I needs to be known. That after so long of sucking at magic the gathering I did a play that allowed my beloved, very good magic player, to loss

And I am very proud of myself

Did they make the deck I was using? Possibly 🙄

Alrighty, everyone mute me here cause I'm about to go on a tirade.

Look, I've been playing video games since I was young. Very young. Probably too young, if we're being completely honest. We had an old Nintendo 64 from my step-dad's youth that I used to play religiously. I played my ps2 for hours and hours a day as a way to cope with a.. shall we say unstable household. I had Gameboy Advanced, Gameboy color, all the way up to Nintendo DS to the switch. This is something I've been doing since I was barely old enough to speak. I used to get games at Blockbuster, okay? I played the OG Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights on a clunky old computer. Even when we were flat-busted ass broke with absolutely no money to spare, I would play at friend's houses. I would play old AV consoles on those fat ass TVs. It's my oldest hobby besides reading, is the point here.

My point is I'm old enough to remember when gaming was a niche hobby that you could actually get bullied for. It was back when studios made games mostly out of passion, and not to sell to a broader audience. There wasn't really even such a thing as microtransactions. You bought a full and complete game. Blizzard released good products, actually (unbelievable, I know.) Games knew their audience, and there wasn't necessarily an assload of money in it, so it was mostly made out of love for the games and their community.

Gaming has grown in popularity over the last 10-20 years, and that can be an excellent thing! Really! It can be! But Baldur's Gate 3 winning game of the year brought something to my attention that has been driving me mad for a few days now. It's a concept I've found myself repeating for a long time, but barely just sort of sat down to analyze it:

Not everything is for you.

The last few winners of GOTY have had some... sour people be very upset. Not that this is uncommon, but especially the last few years. People saying Elden Ring is 'too hard,' people saying that Baldur's Gate 3 is nothing but pedantic dice rolls, etc. People who, in general, were very unhappy that these games did not appeal to them in particular, and they were very vocal about how these games should be changed to appeal to them personally.

What I'm saying is that these people, along with most others, were not there during the days of niche gaming, where when you didn't like a game, you didn't necessarily throw a tantrum and stamp your feet and demand that these games aren't good and that they need to change, but rather, you just... didn't play them. They weren't made for you.

We live in an age where absolutely everything is being scraped for every last dollar. Games that used to be made out of passion for their communities are now being made to sell, sell, sell as many copies as physically possible to everyone. If it won't pander to every last person, it's not going to be made. Things are being 'streamlined' to make the games appeal to anyone and everyone who might play them.

'Streamlined' in this case, means 'dumbed down.' As Bethesda famously says, KISS: Keep It Simple Stupid.

Games that used to be a little bit more 'niche' and 'complex' like Morrowind, are now games like Skyrim, that are dumbed down to sell to everyone. They remove a lot of the aspects that made them beloved in the name of 'garnering a new and broader audience.' Older folks, adults, children, everyone. But this attitude of inclusivity isn't as great as it might seem initially. It isn't done out of community. It is done to get absolutely every last person possible to empty their wallet at the altar. To get every last fucking dollar out of everyone.

Games are passionless money pits. They sell you a half-baked, simple product that insults your intelligence. It's impossible to fail quests, because God forbid one person doesn't like that and asks for their money back. They won't touch on complex topics, because they don't want to cause a controversy that might drain their prospective bank account. They can't make things so intricate that God forbid a toddler might not understand them. They are milquettoast, miserable little games that appeal not even to people who enjoy games, but rather, people who don't.

Yes, they are making games to try and get money from people who don't even like them. They can't make anything nuanced or put a learning curve or put any actual work or fun into the game, because people who don't actually like playing games might realize "Hey, actually, I'm not enjoying this at all." and not give anymore money.

I'll get to the point.

Games being disliked by certain people is a good thing. It means those companies were unwavering on their vision and their loyalty to their fans. It means it was a game made from passion, and not just to be marketed and sold to literally every living person. They were made with their communities in mind, and no offense, but if you aren't one of the people that likes the things those communities stand for, maybe you should seek it elsewhere rather than trying to change something someone loves to suit you instead. You are not the demographic here.

You hear people that hate turnbased saying that Baldur's Gate 3 should not have been turnbased. Guess what? That's literally DnD. It's a DnD game. Don't like the lack of day cycles? Again, that's long resting in DnD. Pedantic dice rolls? That's fucking DnD, baby. Maybe you don't like it, but just because the game got popular does not mean it was made for you. Too much gay? Go away. Baldur's Gate was not made to sell copies to everyone. In fact, it was a relatively niche prospect that gained massive popularity near the end because of a scandal. I've been with them since Patch 2 of Early Access, and it very much was a passion project by people who loved DnD and TT games. They did not think it was going to hit this level of popularity, and they stuck to their guns even when it did. I cannot tell you how rare and remarkable that is.

Dark Souls is too hard? Maybe it's not the game for you. If you don't like certain design aspects, that's fine and okay! But Miyazaki and Fromsoft should not be forced to change their vision of their passion project because you personally do not like it. It was around before you, and they have a loyal community that does love the game just how it is. If you want a game with a difficulty slider, maybe you should play a game that has one. I'm sorry if you don't like the fundamentals of the game, but they exist for a reason, the community likes it, and no, it's not just for elitist reasons like I see all too often. You just do not understand because you don't like the game and do not like being told no for once by a company that has integrity.

I'm not trying to insult you. I'm being honest when I say that it's an attitude that is expected in the current climate where everything is changed when people complain the loudest because changing it means more money, and more money is the goal. These people are not your friends. Do not forget that. They are not changing it because they care about you. They are changing it because they think they can con you out of another dime.

People have a masochistic relationship with these companies. They have gotten used to being pandered to. They have gotten used to being sold a shitty game that everyone from their grandmother to their toddler niece and nephew can beat. And no, there's nothing wrong with games for everyone. But it's not because they wanted to make a game for everyone. It was because they wanted everyone's money.

People make hour long youtube videos about how Baldur's Gate would have been better if it was real time, and if it was more like this game and that game (namely games that pander to everyone) and then, in the same week, release a video bewailing that all games are so bad now and they don't understand why. They grasp that greed has a part in it, but they don't understand that they are directly contributing to the problem.

Games are bad because when everything is for everyone, nothing is truly for you. You won't have a chance to be passionate about anything, because on the off chance you find something you love, you will inevitably watch it die the same way that those of us who have been here forever did, because someone outside of the community doesn't like it, so it has to go because Christ forbid they don't sell two more copies.

And no, I am not talking about 'woke' or 'political correctness' so you alt-right weirdos can keep the fuck off of this post. I am talking about things like a lack of quest markers. Complex puzzles that you can fail. Political nuance. Things that take brainpower and are fun but not everyone likes.

Maybe not everything is for you. Maybe a game is allowed to exist even if you don't like it. Maybe communities are allowed to have their thing while you have yours. Maybe you have gotten so used to being pandered and catered to with every game being this blase, half-baked experience that is sorta liked by most, but... beloved by none. It's a forgettable, boring experience that garners no real loyalty, but at most a "Ha, that was alright." And then you put it on the shelf never to touch it again.

It means these companies aren't thinking of money; they are thinking of their communities. They are thinking of their fans and the people who love their games. Every time Miyazaki says 'no' to changing the formula that we love about his games, he is thinking of his loyalty to his community and his passion to the game. When Sven refuses to change aspects of the game to suit people who don't like DnD, he is staying loyal to the DnD community.

More companies should be doing this. Not less.

But consumers need to remember that one little creedo: Not everything is for me.

It can exist and I can exist. I do not have to play it and I do not have to enjoy it. It doesn't mean that it's bad. It means it's not for me. And that's fine.

I just read part four of enemy of my enemy is my kid 😁

I love how you showed my beloved egg man’s legacy living on in Shadow Man. I noticed you described his teasing as “egging on a villain”, that’s clever

Shadows is so sweet, joking with Mender to help her feel better. And he does the same with Hirra too? So cute 😻

🥚

We are so glad you liked it :D

It was a lot of work, but the end result was so worth it. Especially since you (and hopefully some others) noticed so many little things!

The egg jokes, while more subtle, and just as eggtastic as always (if we do say so ourselves). And as for Shadows and his incredible wholesomeness, he's not done with Sadie. In fact, I think they're doing something cute right now! Lets check it out.

Hirra and Sadie were studying together for their exams, and while Sadie had choosen to take a break, Hirra hadn't reached a breaking point yet. The two were outside on a rooftop near Lukas’s villan lair, and their respective mentors were both aware of their locations (not that it was needed; this was a time of truce for the two). So when Lukas dropped by with some cookies for the hard-working students, it wasn't too much of a suprise.

While Hirra had fully entered focus mode, Mender was off to the side just looking over the building's. They had thought about reading, but their mind needed a break after all the complex work they'd been doing; getting a medical degree was definitely easier when they could count most of their hero work as residency, but it still wasn't easy. This was especially true considering she took a few classes that she didn't really need, just finding them interesting (sue her if she liked something other than healing and wanted to learn more about it).

Shadow Wraith (who was also in costume, because while there was certainly more trust between them all, it wasn't "reveal your full face and therefore civilian identity and everything attached to that" level of trust) handed Mender a cookie and sat down at a small table near them. The rooftop they were on was an out-of-us rooftop restaurant, so there were many tables, one of which featuring a chess set! Calling over to Mender he asked, "How much longer do you think Hirra will be?" She turned, and not wanting to be rude, walked over and took a seat.

"Honestly Mr. Shadows, proably like 30 minutes. She started this 20 minutes ago, and the typical time for this sort of test is 50. And she'll probably want to double check questions and everything, so all that time should be used based on previous patterns." Mender replied.

Shadows opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a yell from Hirra, "You've been charting my test taking patterns?"

Sadie rolled her eyes and looked back, "Hirra, focus on your test!" At that Shadows let out a light snort and then nodded.

"Well to take up the time we could play a game of chess." He gestured to the board in between them. Mender brightened at the idea, shoving the rest of Shadow's delicious cookie into her mouth and nodding.

"Yes that sounds great! But if I win, I want the recipe for these." The cookies were really good.

"Hmmm, fine, but of I win-" Shadows tried to bargin, but Sadie suddenly had a cunning idea and interrupted him.

"How about this? If you win, I'll tell you what Alexandria's perfect date is! Then you can finally ask her out." She glanced over at Hirra as she spoke, but thankfully the other sidekick had fallen back into focusing.

Shadows turned crimson and weakly replied, "I don't know what you mean."

Mender raised an eyebrow at that, "Mr. Shadows with all due respect, that's a lie. I literally helped kidnap you and Lady Alexandria so Kim and I could prove you liked her; which we did prove by the way. Also, don't think you were sneaky with that 'my lady' back in Dragonfly’s warehouse. I may've been delirious, and she may've been incredibly oblivious, but I still noticed." Lukas was fully marron by now, and Mender, as always, noticed. "Oh don't be embarrassed; it was cute! But please, don't try to lie to me. So, chess?"

The villan let out a deep breath at that, trying to regain composure, and lightly nodded.

Sadie re-brightened at that, and went to set up the game board, choosing to have Shadows play white so she could figure out his style.

She gestured to him, and he made his move. She made hers, and so on. Back and forth the two went. But by around 5 moves in, the hero realized something disastrous that could foil her plan. As much as she wanted those cookies, she wanted the villan to get a movr on and ask her friend Alexandria out! So she was playing easy on him... but clearly not easy enough.

In 2 more moves she could get a checkmate against the villain, and she doubted he would even see it coming. The gameplan had to change, because Mr. Shadows really sucked at chess. She pursed her lips at the board and glanced up at Shadows, still thrown off by the terrible move he'd just made. It didn't seem fake either; he was truly terrible. So she let out a breath, burried her pride, and made the worst possible move.

