You can tell what trick he's trying to the second he drops in. It's the same one he's been trying to stick for months now. He picks up speed around the bowl before flying out, catching air, only to fly right back in, speeding up even more. He goes around the bowl before he catches his tail on the lip, riding around the rim.

You stare, anticipating the normal fall he always does when he gets to the final skill, but you watch at he grabs the lip of the bowl and kicks his feet up into the air for a few seconds before bringing them back down, sticking in the landing and riding out of the bowl.

Holy shit.

This is the first time he's ever been able to stick all three skills back to back. You can tell he's hyped off of adrenaline and you make haste to go congratulate him, just as stoked as he is.

That is until Vernon doesn't turn to you. He turns to the girl who's sitting on the bench excitedly clapping.

"Holy shit did you see that!" Vernon calls excited to her.

She giggles. "You're so cool. I would have fell the second I stepped foot on the skateboard."

Of course. Of fucking course.

You laugh to yourself a bit incredulously. Of course he brings Vanesssa here. Why did you expect that you would be able to get just one moment alone with your best friend? Why did you expect him to keep your guys' favorite hobby to just you and him?

You have half the mind to turn around and leave but Vernon finally catches sight of you.

"Y/N! Hey! You would never believe what I just did!"

"I uh saw," you say.

"Oh. Hey Y/N." Vanessa smiles at you.

"...Hey Ness...What are you doing here?"

"I invited her!" Vernon says happily. "She asked me to sat in on one of her dance rehearsals and I said it was only fair if she came with me to the skate park, so here we are."

Vernon...your Vernon...sat in on a dance team rehearsal.

You love Vernon, you want him to be happy, but not if it means this. Not if it means he's dropping his friends and doing things he doesn't enjoy just to be around Vanessa Jeffries.

Honestly if this is what he wants, you're not going to stop him. He can be happy, but you don't have to jeoprodize your happiness as well.

"Yeah, hey uh, I think Josh needed me for something so I have to go. I'll catch you later." You know its a lie but you don't really care. You don't even bother to listen to Vernon's response before you mount your board and skate away.

“Are you and Joshua dating?” You don’t even have a chance to take your earbuds out before Vernon is interrogating you.

“Excuse me?” He hasn’t talked to you properly in weeks (you are not counting the skate park incident) and now he’s demanding you to answer his question like nothing has happened.

“Are you and Joshua Hong dating?”

“That’s fucking disgusting Vernon. Why would I be dating Josh?”

“I don’t know. You’re around him all the time now and you guys look really comfortable.”

“Yeah that’s called fifteen years of friendship. Plus you’re around Vanessa all the time, even when you ask to hang out with me, so I don’t know what you want from me anymore. To sit around alone everyday waiting for you to finally text me back? Yeah right Hansol, you’re out of your mind.” His first name slips out, something that happens when you’re particularly upset with him. “I don’t care whatever crush you have on her, but don’t think I’m stupid enough to just sit around and wait for you. Just leave me be.” With that you grab your things and walk away from him and he’s too stunned to follow.

Your mom forces you to go to the neighborhood clean up. You’re in jeans and a t-shirt as you stand off to the side with Joshua. You glare over at where Vernon and Vanessa are standing, talking to some of the neighbors.

“He’s being an ass,” you say.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and fix things,” Joshua sighs.

“Why should I try when he isn’t?”

“Because things won’t get better if neither of you try!”

The rest of the day sucks. It’s hot as you go around trying to clean up trash and pull weeds. You stick close to Josh the whole time and barely even look at Vernon. You’re considering just leaving at one point but Joshua stops you because his conscience is too nice to leave but he doesn’t want to be left alone.

Finally after too many hours of working everything is done. You’re itching to go home and take a shower but you stop when you see Vernon and Vanessa standing and talking.

“Vanessa, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes Hansol?” You cringe. Vernon hates being called Hansol. It’s even worse since you guys became friends because now he associated it with you being mad at him.

“I like you. I have for a while and doing this project with you really solidified everything. I love being around you and I hope you feel the same way. Will you go on a date with me?”

“Oh Hansol,” you hate the pity in Vanessa’s voice, “I don’t like you like that. You’re a great kid and this project was really fun but you’re just not my type.”

“Oh…”

“I’m really sorry.” With that Vanessa turns her back and walks away from Vernon.

You hate the dejected look on Vernon’s face. You hate the way you can see the pain in his eyes as he watches Vanessa leave. When she’s fully out of sight Vernon finally looks away and just happens to meet your eyes.