--

Shadows was confused. Up untill this point, his opponent had been playing fairly well (though he had countered her attacks quite well if he did say so himself) but that move was... interesting. He wasn't sure if it was a trick, or if the Masked Mender was good at opening strategy and nothing else. So he made his move and watched as she grited her teeth, and then placed her queen directly in his rook's path.

--

Sadie glared at the board, incredibly annoyed with her last move. But it was nessacry, for Alexandria. That was the mantra she chanted in her head as she watched Mr. Shadows take her queen with no punishment; the rook survived, there hadn't been any trick. And so she let him take her bishops, knights, rooks, and most of her pawns, while barely taking any of his. And then she let him take her KING. It was... frustrating but, for Alexandria, for Alexandria, for Alexandria.

But now came the good part. Once the villain quietly celebrated his win, she smiled falsely at him. "Oh no, I lost! And I really wanted that cookies recipie. " While the first part was false, the lie was covered by the true disappointment about the cookies, so Shadows didn't notice a thing. "So, a date for Alexandria. First, you need flowers. She is a big fan of flowers symbolism, and normally I would suggest white roses or something, she hates roses and says they smell bad. Which they do by the way. So sunflowers, or really anything meaningful, and she'll be happy. Because this is a first date, a restaurant is a bit much. Have a picnic somewhere out of the way, like on a rooftop here!" And that she paused and gestured around, clearly proud of the place she and Hirra had so cleverly found.

"Also she doesn't like seafo- why aren't you taking notes?" She looked at Shadows in confusion, and then handed him a spare notepad after quickly filling out what she'd already said. "She doesn't like sea food, and also if you hurt her I will have to hurt you. I really like you Mr. Shadows, but that woman is one of my dearest friends, and while I try to avoid hurting people, it isn't always avoidable." At that she looked the villain across from her in the eyes, "Make it avoidable, okay?"

Shadows nodded, particularly amused, but slightly scared. While he could proably beat Mender in a fight without even hurting her (she was capable, but he had many years on her) he knew she wasn't stupid. While the young woman was very kind and loving, that translated to protectiveness, a feeling many heroes and even the general public shared about heroes and Alexandria specifically. The Masked Mender would not fight him on her own; she'd bring the whole Hero Agency with her, and the general public wouldn’t let him rest. Lucky for Shadows, he was saved by the bell before Mender could go into more threats. Well not the bell, Hirra!

"Ooh cookies! Thanks Shadows! Also wow Mender you must suck at chess if he beat you, he is terrible at it." With that Mender was distracted from Shadows and glared at Hirra, and then realised she had to play along.

"Yes indeed," she sighed out, "I'm so bad at logic games like these."

And so the two villains left, the practice test being the last thing either of them had wanted to study together, and Mender's only company was a chess board.

"It was for Alexandria..." she said, still glaring at it. And then her work phone buzzed, and she lept from the rooftop, off to help defeat some random villain who was probably actually fun to play chess with.

Fic Recs: Detroit: Become Human

this game was so fun to play (even if my reaction time isn’t the best) and i love so many fics about it, so here are some of my favourites! (mostly connor-centric)

You Are Strange by self_indulgent_authorship

Cyberlife believes they have successfully created an android capable of being transferred from body to body, even after death. RK800 313 248 317 -51 is on his eleventh body, and the humans rejoice. They name him Connor, and forget about the broken remains of his fifty previous iterations. They forget the terrible ways they brought them to an end, and focus instead on the remarkable success of an android that can never die. Except they are wrong. Connor has never been transferred. Connor has never died. Because Connor is only RK800 -51, not RK800 -40, the first to be “transferred,” and not any of the other forty-nine RK800s that have been activated. He is only -51, only Connor, pretending to be something he has never been, hiding the dozens of voices constantly warring for space and begging for safety.

i love the worldbuilding that goes on in this fic, with the many different rk800 models having a shared consciousness. i also love how the presence of these many different models affect both how connor interacts with others, and the choices he makes in the main plot.

The Double Life of Connor, The Deviant Detective by TheProphetMich

Connor gets appointed to the DPD as the first (non-prototype) android detective months before deviants enter the public eye. He continues to work alongside Hank after he deviates and saves androids while pretending he's still a machine.

i love the new detective cases in this fic that are very well thought out, and also how connor’s interactions have changed due to his long-lasting deviancy. plus, connor & luther friendship my beloved!

Pennies in the pool by WabiSabi

It´s not that Connor was developed to become a deviant, but he was designed with the deviancy phenomenon in mind. Meaning: were he to fell into it, they've planned countermeasures; if he didn´t, then it means they succeeded in creating a new code that it´s free of the problem. A win-win situation, really. (Or where Connor accomplishes his mission, becomes obsolete, and it´s deactivated. Then he wakes up back on his first day of existence, with an Amanda and a CyberLife none the wiser to any problem. So he saves Daniel. And keeps saving other androids, not entirely sure why but unable to stop himself. Becoming an enigmatic symbol of the Android Revolution had not remotely been part of his plans, however. And Hank and Markus are not helping.)

this fic has done the time travel aspect really well and allows the events of canon to play out in ways not possible in the main game. daniel also plays a much larger role in this one, with connor & daniel friendship

Random Acts of Deviance by HighlyOveractiveImagination

Following the incident at Cyberlife Tower, Hank is having a hard time trusting that Connor is always Connor. Even after the success of the Android revolution and Connor's reinstatement at the DPD, Hank still needs reassurance that he hasn't been tricked again if Connor is out of sight for too long. Cue what Connor calls "Random Acts of Deviance".

this is a crack fic with a helping of angst towards the end of it. the humour in this is great, especially with all the different random acts connor does

Deviating and Solving Crime with 100% Human Detective Connor by CaptainKenway

Due to their prototype deviating on its first mission, the RK800 series is immediately discontinued and dismantled. Newly woken up in the junkyard with a will to live and actual wants and desires, Connor cobbles himself back together with no mission in place. What does Connor want to do? Might as well give this detective thing a shot. Featuring Connor passing as human at the DPD I present… 5 times Connor was almost revealed as an android + 1 time he was

the interactions between connor and his co-workers while he is ‘human’ are so interesting when compared to their interactions in-game. not to mention we get connor doing his best to save deviants while pretending he is just a normal human detective

cha-cha sliding into those dms by presidenthomewrecker

Connor downloads a new slang dictionary to make himself more relatable to Lieutenant Anderson. Debatably, he's successful.

didn’t know i needed connor saying ‘one thicc stab wound lieutenant’ but we learn new things every day. he really does act like he’s been shat out of 2016 and this fic is all the better for it

Holding a Gun by self_indulgent_authorship

Some thought Markus was rA9, the savior of androids who had come from among them to free their people. All of their people. His message seemed to prove that—peaceful and nonviolent, even in the face of direct attack from humans. But one decision made out of fear in the shadows of an abandoned church shattered that illusion for many—broke it, shut it down as quickly as the android who lay dying on the dirty floor, all for the threat he never had the choice to become. (Or, Markus decides not to trust Connor in the church, and the androids of Jericho don't take too kindly to that)

this fic has done a great job at portraying how connor’s death due to markus would impact both the other deviant androids and how the events of canon would play out, instead of the non-reaction we get in the main game. i love it!

WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

-

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

-

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

--

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

-

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

-

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

--AA4 SPOILERS AHEAD--

okay gang, I'm through with Apollo justice!

overall i have to say i really enjoyed the game – it was funny, witty, absurd and endearing just like the previous titles. however, i must say this one lacked a little... finesse? attention to detail? i don't know how to explain it, but I feel like there are many loose ends that won't be tied in the following games. just as an example, during turnabout serenade, the victim, letouse, named lamiroir as the witness. however, how in the hell did he see her if she was up in the vents carrying out the teleporting illusion? did he know beforehand? if he did know and they did clear this up, i didn't notice, and if I didn't notice that means they didn't explain it that well

that was just an example, but I definitely saw this game more rushed than the trilogy and less polished. nevertheless, i did enjoy it a lot and had a great time, it just felt... short. in comparison, it took me two months to finish the trilogy, which means I spent a little more two weeks into each game. i went though aa4 in a week. it felt incredibly brief and less fleshed out than its predecessors, which is why, I assume, it has so many detractors. worth playing, in any case.

the plot was considerably less batshit insane than in other games, which I appreciate (no more big top induced brain rot) and most things felt more realistic, save apollo and trucy's magical powers. the cases were fairly compelling and engaging as were the supporting characters: i am particularly fond of klavier, who felt a lot like edgeworth in the sense that he cared more about "finding the truth" that winning over apollo and was willing to collaborate. he was also pretty damn funny, and did air guitar like a master, so he's up there in my book with the rest of the prosecutors. he didn't fall short compared to them, which was my biggest fear.

as for game mechanics, i really did have a blast with this one! not only does ema, my beloved, sweep in with the latest forensic techniques (which i wish we'd used more, and more often! they were really really cool and fun to do!), but in comes perception, apollo's special ability, which i definitely like more than the magatama. there is nothing that I liked more than finding the twitch, the gulp or, in kristoph's case, that shock of a scar. recovering the magatama was fun too, even if it was only for a while. it's definitely a little more challenging than the trilogy to play, you feel like you're more "on your own" (specially during the mason system, fuck the mason system it took me HOURS), but to someone who has played the previous games in the saga it must feel like no big deal

the Big Reveal was... actually good? when it comes to ace attorney i expect a "oh i dated you as iris all along uhuhuhu" with no previous foreshadowing at all, however, this time the Big Reveal was properly foreshadowed. well played, capcom. putting the player in place of the jurist and seeing she's lamiroir, wearing one of thalassa's bracelets, is a really smart detail. HOWEVER. though the "thalassa is actually lamiroir, trucy's mom is alive" and the "shadi smith was zak gramarye" twists were finely done, the "oh haven't you heard turns out thalassa had another son" one sucks. it sucks ass. there were clues that shadi was zak, such as the locket he was wearing when he was killed, and there were clues about thalassa's fuzzy past, but there were very little clues about apollo and trucy being siblings up until the mason system section. "ohhh thalassa had a first marriaggge and for some reason he ditched her sonnn" feels EXTREMELY pulled out of their asses and an afterthought, even though I don't think it was an afterthought. it was established from the beginning trucy and apollo shared an ability no one else had, sure, so I think it was indeed planned from the start, however, the way it played out was lazy and really out of nowhere. again, it's to be expected from Plot Twists And Lawyers: the videogame, but I did have higher expectations from the fourth game in a saga. figured they'd solve this issue by now. they never even say that apollo was an orphan or had doubts about who his parents were! they really did an oopsie at that one, very poorly laid out. points for the jurist scene, though.

a final comment on the villain... kristoph gavin. oh, kristoph gavin. listen, I'm no amateur. I've played the trilogy and seen what a truly fleshed out villain can do to a game: von karma infuriated me, matt engarde shocked me and dahlia hawthorne terrified me... however, kristoph. fucking kristoph. he was SO different from the previous Big Bads™ I've encountered, mostly because they all have a pretty clear motive: selfishness, greed, perfectionism. but kristoph. that fucking bitch had not one, not two, but five psyche locks!!!! and they were black!!!! and the motives for what he did are never cleared up completely or explained!!!! now you're expecting me to say "what a lame ass villain, so unfinished" but I don't think that's what they went for. no, i think it's completely intentional. because knowing von karma killed edgeworth's father because he had ruined his perfect record is scary, being in the dark about why kristoph was so obsessed with ruining phoenix's life is absolutely terrifying. it can't be just because he was replaced as gramarye's attorney! why did he forge the evidence in the first place? klavier was dead scared of him, but why? does it have to do with this case, or with their shared past? he's really, really compelling as a villain and held the story together very well. furthermore, looking at his eyes during the perception hoping the habit is there only to discover it's a FUCKING SKULL in his hand... shivers down my spine. actual shivers. his breakdown is also one of the most disturbing ones I've seen, up there with matt engarde's. just, wow. fucking owen wilson wow. tip of the hat, capcom, for you have excelled there.

anyway, overall that was a really fun game! my heart is broken by phoenix being a poker player in a dump more time that he'd been a lawyer, but I know this soon will be fixed. not sure if I should play miles edgeworth investigations or dual destinies next. probably will do dd because I really REALLY want to meet the saucy new prosecutor and phoenix's next daughter athena, but I'll see.

can't wait to advance the story! haven't been this excited about a saga in years to be honest with you I'm having F U N

tldr: apollo justice was a blast despite the usual ace attorney™ plot holes, kristoph gives me nightmares, let's go to the next one! WHOOO

what i don’t understand is sansa stans who insist that she learnt from the best (cersei ans littlefinger) and so she’ll be an amazing ruler and player. first of all, when did she learn about the game from cersei? she was a hostage in kings landing, she wasn’t sitting in on small council meetings or anything and cersei definitely wasn’t telling her about all the moves she was making. the only time cersei really gives her ‘advice’ is during blackwater when she says that ‘tears/sex is a woman’s weapon’. regardless, cersei isn’t someone you want to be taught from, she makes terrible decision after terrible decision in affc. (since we’re on this topic, dany is the younger and more beautiful queen who foils cersei).

as for littlefinger, he’s definitely not a leader or ruler. he subtly manipulates things here and there and gets away with a lot of it because he stays under the radar. he’s not someone who inspires devotion for sure. nothing about the vale arc in affc puts sansa in an actual leadership position.

I agree it's best that no one learns how to be a ruler from Cersei Lannister, considering how much she messes up in AFfC.

And yes, it’s my opinion that Sansa's arc is leading towards outwitting Littlefinger and understanding how to play the game rather than ruling. And with two books left to go, she still has a lot of learning to do and being able to process the information available to her, analyze it and connect the dots and use the data to her advantage.

I just finished my ADwD and TWoW sample chapter re-reads so a rather long essay under the cut.

Sansa did acknowledge early on that unlike Cersei, if she were to become queen, she would prioritize getting the people's love over their fear - like the Tyrells did. But unlike the majority opinion of fandom, I think that this points to Sansa giving more importance to PR than to actual ruling. That it was better to be a loved monarch than a feared one.

It’s funny that Sansa stans often point the finger at Dany as being narcissistic, entitled and arrogant, when the few comments that Sansa makes about being queen revolve around her.

“Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace. ” - Sansa, AGoT

“ If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.”  - Sansa, ACoK

Compare her quotes to those of current leaders/rulers in the books:

A good lord protects his people, he reminded himself. - Bran, ACoK

“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?“ - Daenerys, ASoS

“And I know that a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.” Davos, ASoS

I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the throne."  - Stannis, ASoS

“I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord— what are these wildlings, if not men?”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

The other leaders in the quotes are putting the people first, prioritizing the people’s needs first no matter how much it affects the rulers themselves. Jon’s decision to let the Wildlings through the wall is necessary, but highly unpopular among his men. And ruling is more than just being beloved by the people -

"Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel,” the old man had said, “the same council that I one gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took the ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill boy and let the man be born.” The old man felt Jon’s face. “You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is the hard part of ruling be it in the middle ages or now. It’s not enough to be a good man to be an effective ruler. It’s complicated and it’s hard.  How do I resolve this thing? Do I do the moral thing? But what about  the political consequences of the moral thing? Do I do the pragmatic, cynical thing and kind of screw the people who are screwed by it? I mean, it is HARD. - GRRM

In this context, Sansa’s quote about being queen comes off as naive, ignorant, fairy taleish, like the queens in her stories - where everyone loves the queens and that’s all that’s necessary to be one.

It’s easy for Sansa stans to nitpick and criticize each and every one of Dany’s decisions and then praise future best queen Sansa - who has done absolutely nothing as a leader and has instead thus far served as an uncritical narrator to events around her. We don’t know what kind of leader Sansa would be because she has never been put in those situations or even shown an aptitude for strategic thinking.

Let me use an example I came across while recently re-reading ADwD and TWoW sample chapters. TWoW spoilers - if you don’t want to be spoiled on TWoW, please read no further.

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

In ADwD, Jon is confronted with food shortage if they let the Wildlings through the wall:

“If we had sufficient coin, we could buy food from the south and bring it in by ship,” the Lord Steward said. We could, thought Jon, if we had the gold, and someone willing to sell us food. Both of those were lacking. Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. - Jon Snow, ADwD

I have already written extensively on Jon’s political know-how of the North and using it in his strategizing and planning of Stannis’ campaign. But here we see that his knowledge extends to the south, where, knowing that the Vale stayed neutral during the WOT5K and it’s geography of being fertile, he sees it as a possible source to buy food for the Wall.

Now let’s go to the Vale in book 6, TWoW, Alayne’s sample chapter. After being called a bastard by Harry the Heir, a hurt Sansa goes looking for Littlefinger and chances upon a scheme of price gouging:

Near the bottom, she heard Lord  Grafton’s booming voice, and followed.

“The  merchants are clamoring to buy and the lords are clamoring to sell,”  the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders.  His hair was a dirty blond mop.  “How am I to stop that, my lord?”

“Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale”

“These prices, though,” protested fat Lord Belmore,” 

“These prices are more than fair. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher.”

“Perhaps,”  said Belmore, doubtfully. “Bronze Yohn will not wait, ” Grafton complained. “He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that.”

“Let  us hope so,”  said Petyr. “When their granaries are empty, they will  need every scrap of that silver to buy sustenance from us. And now if  you will excuse me, my lord, it would seem my daughter has need of me.”

“Lady Alayne,” Lord Grafton said. “You look bright-eyed this morning.” ” You  are kind to say so, my lord. Father, I am sorry to disturb you, but I  thought you would want to know that the Waynwoods have arrived.”

We are now in book 6 territory, this would be the point where a future queen/leader Sansa reflects on what she just saw - Littlefinger is hoarding grain and letting Royce and others sell theirs so that he can later increase the prices for demand from a starving populace and have the rest of the Vale Lords be dependent on him and with winter coming, there is currently much demand for the grain.

This would be where, if GRRM is writing for the future leader of the North, Sansa would wonder what is happening in the North with respect to the food situation since she just heard that merchants are clamoring for grain and winter is coming. Or she would think on LF’s scheme - is it a good plan or a bad plan? Does she think that Yohn Royce is right to sell his grain? What is her view on hoarding all the food for price gouging while people possibly starve elsewhere? What does she think of starving the populace for profit? Does she approve? Or does she think it’s ethically wrong?

We get no answers to these questions to give us a hint of what kind of ruler future best queen Sansa will be. It’s a blank slate because while Sansa acts as a narrator here and describes one of LF’s little schemes, she herself as no opinion on it. Instead Sansa’s immediate concern when speaking to Littlefinger is that Harry the Heir called her a bastard in front of everyone. Meanwhile Dany in ADwD:

Skahaz had been named Warden of the River, with charge of all the ferries, dredges, and irrigation ditches along the Skahazadhan for fifty leagues, but the Shavepate had refused that ancient and honorable office, as Hizdahr called it, preferring to retire to the modest pyramid of Kandaq.

Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city. Beyond Meereen's walls of many-colored brick, Dany's rule was tenuous at best. Thousands of slaves still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen's storehouses held ample supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need …

The sea provides all the salt that Qarth requires, but I would gladly take as many olives as you cared to sell me. Olive oil as well."

"I have none to offer. The slavers burned the trees." Olives had been grown along the shores of Slaver's Bay for centuries; but the Meereenese had put their ancient groves to the torch as Dany's host advanced on them, leaving her to cross a blackened wasteland. "We are replanting, but it takes seven years before an olive tree begins to bear, and thirty years before it can truly be called productive. What of copper?"

Sansa does not come anywhere close to Dany and Jon in terms of leadership and that she’s so often pushed as this future queen in fandom, including by bnfs and so called asoiaf experts, is baffling, frustrating and hilarious.

What, if any, attributes does Sansa have to even be a peacetime ruler? After the war means rebuilding from scratch, making deals, hard bargaining, strategizing, using political tools, rebuilding the economy for war torn lands, get in the food, grow the food - precisely the kind of thing Dany is doing in Meereen. Or Jon thinking of building green houses in the Gift to grow food.

But Sansa building a snow model of Winterfell means that she’s the best qualified peace time ruler? Reddit dudebros and so called tumblr feminists united in wanting female characters who wield soft power and uphold the patriarchy as future rulers.

Even when it comes to personal growth, while Sansa has come a long way from her AGoT days, she still has some catching up to do with her peers. After getting hold of LF, Sansa complains that Harry is a horrible person for calling her a bastard.

Come,” Petyr said, “walk with me.” He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon. “And how was your first meeting with Harry the Heir?”

“He’s horrible.”

“The world is full of horrors, sweet. By now you ought to know that. You’ve seen enough of them.”

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”

Now, personally, this is the point where I would like some introspection from Sansa. Remember when Sansa called out Jon as a jealous bastard in front of her friends in AGoT and Arya defended him?

Sansa sighed as she stitched.  “Poor Jon,” she said.  “He gets jealous because he's a bastard.”

“He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

“Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise. - Arya, AGoT

Considering the way Sansa ignored Joffrey’s attack on Arya, it’s a good bet that if Harry the Heir had called out Jon Snow as a bastard in front of everyone in AGoT, Sansa would not have an issue with it. Now that she is being insulted as one, she gets to experience the hurt that Jon felt everyday growing up in Winterfell as a real bastard.

But even here, she refuses to scrutinize the situation more than simply getting angry at being called a bastard. Sansa is often held up as this compassionate, kindest person, ‘beacon of hope for the future’, a queen who cares for the masses etc. But where is her questioning why the classist prejudice against bastards is in itself wrong?

She is angry that she is being called a bastard, she is not angry that bastards are treated as less than. She doesn’t question the societal prejudice against bastards, only angry that she has to pretend to be one and be insulted as one. She doesn’t spare a second reflecting on her bastard brother Jon Snow or question her low opinion of bastards:

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn’t been some mistake. - Sansa, AGoT

And that’s the difference I see between Sansa and characters like Dany, Arya, Jon, Brienne and even with Tyrion and Penny. While GRRM interrogates Westerosi society prejudices, feudalism, classism, sexism, slavery, ableism, bigotry, the effects of war on the small folk etc with these other characters, Sansa rarely reflects on these issues. That’s why it makes no sense when epithets like ‘embodiment of hope for the future’ is used to describe the character. Hope for whom? The small folk? The patriarchy? The feudal lords?

Sansa being nice to people like the stuttering Ser Wallace is held up as her being the kindest ever. But Jon is nice to Shireen, Arya is kind to Weasel, Jaime is kind to Tyrion. Why is kindness and compassion only highlighted for Sansa, like some unique feature of hers when many characters, even the villains, exhibit kindness?

This is Jon Snow in ADwD

“I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first?” He laughed. “If you mean to kill me, do it and be damned for a kinslayer. Stark and Karstark are one blood.”

“My name is Snow.”

“Bastard.”

“Guilty. Of that, at least.”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is Sansa Stark in TWoW:

Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. “Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger’s bastard?”  

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”  - Alayne, TWoW

Sansa in TWoW is as hurt by the bastard moniker as Jon Snow was in AGoT when addressed as such by Tyrion. She’s emotionally where Jon Snow was in AGoT, while Jon has matured enough to not care for such insults anymore. And this is book 6! I guess it makes sense considering Jon is 16 -17 and Sansa would be 13 - 14 years old, making her younger than him in AGoT. But this is why the whole ‘Jon should take Sansa’s advice to rule because she’s the smartest ever!’ trash the show pushed to hype up Sansa is complete nonsense.

I don’t know how many chapters GRRM will be devoting to Sansa in the Vale in TWoW, but there’s still a lot of growth and character development pending for book Sansa. As I have always said, Sansa has a lot of information but she rarely if ever introspects on what she has heard and seen. She knows that LF last had Jeyne Poole but at one point wonders where Jeyne Poole is... Just ask LF dammit! She knows that Lysa had Jon Arryn poisoned on LF’s say so and knows that SweetRobin is being dosed with dangerous levels of Sweetsleep and that LF is banking on his death and yet thinks that SweetRobin will be okay. She needs to start putting two and two together to come up with four and I suspect that in itself will take up the whole of TWoW.