And just like that weeks of pain and distance don’t exist anymore. You’re walking to Vernon and wrapping him in your arms as he silently cries into your shoulder.

“Hey Vern?”

“What’s up?”

“How would you feel if I wrote a song about Vanessa Jeffries?”

Your boyfriend looks up from his desk top to stare at you. “What?”

You laugh a bit. “You remember senior year?” He nods. “What if I write a song about it? Something like, he was a skater boy, she said see you later boy.”

“That’s awful.”

“No it’s not!” You smack his shoulder. 

Senior year was a distant memory at this point. You and Vernon are now happily dating (even though it didn’t happen until sophomore year of college) and now you guys are both singer-songwriters while Vernon produces music as well.

“And what if Vanessa hears it?”

“Then she’ll know what a fat L she took when she turned you down,” you answer. “But it’s a good thing because now you are dating the coolest person on the planet.”

“I didn’t know I was dating Woozi from Seventeen. How lucky is that.”

“Haha,” you deadpan at your boyfriend’s K-Pop obsession. He just cracks a grin at you. “I’m going to write the best damn song ever and you’re going to see how it blows up. Just wait.”

“Sorry, girl, but you missed out. Well, tough luck that boy's mine now. We are more than just good friends. This is how the story ends. Too bad that you couldn't see, see the man that boy could be. There is more that meets the eye, I see the soul that is inside.” You sing out. You can feel the sweat running down your forehead as the hot stadium lights shine down on you. “We are in love, haven't you heard, how we rock each other's world~”

Your fingers fly over the strings of your guitar skillfully as you smirk. Of course you proved your boyfriend wrong. You always write bangers. Your eyes flit over to the side of the stage where he’s standing there watching you, a smile playing at his own lips.

You look down into the audience and you swear you catch a familiar face, an almost knowing look plastered on said face.

“I'll be at a studio, singing the song we wrote, about a girl you used to know~” You finish. The audience erupts into applause and you smile and thank them before heading off stage.

“Phenomenal as always,” Vernon tells you the second you meet him.

“I know,” you smirk and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Did you see she was here tonight?”

“Who?”

“Vanessa Jeffries.”

“Holy shit.”

“Tell her hey when you go out,” you tell him. “I mean, she’s the whole reason this song is such a hit.”

“God you’re awful,” Vernon says.

“But you love me.” You lean forward to kiss Vernon. “And my awful song.”

“Yeah, I really do.”

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @brxzilianbaby @baldi-2 @moshiyuron @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee

join my taglist: here!

[cryptidanathema]

if not already asked, leon for the character ask :) basic but opinions vary!

(Also asked by @shinekittenace)

Why I like them: I fully expected this guy with his John Cena-esque go getter attitude and aggressively marketable ace to annoy the shit out of me, but the truth is is that hating Leon is like hating a puppy. You just can't. He's just a nice fuckin dude that wants to keep everyone safe even though he's just one man. There's also the fact that he's essentially a grown up ex-protagonist which the game delves into a little with his complicated emotions surrounding losing the title he's had since he was eleven by the end of the game and the fandom's done some FASCINATING psychological deep dives with. 

Why I don’t: I feel like GameFreak failed a bit with show don't tell with him. Some of the ways GameFreak try to make him seem really intelligent and capable are...a little on the nose to say the least. Like for instance him estimating how much Hop has grown during his introduction scene COULD be taken as a hint they don't get to see each other often but nah I really do suspect they wanted the kiddies to be like WOW THIS GUY IS SO SMART HE CAN DO MATH lol. I do kiiiind of suspect the fandom put more effort into analyzing the guy and the kind of havoc being a massive celebrity since the age of 11 can wreak on your personal life than GameFreak ever did but that's very much not a bad thing IMHO. I'm not one of those IF IT'S NOT STRICT CONFIRMED CANON IT'S OF THE DEVIL people (and honestly rather detest them) 

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I...don't think the Anime showcased the better sides of his personality well (he loses the protective streak and just kind of comes off like a self-absorbed manchild that everyone loves because he can defy basic Pokemon battle logic in the same way Ash can. He's a protagonist But Annoying This Time) so I'm not terribly interested in seeing more. 

Favorite season/movie: See above. 

Favorite line: Tbh I don't have one particular standout one immediately coming to mind and I'm feeling too lazy to go through his quotes page rn. His catchphrase IS fun to meme about I will say. 