So will Sansa become any kind of queen or ruler? No. If she survives the books, I can see her being Lady of the Vale and be moving the chess pieces around. I can see her gaining agency and maybe even be the real power in the Vale aka Littefinger. Just like Jon, Arya, Bran and Dany I think Sansa will be a darker character in TWoW. The game of thrones cannot be played honorably and she will need to get her hands dirty to outwit LF and take him down at his own game.

The point where Sansa simply stops narrating what she sees and actually starts analyzing what she sees in her POV chapters is when the student will become the master and I am excited to see that happening.

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

Hey guys! An anon requested some Yandere ABC'S with Sen, but I had to reupload cause the formatting was wrong!!! I hope it works this time, and I hope you find it anon! Let me know if you did!

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Hey Anon! Don't worry, requests are open permanently! So feel free to request as much as you want! I'm so glad you enjoy my writings, that makes me feel so happy! I hope you enjoy the ABC's prompt and I hope I did a good job! (*´ω｀*) Stay safe and take care of yourself, you're valid and loved! ( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Sen is a major giftgiver. So, expect him to really paint his love for you with lavish spending. Also, along with that, he's a hopeless romantic. So be sure to expect love letters and love notes to be littered around your apartment (whether or not he had permission to be where he placed them...that's up for debate). You met Senpai when you stumbled across his game, and were there to play it before you discovered a way to get him out. So, he was just as affectionate as your average visual novel character. Meaning, he's basically infinitely affectionate. He's very gentlemenly as well: kissing the top of your hand and brushing his lips against the tips of your fingers, helping you get ready each morning (he has to, considering you're literally restrained and rendered unable to do so), and other things. Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? - I always imagined Sen to be more of a yandere "stereotype" considering his source (a cheesy Japanese romance game with pretty pastel colors and overly sweet and cheesy dialogue). So, Senpai would in that case be willing to make his murders messy. Their lives don't matter to Senpai, and he'll gladly paint a pretty picture of romance with their blood. He'd do anything to emphasize the fact that you belong to him and him alone. Not to those filthy, impure worms. Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they're abducted? Would they mock them? - Senpai has a bit of an ego problem. So, if he feels it necessary, he'll gladly make you feel inferior to him. "Out of the hundreds of people in the school, you're the one that I long for so strongly. Shouldn't you be greatful for that? I'm sure there's people willing to eat themselves alive just to be in your place." Among other similar statements. Senpai isn't physically cruel unless giving out punishments for "bad behavior", so that's something to be greatful about I suppose. Even with the taunts and reprimands he speaks to you, he doesn't really mean them. Especially the ones about you being inferior in any regard. You're the definition of perfection in his eyes, to the extent he doesn't even really see himself being worthy of your love. But, nobody else is either. While he's not 100% worthy of an angel like you being by his side, he's more worthy than the people that surround the two of you. Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? - Just like Spirit, the only other things he'd do against your will is take away your rights to freedom, family, friends, along with some other similar things. He doesn't want to traumatize you, and as much as his actions contradict the idea that he's far from a monster, he's truly not. He just wants what's best for your love. Is that really something that's worthy of him being called a monster? Senpai doesn't think so, not one bit. Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? - All of it. His heart is an open book. Senpai wants to woo you, he wants you to know how adored you truly are. He wants you to know how much space you take up in his heart, and he'll do anything to show that to you. Whether it be by taking you out to a nice dinner after you've been on your best behavior for a while, or by murdering past enemies or foes, Sen will do virtually anything Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? - Completely and utterly heartbroken. How could you, (Y/N)? Here he is, your precious and beloved Senpai, just wanting to take care of you, and this is the thanks he get's? Senpai's little heart will be absolutely crushed, and he'll be sure

to let you know that, even while he's angerly punishing you. Being the main love interest is literally in his code, basically the A.I. equivalent to DNA. He's not used to not winning a person's heart the minute he expresses interest, especially the heart of someone he's putting all his effort into romantically seducing. Senpai will go ballistic after such a rejection, throwing the closest thing to a toddler's temper tantrum that you'll be able to see in an almost full grown adult. Screaming, stomping, crying tears of pure rage, Senpai will display all of it right for you to witness in absolute fear and horror. Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? - Is this a game to Senpai? Well, yeah. But only considering he's literally a game character himself. He still sees this as the silly dating mechanics from his own game. Even if this is real life, and even if this is completely against your will. He's not used to anything else, so he'll continue living his life and gaining your love the way he's been built to. Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? - You're not really in the position to cheat on him considering he's holding you in complete isolation, but if you were to cheat on him? Whoo boy. Sen would react in a similar way to Spirit would, only 100x worse. The psychotic laugh yanderes are so infamous for, the brutality, the murder, and then the confrontation of you. A cheater, a liar, a betrayer. You'll pay for what you've done to Senpai, you won't get away with thinking you could pull him around like a toy. He loves you, but now he sees no other option, you must die for what you've done to him. It won't be quick either. No, you're going to feel exactly what you made him feel the moment he found you cheating on him. It's only fair, after all. An eye for an eye. But don't worry, your body will be in good hands! Senpai will still take care of you, and he forgives you for what you've done! Now the two of you can be happy together once again! No more distractions this time! Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? - The usual...marriage, honeymoon, perhaps some kids or pets (but only if you want them, of course!). Senpai is really up to any kind of future, as long as it's with you, his beloved Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? - Senpai is EXTREMELY jealous. He's suspicious of basically everyone you come into contact with, and you're always having to deal with him wrapping his arms around you from behind and gently laying down some boundaries for whoever you're just trying to talk to. Expect a few statements like/similar to, "Hey, worm! They're mine!", considering Sen is always trying to show people just how much you belong to him Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? - Like some kind of flawless prince, but you know damn well that it's just a facade. He tries very hard to keep his yan tendencies hidden from you, but his emotional instability makes him fail miserably at that. But, that doesn't take away from the fact that he's *usually* acting very cool and charismatic Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? - The usual things you'd see from a hopeless romantic...love letters, cards, poems, hand kisses, dinner dates, and everything else lovey dovey that people do to show a certain person how much they love them. Being a dating game character, Senpai is VERY good at courting anyone he seems romantically compatible Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? - His true colors are different from the way he tries to appear, but they come out so much that the people closest to him (specifically meaning you, and only you, as all of his other friends are just a.i. in the game that he once took residence in)) consider it apart of his actual personality Naughty: How would they punish their darling? - Probably just by breaking things around the two of them as he screams at them

for whatever they did to anger him. Senpai is very childish, especially when he's rejected, but he's still able to be calmed. You just need to know exactly what to say and when to say it. Which...is shockingly hard, considering how unpredictable Senpai can be Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? - Just like Spirit, he won't really take away any. But, he'll take away all of it if he feels as if he has to Patience: How patient are they with their darling? - Senpai's patience is quite literally in the lowest of negative numbers, so tread lightly, (Y/N). The slightest and smallest things can set Senpai into hour long rages Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? - No. Not at all. Senpai would be absolutely devastated. He wouldn't be able to move on, you were his absolute everything. He can't imagine living a life without you, and he won't. Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? - Regret? No! Absolutely not! Why should Senpai feel any regret? For loving his darling angel? No. That's nothing but foolish. There is no room for regret or shame in Senpai's heart, only love for you Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? - Rejection is against Senpai's code. You weren't supposed to not want him romantically. Because of this, Senpai quite literally doesn't know how to react. So, he acts...insane? Obsessed? Call it what you want, but make sure its definition doesn't neglect his love for you. Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves? - Senpai would probably just get angrier. Why are you so upset?! Just love him, for fucks sake!! He just wants to take care of you, why won't you just let him? Stop being so difficult, let him take over, and things will be so much better for you! Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? - Not really. Senpai is pretty much a walking stereotype, with a few small changes here and there. Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? - His lovesickness, probably. Escaping Senpai would be hard to say the least, but not impossible. Just do the usual, try and act like a sufferer of Stockholm Syndrome and maybe you'll have a good chance at getting away from him Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? - Without hesitation. If he needs to do it to get his point across, Sen would do it without hesitation. It's all for you, that fact alone removes any chance of hesitation or remorse Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? - Senpai practically treats you like some overglorified love deity, the definition of a perfect partner. Perfect for him, at least. His entire heart is like an open book, but one that only you can read clearly. It's all for you, after all. Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? - He's good up until he witnesses even the slightest sign of distance or rejection, then he snaps Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? - Like hurting you, he'd do it without any hesitation. It means nothing to him, unlike you. You mean everything, and he'd do everything and anything for you. This is basically nothing to him. He loves you, after all! More than anything else in his world.

Ant Cthulhu

Tumblr ate my story! Goodbye to. just. so many thousands of notes. This was one of my first stories that people on tumblr liked. So I’m making it a new post, so that people can find it. Plus, of all the thousands who read the first one or two installments, not nearly as many discovered that I had written a third and final installment that ends the story, so here is a chance at that. 

The story was inspired by a pair of observations on Tumblr, where users probablybadrpgideas and 20thcenturyvole said, respectively 

“if Cthulhu can be summoned by humans who are so far beneath it, why can’t humans be summoned by ants? The answer is they should be.” and “Well if a bunch of ants formed a circle in my house I’d certainly notice, try to figure out where they’d all come from, and possibly wreak destruction there.“

It gets just a little dark, but any story named for Cthulhu surely must have some death and destruction, right?

ANT CTHULHU

That’s why knowing and correctly pronouncing the true name is so important to the ritual. Imagine how impossible it would be to not go take a look if the circle of ants started chanting your name. And they’re like, you can’t leave because we drew a line made of tiny crystals - now you have to do us a favor. And you’re like, let’s just see where this goes “yup, you got me… what’s the favor?” and usually the favor is like, “kill this one ant for us” or “give me a pile of sugar” and you’re like… okay? and you do, because why not, it isn’t hard for you and boy is this going to be a fucking story to tell, these fucking ants chanting your name and wanting a spoonful of sugar or whatever. And SOMEtimes you get asked for things you can’t really do, one of them, she’s like, “I love this ant but she won’t pay any attention to me, make me important to her” and you’re like… um? how? So you just kill every ant in the colony except the two of them, ta-da! problem solved! and the first ant is like *horrified whisper* “what have I done” …. _____________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile another colony of ants invades your house, and evidently that last ant has gotten some of them to join her in a circle and taught them the ritual because you’re coming out of the bathroom one day and you hear the ants singing your name. Sure enough it’s that ant, but she’s dark and fucked up now, and she’s like, “kill the queen. I will rule this colony” and you’re like, sure, I guess I kinda owe her, and you do it. And she manages to become queen, and they worship you. Which is cool, you’re not, you know, very important in the human world, but to these ants you’re practically all-powerful.

Your beloved Naya doesn’t understand your fascination with the ants at all, but you easily train her to leave them alone. She’s such a good dog. The ants are horrified that you command such a beast.