Favorite outfit: He absolutely kills everything that's not the Sponsorship Cape tbh. The guy has GOOD fashion sense despite the memes, corporate was just holding him back. 

OTP: Raihan/Piers/Leon for reasons I already went into in the Raihan response lol (the vibes between him and Rai are interesting and pretty damn hard to deny but Piers is holding up 90% of my mental health on his bony little shoulders rn and also I wanna see him and Leon interact more) I'd also love he and Sonia to work thier shit out, they are cute as FUCK together in Pokespe 

Brotp: The platonic Raileon enjoyer strikes again. Id also certainly take he and Piers being bros too. Also he and Nemona would be absolutely insufferable together and I'd love to see it someday lol 

Head Canon: One thing that was inspired the anime and a certain infamous wall punching scene is that through no real fault of his own he and Raihan's relationship was actually dangerously close to fraying for a bit. He WANTS to be a good and supportive friend to his favorite person but he's gotten fame and empty adoration pretty much handed to him for long enough that he can't REALLY understand what's going on in Raihan's head, the immense pressure he's putting himself under and the frankly unhealthy behaviors he's starting to develop. It's gonna take the pressure of the championship being gone for Leon to stop being the impossible standard Raihan's harming himself with and start being an uncomplicated source of companionship again. On a brighter note he's a good enough guy that once he becomes Chairman he's gonna prove he deserves that position by taking steps to reverse Rose's power consolidation to make sure no one person can cause that much trouble for the nation of Galar again. He'll prove his worthiness to rule by NOT being a total corporate dictator. 

Unpopular opinion: I've bitched about finding him annoying in the anime enough so instead I'll say I actually don't mind how involved he was in the game plot, it's honestly kind of weird other adults HAVEN'T been like "why are we letting random ten year olds go into very dangerous situations unaccompanied" before if you think about it

A wish: The same as the others, I'd love to see him again IF he's not miserable or acting like an ass. 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Don't get lost in spacetime my neurodivergent king you've been through enough 🤞🤞🤞

5 words to best describe them: The tragedy of Superman, Pokemonned. 

My nickname for them: Lee suffices.

[darkpunkrocker]

Intro Post

Yo, How's it goin'? The names Sidney (Sid if ya like).

Huh? Who am I?

What, ya livin' under a rock or somethin'?!

I'm part of Hoenn's Elite Four! My specialty bein' Dark-types.

Yea, yea ya probably heard about me bein' a delinquent, but that's all in the past! I wanna do good work out there and show young trainers that anyone can live their dreams, like me!

BASIC SHIT:

Age: 36

Height: 6'1"

Gender: Male/Man/Bro/Punk/Bastard

Pronouns: He/Him/They (Whatever)

Sexuality: Omnisexual. (I dunno man. Everyone's pretty, aight?)

Pokemon Team:

Kane: Mightyena ⚦

Spike: Cacturne ⚦

Cena: Shrifty ⚦

Deluge: Sharpedo ⚦

King: Absol ⚦ (Mega evolution)

Savage: Crawdaunt ⚦

Jax: Scrafty ⚦

Batista: Zoroark ⚦

Sheik: Mandibuzz ♀

Newbies:

Aoko: Zangoose ✨ ♀

Ripley: Deino ♀

Lynch: Maschiff ♀

[Complete Bio]

-x-x-x-

((OOC: PLEASE READ BEFORE INTERACTING))

DNI: PRO-SHIPPERS, TERFS RAD/LIBFEMS, TRANSPHOBES, RACISTS, ETC.

NO NSFW POSTS/RPS ALLOWED

(If you do nsfw, fine, but keep it off my blog thank you.)

Sidney would punch you square in the fuckin' jaw, so fuck off!

Mun Nova here, 30+ years old and I use he/they pronouns!If you have any questions don't be afraid to contact me, my DMs are always open!

DISCLAIMER: this is an rp blog that takes place in the pokemon universe, so pls keep in mind I will be RPing as such! I will be using several different HC from the games, anime/manga and also personal.

This Blog also takes place after the events in Sapphire/Ruby and is somewhat in the future.

NOTE: NSFW is NOT allowed! However, flirting, teasing, and SOME innuendos towards Sidney are fine. Use common sense! (Any ask that goes against my rules will be deleted.)