You begin to realize can’t be just, doing everything a bunch of ants tell you to all the time. When would you watch Netflx? So you tend to only show up for super important ants; you teach them some extra words and when hear them you go see what’s up. Usually. Also though, you’ll show up to just your name, if you’re bored and you hear it. And, sometimes some of the ants are like, tell us more human names, and you’re kind of jealous of the idea of some other human diluting your private godhood, so you refuse. Your roommate Greg is like, yo, that’s fucking awesome, I want ant worshipers! But whenever he approaches any, they run away, because it turns out that the illusion of control from the named summoning is what makes them feel safe around you. That’s great, because Greg is a dick who never does the dishes, and one day you decide to teach Greg a lesson. So you show up at the colony, and you’re like, “yo, witch queen, did you think there would be no price for all these things? Your colony must do something for me, go to the Room of the Housemate, I will meet you there.” And you go sit on the couch and play Overwatch for a while. You’re like, right there, you can clearly see the ants all marching along the wall to Greg’s room, but to them you’re not even there, you’re so far away they can’t see you. It takes them, like, an ant week to make the journey. They have to figure out ways to get over and around things. Some of them drown, or get stepped on by the dog, or whatever. You win a game, you lose a game, you look over, and they’re trying to get through some cobwebs… looks like they’re mostly going to live, you keep playing, you look over, okay they’re all in there, and you stand up and walk over and by the time they’ve chanted your name once, you’re there. “right, hold on” and you look around and you see a twelve-pack of Greg’s precious fucking soda, that he keeps in his room and refuses to ever share, even though it’s a communal food household and you share your hot chocolate with him all the time. So you gather the ants unto you, and you poke a little hole in each of the sodas and you leave the room to the sound of the ants rejoicing. Greg will suspect of course, but he’ll never be able to prove the ants didn’t chew holes in the plastic and steal his stupid drinks.

He actually tries to blame it on Naya. What a prick. You insist with wide eyes that the ants must have found it somehow — maybe he shouldn’t leave soda pop laying around his room. But later, while you’re at work, Greg destroys most of the colony in a rage, and you come home to find the witch queen gasping her last. “The Dew of the Mountain, which you had us steal, was cursed - and so I lay my curse on you” she manages, and then she dies. Well first of all, you don’t really believe in curses, but last month you didn’t believe ants could know your name, so that’s unsettling. And second of all, you feel kind of bad. You know, not SUPER bad, cause she’s like, an ant. But still. And most importantly, third of all, Greg must pay. Like some kind of movie villain, you pet your loving Naya and say out loud “Oh yes, and pay he will.”

But Greg has done more than kill a bunch of the colony. As you wait for eggs and pupae to replenish the ant population, you discover he has found some ants that didn’t go on the Mountain Dew raid, and he’s spared them, told them his name.

He’s made himself a good sized cult in YOUR fucking ant queendom. Greg has started locking his door. So now you NEED the ants. Once again you direct the ants loyal to you to journey to Greg’s room. You meet them at the door. A locked door means nothing to the ants, they don’t even know there is a door, and can barely perceive the difference between it being open and shut - either passing the threshold on the floor regardless, or being on its surface no matter the position. But you need them to get inside. You’re going to put itching powder in his underwear drawer and leave a raw fish under his bed. So you instruct the leading party of ants how to go into the Cave of Keyhole, and position the Magic Megaliths inside just right to enable the opening of the Great Door and allow you to pass into the Realm of Housemate. Crouched by the door, you can hear when your ants are met by a party of Greg Cultists, who insist that if the Great Door is opened, the colony will be doomed. There is fighting. Your ants prevail, the lock tumblers are moved into place, and you swing the door open… To find Greg! In his room all along! It’s a trap! His cultists attack you! I mean, they can’t do much real harm, but it kind of hurts and it’s super annoying. You order your ants to attack him, and they do, but he storms over and pours bleach down the colony entrance.

It’s the end of their world. Now you and Greg are at war, and you both understand the unspoken rules to your fight. You can’t do things directly to each other, why, that would be assault. But anything you can get your ants to do is fine, because “she told the ants to do it to me” isn’t going to get very far with any authority figures that get involved. Later, nursing your anger, you confer with your few remaining ants and stare moodily at your new prize, the ant farm that came in the mail. It will take time to integrate them- your ants have to get access to the new ants’ scent marker chemicals and go undercover. Meanwhile, you’ve got a laptop schematic to go over with your high priestess. It’s finals week, and if you time it right, he’ll lose everything. … You look down into the summoning ritual. The current high priestess, Zé, is an ant of great influence and personality - you quite like her, inso far as a human can be friends with an ant that worships them. You thought the new queen would become the next high priestess, but according to Zé the queens don’t like to come out of the colony after they shed their wings. Plus they are very busy laying eggs and supervising the care of their ant larvae. Zé says it’s a better deal for you, this way your high priestess can have the time and energy to really serve your interests, and wield an authority among the colony that is purely yours - no conflict of interest, and no baby making duties. It’s really just what’s best for both you and the colony queen to have her as high priestess, she informs you, making you laugh at her flattery-wrapped ambition. There’s no laughing this evening though. It’s serious business on the docket tonight. “O wise and ancient entity of power, you grace us with your presence!” and for formality’s sake, she intones the additional ritual greeting from their holy books “You Look Fantastic, Have You Done Something New With Your Hair?” Ants don’t really understand hair. You respond as you have become accustomed “Thank You, Yes.” It’s just easier. They mean well. Mystic greeting complete, Zé and the rest of the dark clergy move straight to business. Several 10s of them line up in formation, creating a diagram of the apartment complex. You had to coach them into how to make it, as far as they are concerned it’s a complex sigil that conveys knowledge to you - for creatures that traverse the building in long journeys along the pipes in the walls and in the spaces between the lower ceiling and upper floor, it looks nothing like the apartment complex as they know it. Zé claims to understand it, but secretly you suspect she’s just mostly cementing her authority among the clergy. She has, usefully, memorized which parts of the sigil correspond with what parts of the building, and that’s good enough for your purposes. “O mighty being, we have done as instructed. Our scouts had to search wide for them, but we have left the corpses of many termites in all the locations you specified, every night this week. “Very good,” you assure them, “and the Greggorites?” “Our spies among them have learned of their next attack. We should be able to influence their timing somewhat.” “Good. And..” your eyes narrow, “the other thing?” “Ah, yes.” Zé’s antennae wave and dip in that way you know means she is uncomfortable. “to the best of our ability to find out, the… Antifreeze initiative was entirely conceived of by the Demon Lord Greg.” “Just Greg,” you tell Zé with bitter hatred as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. “Greg is not a lord, just a fucking prick who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I swear by all of creation he will.” “Is there…” Zé trailed off and tried again. “O Deity of my heart, far be it from me to question Your Exaltedness, but help your poor servant to understand… your plans have become, ah, they seem perhaps, I am sure I am wrong, but they seem, overly audacious? Your recent change in demeanor has made some of us nervous - not me! - but some of the less devout among my sistren, have become… concerned.” Your fists clench. “I don’t expect you to get it. I’m pretty certain none of you could possibly understand.” Your voice breaks. You clench your teeth. You won’t, you won’t cry in front of your ant worshipers. You lean down and say in the strangled half whisper that is the only way you can force the words past the lump in your throat, “He killed my dog, Zé…” The ants flee the sound of your terrible wailing. The great Finals Erasure had worked to more devastating effect than you had anticipated, and things had… escalated. Then Greg proved himself to be less human than the ants , who themselves had turned out to be such surprising little beings. So. The orders for the heinous deed did in fact come from him. Now, there are things that have to be done. You call the ants back out of hiding and get to work. In the end, it was easier than you thought it would be. You talk to all the neighbors, without Greg. You hide the relevant pieces of mail. You have the scuba gear and the stuff from the sex shop shipped to a friend’s house. You ensure your spies among the Greggorites have escape plans, though Zé assures you they are ready to sacrifice themselves to the cause. “I’m not that kind of Deity,” you tell her. The night before, your ants slip a double dose of tylenol p.m. into Greg’s milkshake. You almost laugh; all your efforts to make sure there is only soup to make for dinner, and he comes home with Burger King. He sleeps so soundly that he never comes close to waking the whole time you are attaching the padded bondage equipment to his limbs and hiding with him in the closet. The walk through by the company inspectors that morning is a tense moment, but as you suspect, they don’t open the closets. After they leave to do their work outside, you finish your work inside, tying Greg to his bed. By the time he starts to wake up, you are sitting in a chair in the doorway to his bedroom, with your mask on. The air is beginning to thicken and discolor. Greg coughs around his ball gag and opens his eyes. You feel curiously calm and empty. “Hi, Greg.” Your voice is muffled, “You like my dive mask?” Greg makes an angry questioning noise, spread eagled to the full extension of his limbs. “Oh, yeah, that must be uncomfortable. Can’t give you enough slack to jerk against the ropes, though, or you might leave tell-tale bruises through the padding.” More angry noises, coughing. “Hhhmm? Oh, did I forget to tell you? It’s termite day, Greg, they’ve tented the house. That’s Sulfuryl Fluoride you’re breathing. You’ll cough for a bit, you’ll throw up, and your heart will stop.” He’s thrashing around as much as the ropes will allow, which isn’t a lot. He’s pretty energetic about it, though; maybe he can’t hear you over his efforts. “You shouldn’t have meddled around with godhood, it didn’t suit you. Power compromised your judgement. You definitely shouldn’t have fucking killed my dog, Greg” You’re suddenly filled with rage. You need to know he hears you. You stride over to the bed and grab him by the throat. Not too hard, you try to remember through your anger, no bruises. The grip is enough to make Greg stop thrashing and look at you with wide wide eyes. “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING KILLED NAYA YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! WHY? WHY? HOW COULD YOU!? SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!” Just as suddenly, your anger is gone. You feel tired. You look down at him and shake your head.”Time to die, Greg.” You cross the room and sit back down in your chair in the doorway. Watching him die isn’t easy, but it’s not as hard as watching Naya suffer through acute kidney failure. Afterwards, you take off all the bondage gear, throw it in a duffel bag. You leave through the back, rolling out from under the fumigation tent against the back fence, and packing the scuba gear into the duffel before you climb into the neighbors yard. A month later, you’re moving from town to town. The colony has become so large you’re going to need a bigger truck full of clay for them to live in. Maybe an old Uhaul. The ants bring you a newspaper. They bring you everything now, food, money, information. Word of how you value the life of each individual ant has spread through the colony, and reports brought back from the apartment by scouts confirming your status as a godslayer has …elevated… their worship of you. You open the newspaper to find Greg’s death has made the papers. No suspicion of foul play despite the exterminator company lawyers insisting on an autopsy. Tylenol p.m. in his system accounted for his presence in the building, it was decided, and the failure of the inspectors to notice Greg in bed during their walk through was settled out of court, paid off by their insurance. The ants bring you a conga line of grapes, peeling them for you while you stare off into space. A small line of ants brings the peels back to the colony larder. You’re going to have to teach them how to disable cameras - the leaked security footage of hundred dollar bills slipping themselves out under the bank doors has caused a bit of a stir on some parts of the internet… you eat another grape, and count your money. As usual you put half of it in an envelope, uncapping a sharpie to write “From Naya” on it. The ants will slip it under the door of the local animal shelter for you tonight. END

_____________________________________________________________________

so, looking back, I feel I should tell you that when I wrote the final chapter of this I had just become homeless and had to leave my dog in a better home than I could provide. It’s cool, we still see each other a lot these days, I was just real sad about it and it effected what I wrote. Anyway, that’s the Ant Cthulhu story

Hello Skyjacks fandom, may I please introduce you to my favourite thing to do: turn RPG scenes I love into TV scripts. I’ve never done a scene that doesn’t have fluid dialogue before, so this is more of an edit, but aah! Flashbacks, my beloved! From ep 15.

Transcript under the cut:

INT. TAVERN. DAY.

TRAVIS' footsteps echo as he picks his way around upturned tables and towards the bar. JONNIT and GABLE remain by the door.

TRAVIS pauses and lifts up an overturned tankard. He tilts it, and a few dregs drip to the floor.

TRAVIS: Well, we might be able to at least scavenge something.

TRAVIS: Well, we might be able to at least scavenge something.

GABLE: I think our best bet is probably to find the warehouse. Get as many supplies as we can to get us to the next port, then try and trade there.

TRAVIS has reached the bar at this point. He hops over it, then begins inspecting bottles.

TRAVIS: Guess I'll start here.

GABLE makes a move towards the bar. JONNIT stumbles after them.

GABLE: Trav- Hey! This isn't the warehouse!

TRAVIS picks up a tall glass bottle, flips it in the air and catches it again, then begins to pour it into a whiskey-sized glass he found behind the bar. He is beginning to make a Maelstrom.

TRAVIS: Can I get you anything?

GABLE stops just before the bar, JONNIT beside them. They pause for a second, look to JONNIT, then sit.

GABLE: You know what? What the hell. Uh, what do they have back there?

JONNIT tentatively sits beside GABLE.

TRAVIS: Well, uh, do you have a signature drink?

GABLE: No.

A smirk, softer than usual, spreads across TRAVIS' face.

TRAVIS: Would you like one?

GABLE: Uuh...

His own drink poured, TRAVIS begins to mix something for GABLE.

TRAVIS: Jonnit, would you like something?

JONNIT: Uuh, I'll take a pickle?

With his back to his companions, TRAVIS gives another small smile. He turns.

TRAVIS (with a jovial eye-roll): Well, there's the jar.

TRAVIS slides a large jar of pickles down the bar at JONNIT. JONNIT opens it, grabs a pickle, then fidgets in his seat for a moment.

JONNIT: Hey Gable? This is kinda maybe something for a little later, but-

TRAVIS pours something into GABLE's glass that makes the clear liquid begin to smoke. He grabs a shot glass and begins pouring something into it.

JONNIT; I was wondering, when we get back in the air, this thing-

JONNIT gestures to his forehead.

JONNIT: Has been on my mind a lot, and, uh, I just wanted to know: would you maybe be interested in  helping me figure out what it is, how to use it? I feel like it's, it's special. And I wanna be able to call on it when I want, but I don't know how. And it's sometimes a little scary.

TRAVIS sets the shot glass in front of GABLE - it's filled with blood red liquid - then grabs another bottle.

GABLE: Jonnit, from what I've seen you're capable of some incredible things. Things that I know are frightening to you, and I know you have a desire to control. But those things are quite unique to you. As far as I know, perhaps it's divine magic, but it's nothing I've ever encountered. When it comes to magic  the most powerful thing I've found you can do is to allow yourself to do it.

JONNIT: To just... let it happen?

TRAVIS places the smoking glass before GABLE and picks up his own drink. JONNIT and GABLE pause their conversation to look at him.

TRAVIS: To letting ourselves be ourselves from time to time. Even if it is a little painful.

GABLE: Take flight.

JONNIT: Take flight.

TRAVIS: Take flight.

JONNIT crunches down on his pickle. GABLE takes a sip. TRAVIS watches them over the rim of his own glass.

GABLE: This is delicious! It's not often we get to.. have fun?

As TRAVIS downs his drink, GABLE turns back to JONNIT.

GABLE: Just, don't be afraid of it, is what I mean.

JONNIT: I feel like that just ends up with me waiting around for it to happen, and it happens when it wants to, and I feel like I want it to happen when I want it to.

GABLE: You feel that it controls you?

TRAVIS sets his now empty glass down on the bar. He pokes about a little, finds some peanuts and chucks a couple into his mouth.

JONNIT: Yeah. I wanna be in control.

GABLE: That's wise. I'm not sure how much I can help-

JONNIT's shoulders droop, and he tries really hard not to let the disappointment show on his face. To hide it, he takes a bite of the pickle.

GABLE: But I can show you how I do my thing.

JONNIT: Yeah, uh, that'd be great. Thanks, Gable.

TRAVIS wanders out from behind the bar, winding around tables, clearly looking to see if anyone has dropped anything. He reaches a corner, tucked away behind a support beam, where there is a small, square table for playing Illimat. 

TRAVIS runs his fingers over the grain and a slightly glazed look overtakes his face. He begins to take a seat and-

CUT TO:

INT. BAR. DUSK.

The exact same place, only now it's bustling. A shanty plays in the background. The scene is packed with characters. Out the window we can see, across a fog-less mountain top, the sun is preparing to set. 

TRAVIS is sitting in the exact same seat we just saw him drop into, but he looks different. Same coat, but it's newer, better maintained. There's a softness to his face and a lightness to his eyes that we haven't seen before. He looks younger, though of course he isn't.

Across from TRAVIS is sat a burly man with curls pulled back into a ponytail. The two have almost finished playing a game of Illimat.

TRAVIS makes a move, and the crowd that have gathered around them cheer - it looks like he's going to win. The sly look TRAVIS gives his competitor confirms this.

With a flick of his wrist, the COMPETITOR plays his card, and the crowd goes wild. He crosses his arms and leans back, smirking at TRAVIS.

For a moment TRAVIS looks confused, then he begins to reach across the table.

TRAVIS: You cheated!

COMPETITOR (rumbling: )Didn't take you for a sore loser.

TRAVIS: That was the only card you could have possibly played to win. The odds are impossible.

COMPETITOR: Guess fate was just on my side.

That gets TRAVIS' hackles up.

TRAVIS: No, that card was already in the harvest pile, I saw it!

As TRAVIS reaches for the deck a knife is thrown down, pinning the cards to the table.

COMPETITOR: Oi!

The COMPETITOR rises, looming over TRAVIS, who also quickly jumps to his feet.

COMPETITOR: That's not the way we play here.

The energy in the crowd has changed now. People are tense, anticipating a fight.

TRAVIS tries to respond to the man, but instead he bares his teeth, a short, sharp growl emitting from his throat. We see panic flare in TRAVIS' eyes as he notices the sun through the window behind the man's head: it's setting.

The COMPETITOR took this to be a sign of aggression and lunges for TRAVIS. TRAVIS winces, but before any damage can be done two other patrons have grabbed hold of the man. They begin to drag him from the table, mumbling that he's drunk and should head home, not worth it over a visitor etc.

The COMPETITOR reaches to grab something from the table - the money, TRAVIS assumes, and also starts reaching for it. However all he does is scoop a small snuff box up and shove it into his pocket.

People begin to move in towards TRAVIS, asking if he's alright, where he's staying, congratulating him on his skill. TRAVIS ignores them, covering his mouth with one hand as we hear the loud and painful snapping and twisting of his jaw.

With his other hand he scoops up what should have been the winnings and slinks out the door.

CUT TO:

EXT. TAVERN. DUSK.

Now lifting his cravat to cover his mouth, TRAVIS exits the tavern and starts to turn, aiming to slink down an alleyway. Before he does, however, his eyes are drawn to a commotion just past the warehouse. The COMPETITOR is still being guided away, into a bunk house down the street.

CUT TO:

EXT. TAVERN. DAY.

TRAVIS is stood outside the door in the exact same position, looking to the bunk house. Now, however, the tavern is dark and cold.He starts to walk towards the bunk house.

GABLE and JONNIT emerge, clearly confused.

GABLE (hissed): Travis?

JONNIT (whispered): Travis?

We pan out in order to see TRAVIS walking towards the bunk house and GABLE and JONNIT at the door simultaneously.

GABLE (slightly louder): Travis?

JONNIT (normal volume): Travis?

GABLE (yelling slightly); Travis!

JONNIT + GABLE: Travis!

TRAVIS continues to ignore them, having almost reached the door to the bunk house now.

GABLE shrugs to JONNIT.

GABLE: Well, I guess we don't need to go to the same place. Do you wanna go to the warehouse?

JONNIT nods and the pair set off.

CUT TO:

INT. BUNK HOUSE. DAY.

TRAVIS is just pushing open the door to the reception area. There are chairs and tables littered about - untidy, but not in disarray as the tavern had been. It's deadly silent.

Faint light filters in through the windows, but with the thick fog it does little to illuminate the room. TRAVIS reaches up and lights an oil lamp that hangs beside his head. It looks as if he lights it with his finger, but as he reaches to take the oil lamp down we see him palm a lighter.

Taking the lamp with him, TRAVIS makes his way down a corridor at the back of the room, lined on either side with doors. He pushes the first one he comes to, and it opens onto a set of bunks. The beds are unmade and there are a few belongings scattered about, but nothing that suggests a struggle.

We see TRAVIS continue down the corridor, pushing a few more doors, until suddenly he stops.

On the floor of this room, slightly tucked beneath a bunk, is a brass Illimat box, the one the COMPETITOR had laid on the table. The lid has been lost or removed.

TRAVIS crouches and reaches inside, lifting out a small snuff box. He closes his eyes, letting out a soft, slow breath. As he stands he pockets the snuff box, turning on his heel, only to stop in his tracks again. 

We pan round until we can see the back of the door. Etched into it, in thin, jagged letters, is the words 'IT IS TIME!'

TRAVIS pushes the door open and hurries out of the room, back towards the entrance.

Charlie Chan. Who is fascinating, because he was created explictly to be an anti-Yellow Peril character. Unlike most Chinese characters of the time, he's both intelligent, physically capable, and unambiguously heroic. In the novels, he's simultaneously proud of being Chinese AND proud of being an American citizen. He gives orders and instructions to white people, and the narrative treats this as perfectly normal and acceptable. There's a bit in the first book, when an attempt to trap the..(1/2)

(cont'd)There's a bit in the first book where an attempt to trap the protagonist fails, because a message supposedly from Charlie clearly isn't because Charlie's English isn't broken, it's like poetry. Etc. The movies made him more stereotypical, & played by white actors in yellowface, but still, he's a heroic Chinese man, who is as capable and patriotic as any white man. Nowadays, he's thought of as racist caricature. Which he is, but still, it makes one think.

I'm not nearly as acquainted with Charlie Chan as you are (and I definitely suspected he was less racist in the original books because that's nearly always the norm when it comes to pulp characters) but yeah, that "Which he is" is forever going to be the most unfortunate and saddest part of it all when it comes to Charlie Chan. For all the virtues that can be bestowed on Charlie Chan, for everything great that the character had going for him and inspired, the fact that the least offensive image of the character I could find to put here for illustration's sake is from the Hanna-Barbera cartoon kinda exemplifies the big elephant in the room when it comes to Charlie.

Charlie Chan is a great example of two things: One is the way progress is never a fixed quantity and often what was progressive and forward-thinking in it's time can become something outdated and backwards and downright offensive given enough time, and the 2nd is my constant stressing that this is all the more incentive to reclaim the pulps and either highlight or fix aspects of them, instead of dismissing every aspect of them based on the preconception that everything about it's history is unforgivably bigoted and must be handled with the nuance of a sledgehammer.

I stress time and time again the need to highlight and understand the prejudices that went into pulps, because either ignoring them or wielding them as a weapon to attack them does no favors to anyone. The pulps weren't exceptionally bigoted - look at literally any medium in it's time period and you'll find bigotry and prejudice and hatred - and they were exceptional in the number of POC heroes and heroines. Pulps were a medium of experimentation and cheap entertainment that gave way to much, much more varied kinds of protagonists than were permitted in films, serials, novels, comics and radio serials of the day. Imagine if no one was allowed to bring up and discuss superheroes without mentioning the Superman Slap-a-Jap posters or the Captain Marvel story so horrifingly racist it was recounted by an American ambassador after it deeply offended a friend's son and a major influence on the 1950s anti-comic trials. "Pulp fiction had deeply, unforgivingly racist depictions that deserve intense scrutiny and cannot be ignored" and "Pulp fiction was significantly ahead of every other medium at the time in regards to authors and editors striving to publish stories about heroic POCs, this cannot be dismissed and is something that needs to be perpetuated" are not exclusive facts. "A product of it's time" is not an excuse and never was, but it's a fact nevertheless.

Every time someone speaks favorably of Charlie Chan in any capacity, they have to start with a long preface of everything positive that the character had going for him. Yes, he's a deliberate subversion of the Yellow Peril, he's a heroic protagonist, he's plump and good-natured and humorous but far from a joke, he's friendly and pleasant and well-educated and wise, he's a good dad and family man and a terrifically sharp detective who's so good at his job he gets called to solve crimes all over the world, and none of these traits are apparent to people who have to google the character and repeteadly see a white man in awful make-up into every single image of the character, who watch the movies and cringe at the broken English. It's hardly relevant in the face of all the Asian-American critics who acknowledge the character's virtues but rightfully point out that this fortune-cookie spouting caricature, acting subservient to whites and whose virtues are based around his proximity to a white American ideal, doesn't represent them and they shouldn't pretend it does.