>Friendly reminder that if you try to engage a plot with me without at least discussing it with me first, then I will likely not respond. Even if you do approach me with a plot in mind, there is no guarantee I will agree.

I AM A-OKAY INTERACTING WITH OCS. This involves: Fallers, Eebydeebies, sentient pokemon, hybrids, etc. If you're not sure just ask! I promise I do not bite <3

If you are looking to interact with my muse, and your muse is tied to some potentially triggering topics, I would prefer if you discussed potential interactions with me first. This is for my own comfort, so please keep this in mind.

This is a side blog, so I'll usually send asks on anon and sign off with "-DarkPunkRocker".

I follow back from my main @galactic-mermaid

IF YOU READ THIS ENTIRE THING, PLS SEND (DM or Ask) THE PHRASE "Sixes and Sevens" TO ME AS CONFIRMATION.

Check out my other Pokemon RP Blogs!

@thetravelingymleader (Pokemon OC)

@ghostly-groundskeeper (Pokemon OC)

@piers-official (Piers RP Blog)

@ragingwaters (Nessa RP blog)

@krazy-for-klara (Klara RP blog)

@a-gastly-trio (Pokemon Gijinka OCs) ((HIATUS))

[add1ctedt0you]

It's so fucking funny that the donghua writers were like "you know what would be romantic? If an incredibly wealthy young master bought a cheap toy for a homeless orphan. And did nothing else."

What are some other donghua writing gems?

Disclaimer: I watched the donghua three years ago, so I am not a specialist! But I re-watched recently some scenes. So, uh, everything is about jc and the jiang.

Lotus pier was destroyed for an hairpin

Do you think that novel!jfm is an useless sect leader? Don't worry, donghua!jfm is even worse! He was out of lotus pier to buy a jade hairpin for his wife apparently. Not getting into how buying material things to gain your wife's love isn't great, but why leaving lotus pier in such a moment?

Jiang Cheng (lack of) scenes

Do you all remember how novel!jc chased over wzl without even grabbing a sword? Good, because donghua!jc doesn't do shit! He stays right there, just saying: "Wei Wuxian!" perfectly chill.

Do you all remember how novel!jyl dies between novel!jc's arms? Good! Because donghua!jc is merely on the background. His sister was in mortal danger but he couldn't run faster than a tortoise!

Not a great change, but I am sure that novel!jc, whose face made wzl say: not today kid and run away and whose bitchy face made people piss on their pants, can defend himself!

Bonus:

My 4 years old niece can do better than this:

I couldn't put more imagines, but the quality is low a lot of time. And then you have:

Not understanding jc but spending all their budget on jc's last scene, it's wwx's peak behavior tbh.

Abandoned wife/ crazy ex jiang cheng

This is after the golden core's reveal (I am not getting into the chronological order); jc asks wwx why he didn't say anything about the core, why he abandoned them, and then lwj hits jc with his power (??) (I must say that donghua!jc takes a lot of punches: one time yzu slaps him, another time wwx punches him and then even lwj hits him. Man can't catch a break)

[mamamittens]

High Note of a Punch Line

Part 5/13 of Spooktober

@idiashroudds

Siren!Buggy/OC(Anna)

Sorry for the long wait and hopefully it meets expectations! BTW, I based Buggy's fishy half off of a loach, more or less. I know clown fish is like, right there, but the stripes felt right and a little more unorthodox for a seductive siren lol

Warnings: Mentions of murder and maybe cannibalism depending on your definition of the word.

Word Count: 1,987

There was nothing more relaxing than bathing in the moonlight with a song in his chest.

Unfortunately for Buggy, even he wasn’t immune to the innate drive to have his song heard. Otherwise, he’d post himself up on a rock somewhere in the middle of the ocean to stretch his vocal cords. He wasn’t like most of his brethren. Beautiful men and women who enchant the mind and soul with a glance. Though his hair was a point of pride, he was aware that the rest of him… lacked.

And he hated that feeling.

Privately, and only privately, Buggy admitted he looks quite goofy. His nose, such a prominent feature, was perfectly red and round. Distinctive, his family called it with a smile, but he knew the truth. Had been informed many times that he looked fucking ridiculous, not ‘distinctive’ in the slightest.

His features weren’t otherwise notable, though certainly masculine enough to soothe his wounded pride. His tail a long, winding thing with wide, spindly, fan-like fins. Black and white stripes that cut across the water with impressive speed. It spooled around him like loose yarn before falling off into the deep waters just off the docks of an unfortunate town he happened to be near.