Which isn't to say that to like Charlie Chan is "wrong", a lot of East Asians love Charlie and the character's obviously got fans in Asian Americans. It's a complicated subject and I obviously cannot begin to vouch in a subject so heavily based around perceptions I cannot experience. And I deeply detest the idea of speaking for others on their particular experiences on this kind of matter, which is something Americans do a lot everytime they talk about representation in media.

So instead, I'm going to tackle this on a roundabout manner by going on an unrelated tangent to bring up an example of representation that isn't quite representative of what it's supposed to be, has a lot of issues that have been dissected by critics among the people it was supposed to represent, and none of that stopped the character from being popular and beloved and from being claimed anyway. And it's a Brazilian fighting game character, which means it's completely within my ballpark.

Yeah, obviously Blanka doesn't look like anyone who lives in Brazil (whatever resemblance he bears to redheaded jungle protectors of Brazilian folklore is purely accidental). Obviously neither Jimmy nor Blanka are Brazilian names or even exist in the Portuguese lexicon. Obviously there are issues in Street Fighter's approach to representation across the board, sure, and I'd actually say Laura is much worse than Blanka in that regard (again, my opinion, obviously not universal), but the fact remains that Blanka is and has always been pretty controversial. Obviously there's Brazilians who took offense to Blanka and they weren't wrong to do so, and I obviously do not speak for everyone here, that goes without saying.

Obviously the idea that Brazil's major representative in a global cast of characters, the first big name Brazilian character in videogames, is going to be a freakish jungle monster who roars and bites faces has problems, as is the fact that all the others get to be regular people representing fighting styles from their countries while Blanka doesn't. None of the Brazilian SF characters represent Capoeira, which is kinda shitty to be honest. And there's a whole stereotype of Brazil as a backwards land of beasts and savages that Blanka's creation played into. There's no shortage of ground to criticize Blanka's representation and Ono actually apologized in an interview once, but then he learned one teensy little thing:

Street Fighter is very popular on Brazil. Would you like to leave a message to the fans from there?

"Ono: Yes, I'm aware. At the time of Street Fighter II a lot of the arcade machines produced went there, so I knew we had lots of fans there. A message to Brazilians, well, I'd like to apologize. I know Blanka's a weird character and I don't want any Brazilian to feel uncomfortable with that.

When Blanka was conceived, we knew there were forests in Brazil, and so we thought he could look like that. I was actually kinda nervous knowing I'd meet Brazilian journalists. Still, this is the first Street Fighter in ten years, so we'd like all fans to play, including Brazilians, which are many.

Thanks. Well, but you should know that Brazilians love Blanka

"Ono: Ah, good! I was scared of getting beat up if I ever went to São Paulo! (laughs)"

(That's from a 2012 tv special called The Greatest Brazilian of All Time where over a million viewers voted to elect whoever they wanted, and Blanka was going to win. He was polling ahead of Aryton Senna and PELÉ, fucking Pelé, yes this happened. He wasn't even disqualified for being a cartoon character, it was an open poll, he was disqualified due to canon stating he had been born in Thailand, which I think may have been retconned since then. Again, A MILLION BRAZILLIANS voted for this contest, and Blanka was going to win.)

Blanka is great and sweet and lovable, he made the best out of the incredible shitty hands fate dealt him and became a cool and strong green man who shoots lightning and flies, a self-taught warrior who rides whales and planes to fighting tournaments, and he loves his mom and friends and kicks ass and after he's done he dances in joy and gives the kids of his village piggyback rides, and Brazil loves him. He doesn't represent any existing person or fighting style, he's rooted in a negative stereotype and incorrect assumptions, he's not even really Brazilian, and he's our boy and nobody can take him away from us.

No criticism of Blanka, no matter how in-depth or even right it is, is ever going to affect that, because regardless of what was wrong or misguided and offensive about him, we claimed him and loved him so throughly that Capcom kept playing up Brazilian representation in every subsequent game post Alpha, and because of Blanka's impact and reception in such a big game, Brazilian characters have become a staple of fighting games, and that's how we got much more diverse representatives in those games. Fighting games have more Brazilian representation than LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE on media not produced here. It started as BAD representation, with way less thought put into it than Charlie Chan, and it still mattered to a lot of Brazilians who reclaimed it and made it better than it was ever intended to be, and as a response to it, it gradually became better. 

Progress is not a fixed quantity, it's an uphill battle, and it's not unwinnable. Everything's gotta start somewhere.

The Good Asian is a ongoing comic that I think does the best job I've seen yet of handling an Asian American detective protagonist, which is not really a high bar in the first place, and more to the point, The Good Asian illustrates the 2nd part: the reclaiming. The Good Asian deals a lot with the realities that a 1930s Asian-American detective would run into, the strained circumstances and relationships between said character and the world around him, because it's born from an author who took a look at Charlie Chan and Mr Moto and the like and recognized the potential in those stories that could not be fulfilled in it's time period by the people writing said stories. 

The Good Asian pays little reverence to Charlie Chan, but it acknowledges that it cannot exist without Charlie Chan, and it reclaims the Charlie Chan premise at the hands of someone more adequately equipped to tell a gripping story that goes places none of Charlie's contemporaries would ever go. Regardless of how good or bad of representation Charlie Chan was, Charlie Chan mattered and was beloved and inspired a better example for others to improve on or rebel against.

I desperately wish that I could google Charlie Chan without having to look at a guy in yellowface, and the ONLY way that's going to happen is if the character ever gets meaningfully brought back and reclaimed for good by people who can meaningfully tackle the character and present him as he should have always been presented.

And then, I imagine it would be a lot easier to show people on how swell Charlie really is. A true, positive role model and hero, who no longer has to look like a gross cartoon to be able to exist at all. Who can finally be what he was always meant to be, and always was deep down.

random thoughts on jon connington’s chapters

This is part 2, part 1 can be found here.

The Griffin Reborn

Aegon and Danerys

The first part of this chapter details Jon Connington taking over his former castle Griffin's Roost as well as remembering how he lost the Battle of Stony Sept.

Some Daniella stans have cried about how the show made her bad (ahah she's already bad), by giving her Jon Connington's supposed endgame. I believe they're partially right. Jon Connington's thoughts on Stoney Sept are foreshadowing of the burning of King's Landing, but of Danerys doing it.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He had lost it all at Stoney Sept, in his arrogance. (...)

And so he swept down on Stoney Sept, closed off the town, and began a search. (...) The townsfolk were hiding him. They moved him from one secret bolt-hole to the next, always one step ahead of the king's men. The whole town was a nest of traitors. At the end they had the usurper hidden in a brothel. What sort of king was that, who would hide behind the skirts of women? Yet whilst the search dragged on, Eddard Stark and Hoster Tully came down upon the town with a rebel army. Bells and battle followed, and Robert emerged from his brothel with a blade in hand, and almost slew Jon on the steps of the old sept that gave the town its name.

For years afterward, Jon Connington told himself that he was not to blame, that he had done all that any man could do. His soldiers searched every hole and hovel, he offered pardons and rewards, he took hostages and hung them in crow cages and swore that they would have neither food nor drink until Robert was delivered to him. All to no avail.

Bobby B was very much loved by the people in general, in fact that's the whole thing with Stoney Sept. The townsfolk hid him because they loved him, despite the violence inflicted towards them. As Connington says, they endured everything for Bobby B's sake, they rebuffed bribes and they endured executions, even a hunger strike. Not one turned traitor, not one turned over Bobby B. Such we have a town hiding a "ruler" they love.

As a side-note, in the books the bells tolled to warn the citizens of the battle and to persuade them to stay inside their houses. It was a statement, marking a rebellion against the invading force and not a surrender signal. I believe it's in the show that is said, bells ring for dead kings, weddings (bride of fire, meaning biurning shit), and the beginning of war (this was waaay before they came up with the accident that is season 8).

Daenerys IV ~ ACOK

(second stanza) A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. (...) A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. (...) A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly.

Epilogue ~ AFFC

Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. (...) He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

Aegon (who's associated with boats, the Shy Maid) will be loved, he's the cloth dragon the people are cheering for (it doesn't mean he's fake, LMAO) and Danerys will burn King's Landing in retalliation. Like Cersei Lannister ended up "loved" in the penultime episode of the show, when she took the townsfolk inside the Red Keep. Forced, I know, but that's what they depicted and what Daniella thought just before she burned them all, the townsfolk preferred Cersei to Daniella. And we highly suspect show!Cersei took book!Aegon's role, such it will be him that will be sitting in King's Landing in the books.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Tywin Lannister himself could have done no more," he had insisted one night to Blackheart, during his first year of exile.

"There is where you're wrong," Myles Toyne had replied. "Lord Tywin would not have bothered with a search. He would have burned that town and every living creature in it. Men and boys, babes at the breast, noble knights and holy septons, pigs and whores, rats and rebels, he would have burned them all.

he would have burned them all.

This is Bran's prophetic visions in sequence, linking Drogon, flying over King's Landing, then an "equivalence" between Aerys saying "burn them all" and Danerys with Drogon.

It's also worth mentionioning for the milionth of time, that "Daenerys" is is an anagram for "Aerys End", you know the guy who wanted to burn King's Landing to the ground instead of letting beloved by the people Bobby B take the throne.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

He was not wrong, Jon Connington reflected, leaning on the battlements of his forebears. I wanted the glory of slaying Robert in single combat, and I did not want the name of butcher.

Daenerys IV ~ ADWD

Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. "Do you take me for the Butcher King?"

"Better the butcher than the meat. All kings are butchers. Are queens so different?" (...)

What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. "He would make a monster of me," she whispered, "a butcher queen." But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.

Danerys accepting her dragon side, which haappens at the end of ADWD and this is why she manages to ride Drogon, is directly connected to being a monster, a butcher. This is word play that translated to the show as well.

GoT 7x02 - Stormborn

DAENERYS picks up a dragon figurine from the table.

DAENERYS: If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already.~

TYRION: Conquering Westeros would be easy for you. But you're not here to be queen of the ashes.

DAENERYS: No.

DAENERYS puts down the dragon figurine.

TYRION: We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the great houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won.

Danerys clothes when she burned King's Landing have red staining the skirt, like a butcher's apron stained with blood as he works.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

"Wait, I say. Gather our power, win some small lords to our cause, let Lysono Maar dispatch his spies to learn what we can learn of our foes."

Connington gave the plump captain-general a cool look. This man is no Blackheart, no Bittersteel, no Maelys. He would wait until all seven hells were frozen if he could rather than risk another bout of blisters. "We did not cross half the world to wait. Our best chance is to strike hard and fast, before King's Landing knows who we are.

In the show, Danerys is impatient to attack King's Landing, she doesn't want to wait, and has to be convinced REPEATEDLY to not "strike hard and fast". And in one of them, Daenerys and butchering linked together makes yet another appearance (the script above).

Aegon the Conqueror

Maegor the Cruel

Danerys the Butcher. Bitch deserves it.

Aegon and Jon Connington

In the second part of the chapter, Aegon arrives at the Griffin's Roost and Connington and Aegon discuss the attack on Storm's End.

Sansa VII ~ ASOS

The Broken Tower was easier still. They made a tall tower together, kneeling side by side to roll it smooth, and when they'd raised it Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. "That was unchivalrously done, my lady."

"As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home."

She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

A solid man, and true, Connington thought as he watched Duck dismount, but not worthy of the Kingsguard. He had tried his best to dissuade the prince from giving Duckfield that cloak, pointing out that the honor might best be held in reserve for warriors of greater renown whose fealty would add luster to their cause, and the younger sons of great lords whose support they would need in the coming struggle, but the boy would not be moved. "Duck will die for me if need be," he had said, "and that's all I require in my Kingsguard. The Kingslayer was a warrior of great renown, and the son of a great lord as well."