He'd already drowned six people in the three days he’d been here. Each one guffawing with loud, drunken laughter at the sight of him.

It wasn’t his fault most idiots thought sirens were just women with pretty tails, big tits, and bedroom eyes.

He took special pleasure in drowning the ones that laughed at his voice—such a massive fucking insult for a siren.

It wasn’t the deep baritone of his adopted father that made the seas bend to his will or the resonating alto of that damn showoff, red-hair. It was a bit croaky and thin, the huskiness tempting you to come closer to hear him better. Right into his arms to be drowned and eaten. But if you were expecting a seductive, smooth voice like whiskey with a body just as deep, the reality was a bit… jarring.

Some would say laughably so.

Those ‘some’ ended up with their lungs full of seafoam and their ribcage torn open like a buffet.

Regardless, he was here for as long as he wanted to be, fuck everyone else.

The rolling, wordless tune vibrated in his chest as he called out to the moon and the stars. The sea curling around his fins in appreciation. Small fish swirling around hypnotically, helpless to the innate allure his kind exuded. Despite the ‘quality’ of his voice, he’d bewitched sharks and krakens alike for feasting. In this, he was absolutely secure.

There was a soft, muffled rattle of boards. Someone with delicate feet and gentle footsteps walking down the pier. Buggy pretended to ignore them, letting them get as close as they wanted before he pulled them in to eat. Ready and poised to strike the minute they laughed at him.

Closer and closer, Buggy began to hear the gentle swish of fabric. Skirts, he guessed, and mentally prepared to be laughed at by a woman this time. It always stung a little more than with men. The rending of soft flesh a poor consolation prize as the pretty thing stared sightlessly up at him in horror. He wasn’t even that hungry right now, but he’d do it all the same. Unwilling to totally waste the body before giving the leftovers to the sea.

There was a soft thump and Buggy stopped. Looking up at the edge of the pier to find it was, indeed, a woman. Small with delicate features, hair long, curling strands of oak like her eyes. Her expression was subdued but her eyes were wide with interest.

“Continue. Please.” She stated softly. “I like your song.”

Buggy blinked, a little thrown. If this was some new game, he really didn’t fucking appreciate it.

His eyes narrowed.

“What game are you playing at, woman?” He hissed and she titled her head.

“No game. I just wanted to hear you better.” She replied like that’s all there was to it.

“Didn’t hear enough about the men I’ve killed, eh? Thought you could bat your eyes and laugh at me up close and personal without consequences?!” Buggy’s tail curled and thrashed in agitation, scaring away the fish as his fists clenched. Poised and ready to strike.

“What’s there to laugh about?”

Buggy’s heart stuttered and he jerked back like he’d been struck.

“P-Plenty! Men and women have laughed at me for plenty!”

“Why? Did you tell a good joke? Wow… great singer and funny. No wonder you make it so hard to find you. Must get old being bothered all the time.” She mused as though that was at all a sane train of thought. “I can… duck out of sight if it helps? I promise I won’t say anything else—I just wanted to hear more of your song. Does it have a name?”

Buggy was completely fucking baffled at the idea that he’d be playing hard to get because he was so damn popular.

And he was also flustered that she’d asked after his song. She may as well have presented him a necklace of pearls and shells threaded with her hair!

“I-I—there’s no name but mine. I just… sing. I… you really like it? You’re not playing a trick on me—because if you are just to laugh at my nose or voice I’m going to enjoy ripping out your throat!” She jerked back, clearly startled by the venom in his voice.

“Your nose? Why would I laugh at your nose? And the only reason I’m here is because I think your song is beautiful. Nothing to laugh at there.” She informed him softly, her expression falling. “Is that what usually happens? People find you to… laugh at you? I’m so sorry… do you… want me to go?” she asked, voice soothing a part of his chest that just ached the more sincere she seemed.

Buggy was starting to think he wouldn’t be able to handle it if she was joking around with him like everyone else.

“Prove it.” Buggy demanded hoarsely, baring his fangs. “Get down here and prove to me that you’re not going to laugh. Right here in my arms—the minute you so much as chuckle, your life is mine.” Buggy barely finished his ultimatum before she was slipped off the edge of the pier and into the water.

Gasping at the chill with wide eyes before swimming to him. Buggy reaching down to pull her firmly against him. Pulling her beneath him and slipping his tail around her body, pinning her in place.

She looked up at him in awe, barely minding the thick, wet muscle of his tail curled around her legs and neck. Tipping her head to look at him, the moon reflecting in her eyes. Not an ounce of fear but want aplenty.

The fear that she was playing a cruel game on him faded away as she stared unblinkingly, chest heaving in a sigh as she smiled. Not in humor, but yearning. Her hand resting on the thinnest part of his tail that curled around her neck.

“Front row seats… I didn’t think you could be more beautiful.” She murmured thickly, as though drunk from the sight of him. “Sing for me?”

Buggy felt pride and triumph swell in his chest, heady from the implication of her praise. His hair pooling around and in the curls of her hair as he loomed over her. Blocking out the moonlight.

There was no way she knew what she was doing. His hands caging in her head as he drank in the warmth from her body and gaze.

“And to whom do I, Buggy the great siren, dedicate my song to?” Buggy cooed, head spinning with lingering anxiety and elation.

One wrong move and he’d be devastated for life.

And hers forfeit.

“Anna. Your captivated audience is called Anna.” She whispered.

“Anna…” She sighed, body melting in his coils beneath him. “You have no idea what you’ve done~” Buggy sang softly, voice resonating deep in his chest.

“Keep singing with that beautiful voice and I’ll never care—especially not when you look at me like that, Buggy.” Anna breathed faintly, seemingly without a single thought as to what it would do to Buggy.

Buggy settled his weight down onto her firmly, allowing her the privilege of feeling his song resonate in his chest. Forearms resting beside her head as his claws teased her curls and brushed under her eyes as she blinked slowly. Utterly bewitched by his voice and unafraid of the violence he could easily do. Vulnerable and lovely beneath him. His breath teasing her lips as he slowly leaned in closer, voice a low croon.

Her hand slipped up his neck, resting on his cheek as she lifted her lips to his. Intimately drinking in his song as her eyes slid shut. Soft and warm against his sea-stained lips, Buggy felt his heart race. The part of him that craved companionship soaring with greed.

Thoughts of the coming daylight gone as his song twined with low moans and slow, teasing kisses. His and hers.

His. And hers.

“Sweet little lady~” Buggy finally drew back when he felt the warmth of the sunrise on his back. Anna softly moaned in question, eyes fluttering in exhaustion. “Be mine and you’ll never go without a song in your heart.”

“Yes. What do I need to do?” She asked, licking her lips with a sigh. Buggy smiled.

“Let me court you. Braid a necklace of pearls and shells with your hair—I’ll do the same. Come back right here in a month under the full moon—or never go near the water again.” She laughed and if Buggy hadn’t been so relaxed and sated, he would have squeezed her throat until she turned as blue as his hair.

“I’ll do it in a week.” Anna laughed. “If that’s all I need to do, give me a week. I’d do it in a day but I don’t exactly keep pearls on me.”

Buggy froze, lips twitching into a smile.

“A month, little lady. And if you have a hard time finding pearls, come to the waters and call my name. If you trust me with your life, I’ll take you into the deep where there are plenty.” Buggy smirked. But, unsurprisingly, she didn’t falter even a little.

“Why wait?”

Buggy snorted.

“You’ve been up all night listening to my song. Even little weirdos like you need sleep.” Buggy tapped her nose with a smile. “But, if you come back here tonight, I guess we can make courtship necklaces together.”

Her expression twisted into something more mournful and Buggy was briefly fearful that something was in his way. An engagement or unescapable commitment elsewhere. His stomach turning as fury banked in his bones. Whoever or whatever it was, he’d rip it apart with his bare hands. He’d waited his whole life for something—someone—like this.

He wasn’t letting go without a fight.

“Do I really have to leave you? Can’t I sleep right here?” She asked morosely.

Buggy let slip a bark of laughter.

“Yes. Your back will thank me later.” Buggy sneered. “So desperate for me, it’s a wonder you didn’t throw yourself off the pier sooner.”

“That would have been rude!” Anna snapped, nuzzling into his chest. “But I’m so comfy right now…” Buggy curled his arms around her and sighed.

“Let’s get those necklaces made and then I’ll figure out somewhere we can sleep together comfortably. I’m not a scoundrel, you know. I’ve got standards.” Buggy huffed. She laughed into his chest and Buggy barely tensed.

“I can’t wait to meet yours.” Anna hummed.

Buggy’s smile softened and he pressed his lips to her soft hair.

Voice a breathy whisper.

“You already do.”