At least I convinced him to leave the other six slots open, else Duck might have six ducklings trailing after him, each more blindingly adequate than the last. "Escort His Grace to my solar," he commanded. "At once."

Prince Aegon Targaryen was not near as biddable as the boy Young Griff had been, however. The better part of an hour had passed before he finally turned up in the solar, with Duck at his side. "Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

"Your father's lands are beautiful," he said. His silvery hair was blowing in the wind, and his eyes were a deep purple, darker than this boy's. "As do I, Your Grace. Please, be seated. Ser Rolly, we'll have no further need of you for now."

"No, I want Duck to stay." The prince sat. "We've been talking with Strickland and Flowers. They told us about this attack on Storm's End that you're planning."

Jon Connington did not let his fury show. "And did Homeless Harry try to persuade you to delay it?"

"He did, actually," the prince said, "but I won't. Harry's an old maid, isn't he? You have the right of it, my lord. I want the attack to go ahead … with one change. I mean to lead it."

As I said in the part 1 of this series, there are many parallels between Aegon's story and Sansa's story. One is a future event, where Sansa and Aegonwill escape the toxic mentors that pose as their fake parent (even if Connington isn't 1/10 as bad as Littlefinger).

In Sansa's case, this most likely will happen when she flees north if "Sansa is Grey Girl" theory holds true (and it happened in the show, moreover this is a parallel she has with Arya and Bran as well, both will also have to flee their toxic mentors soon) and she'll grow more independent from Pedofinger as she regains her identity as Sansa Stark and with her cousin (and the North) by her side.

In Aegon's case, we can see that he's already more indepedent than he used to be (it all started when he stepped up at the Golden Company higher-ups and convinced them to fight for him and his cause). Connington suggests this is because the boy is now Aegon Targaryen and no longer Young Griff, in other words Aegon is growing more confident the more he regains his identity.I suspect that like Sansa, Aegon will grow even more confident with his cousin Arianne (and Dorne) by his side.

Sansa II ~ AGOT

When Sansa finally looked up, a man was standing over her, staring. He was short, with a pointed beard and a silver streak in his hair, almost as old as her father. "You must be one of her daughters," he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. "You have the Tully look."

Sansa VII ~ AGOT

"I won't." He sounded almost like Marillion, the night he'd gotten so drunk at the wedding. Only this time Lothor Brune would not appear to save her; Ser Lothor was Petyr's man. "You shouldn't kiss me. I might have been your own daughter . . ."

"Might have been," he admitted, with a rueful smile. "But you're not, are you? You are Eddard Stark's daughter, and Cat's. But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was, when she was your age."

The Griffin Reborn ~ ADWD

But when Jon Connington stepped out onto the high battlements, the view was just as intoxicating as he remembered: the crag with its wind-carved rocks and jagged spires, the sea below growling and worrying at the foot of the castle like some restless beast, endless leagues of sky and cloud, the wood with its autumnal colors. "Your father's lands are beautiful," Prince Rhaegar had said, standing right where Jon was standing now. And the boy he'd been had replied, "One day they will all be mine." As if that could impress a prince who was heir to the entire realm, from the Arbor to the Wall. (...)

"Lord Connington," he said, "I like your castle."

"Your father's lands are beautiful," he said. His silvery hair was blowing in the wind, and his eyes were a deep purple, darker than this boy's. "As do I, Your Grace. Please, be seated. Ser Rolly, we'll have no further need of you for now."

Pedofinger and Ebonington. Leave the children alone! *screams*

Bayverse TMNT: a love confessing wedding (Leo x reader)

Summary: you meet the turtles and Leo falls in love with you, but never told you how he felt. you tell him the exciting news of the engagement, and he finds out who the groom really is. how will Leo stop all this and confess his love to you? read and find out! 

Leo was in his room sharpening his katanas. he always thought about you every single day. he really wanted to tell you that he really loves you. the only problem is, he couldn’t say it due to the feeling of being rejected. he continues to sharpen his weapons, until he got a text. it was from you. it said: “could you meet me by an ally way? I have something exciting to tell you.” he smiles and heads out. as he got to the place you told him to meet you at, you finally made it and he smiles. “hey (Y/N). did April take you here?” you shook your head, and replied. “no. I walked. but I’m glad you came though.” you smiled and he smiles back. “um...so. you said you wanted to tell me something. what is it?” he was hoping it was about you telling him that you like him and such, but instead he got a different response that made him frown a bit. “I’m getting married. it’s next month. I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you earlier a year back. my fiance and I already have everything ready for it. it’s taking place in a large local church.” Leo stares at you frowning a bit with disappointment, but eventually shook it off acting like he is happy to hear about it. “oh! um...that’s wonderful to hear. I’m so happy for you.” he smiles a bit and you look at him smiling. “yeah. here’s the invitation if you’d like to come.” you give to him, and he nods thanking you. “well. I better go. I have ceremony practice to go to.” you say goodbye to him, but Leo stops you for a split minute, and he takes out a gift. “here. I made this for you. it’s not much, but....it’s something for you to remember me by.” you unwrap the gift which was wrapped in old newspapers, it reveals a rose origami. you stare at it, and you smile at him giving his gentle hug. “ thank you Leo. It’s lovely.” he hugs back and he feels like he doesn’t wanna let go. but still. he was still too nervous to tell you. you both say goodbye to each other, and Leo heads back home to the lair. his brothers notice how disappointed he looked. he sits down and sighs shaking his head thinking to himself that he should’ve told his confession earlier. but it may be a bit too late for that now. a month has finally passed, and it was the wedding day. Leo was putting on a tux that is big enough for him to fit into. it was a good thing Casey and April got the tuxedos for him and his brothers to wear. April walks up to him and notices how unhappy he looked. “Leo. are you okay? you should be happy about (Y/N)’s big day.” he sighs and responds. “I know I’m supposed to but....I just....I can’t...I love her...she means everything to me. I should’ve told her how I felt earlier before any of this.” April pats him on the arm and looks up at him. “you’ll find someone one day. don’t worry.” Leo nods, and everyone leaves to head to the church. Leo waits for April and Casey while his brothers wait in the shell raiser, until he hears a voice from a nearby window. he looks into it, and it was the groom yelling on the phone talking to someone. “I will make sure the wedding is a success. once I marry this woman, nothing will stop us! it’s not just for the money, but to also kill those damn turtles! I will not have our men blow their cover!!....No! I will not let them escape! I promise you that!.....yes, yes! I will take out the leader first! he is the most obvious easy target. okay look. the wedding is starting in a few minutes. I’ll see you after the ceremony.” the groom hangs up, Leo was in complete shock. this guy is up to no good. he rushes back to the shell raiser where his brothers are at. he takes off his tux and grabs his katanas. “guys! head on home! there will be no ceremony! I gotta stop this thing!!” his brothers were confused. but Leo didn’t want any long arguments about it for right now. “no more talking! I got a wedding to stop!”  the wedding finally starts, and the priest start speaking. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this man, and this woman in holy matrimony, before the presents of god. before we start, is there anyone here present who objects this ceremony, and wishes that these two shall not be-” Leo opens the doors, and yells out. “I object! stop the ceremony! I have something to say! it’s very important! I beg of you! just listen!” everyone gasped as they see him, (Y/N) stands there baffled. “Leo....why are you doing this?” Leo walks up to you, and takes a deep breath. the groom tries to push Leo away, but then he pushes the guy back. “please. let me say my peace.” the guy stops and stares angry at the turtle. Leo turns to you, “don’t marry this guy. he’s not a good guy for you. you deserve better than this. and....I...*clears throat* um....I-I wanted to say that....I love you (Y/N). I always have. I can’t spend another day without you....and I mean that.” you stare at him as you start to tear up a bit. “Leo...why didn’t you tell me?....” Leo sighs deeply, and responds softly. “it’s because of me being  a mutant. I thought you wouldn’t like me back because of it....now you know....” you both smile at each other and you both slowly lean into each other about to kiss, but then the groom snatches you away from him. “enough games!!” Leo takes out of his katanas, and starts to threaten him. “let her go!! I know what you’re trying to do! I heard everything!! so who are you!!?” The groom looks at everyone, and back at Leo. “you wanna know?....” then there was silence. that is when the groom takes out a microphone and talks into it. “it is time boys. we got him now.” suddenly, a bunch of foot clan soldiers uncovered themselves from their fancy attire, and surrounds Leo. “that’s right! I am the son of the infamous Shredder! I had to do something so I can make him proud to kill you! I will bring your head to him once I am done with you!! you think you call yourself a man? than why don’t you come and face me!?” Leo’s eyes turn from subtle to seriousness and rage. “with pleasure!” and so the foot clan attacks and Leo takes them out single handedly, and the son of shredder attacks Leo in the face. it was an endless sword fight, and Leo at first was winning, but then his katanas get knocked down. he never knew how strong and very skillful this guy’s fighting style was. Leo was trying his best to defend himself, but from every cut and blow lead him to being vulnerable. you couldn’t help but stop watching the horror. Leo was on the verge to passing out of exhaustion and defeat trying to keep himself up. you try to stop your fiance from killing poor Leo, but then you get hurt yourself as you get hit back hard from the bastard. Leo witnesses it, and then he becomes very angry and literally beats the living shit out of the guy, and almost killed him. but thankfully, he stopped since he knows that being a ninja doesn’t mean he has to kill others for justice. he runs up to you although injured, he doesn’t care at all. all he ever cared was you being okay. “Leo!” you both hugged each other, and Leo apologizes many times but, then you stopped him by kissing him on the lips. “you know, I kinda need that.” he smiles and slowly gets up as they hear the echoes of sirens from a distance. “let’s go home. I really some medical attention. I know for a fact Donnie will help out with that.” you all head to the lair. thankfully, at least the wedding is over....in a disastrously way actually. a year later, you and Leo go out on dates, had your ups and downs during the relationship, but now, you finally decided to tie the knot. Leo was nervous of course. Donnie was chosen to be best man, and Mikey was getting  a bit bored since he just wanted to eat the cake already. as you walked down the aisle, Leo couldn’t help but just stare. the ceremony was going well. and it was time to say the vows. Leo was trying to fight the tears. as he says his. “(Y/N), I have so many things to share with you that I couldn’t express. we may be different, and we may be judged by others in the outside world, but I will promise myself that I will never let anything get in between us. I will honor and cherish you, and spend our days together in our eternal lifetimes. I love you. and I hope our happiness will show that humans and mutants can live in peace and.....bring a new society that we all deserve.” you smile at him, and you say your own vows. “Leo. ever since we met, you were the turtle who never wanted to give up hope and take on the big responsibility as leader of your family. we always had great times spending our days getting to know each other and knowing we are different, we deserve a happy life. and I realize, we can’t live without each other. I will honor and cherish you, and I am happy that today, I call you my husband. I love you, and no matter who you decide to be, you are always human in my eyes.” you start to tear up, and the moment he wipes away your tears, he finally kisses you in the end. everyone cheered, and Mikey starts throwing a bunch of flower petals like a child “wooo! that’s my big bro right there!!” Raph rolls his eyes at him. “oh brother.” and so, you and Leo are finally happy being husband and wife and plus, hopefully mutants and humans may actually live happily together in peace.                                                          THE END (okay! and that was that! who should I do this next? Mikey, Raph or Donnie? I’d be happy to do more. had a lot fun doing this.) :)

Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing:  Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,  

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes 

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

 Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.   

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi​ decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves. 

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb.  Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

Vampires, pokemon, soulmates

//I first thought about having him playing a pokemon game. But why do that when you can have a pokemon au!

@amestrian-idiot corrected spelling and grammar and probably pokemon names spelled wrong!!

Edward yawned; he loved dark types more than it was probably healthy, so he had no problem standing in the cold of a winter night waiting for them to get tired of running around Granny's garden too.

He wasn't a dark specialist, because those people who only centered in one type were stupid and knew nothing about strategic relationships in a team of six; but he couldn't deny his love for such a cool type (which was only rivaled by steel types). And he could have as many of them as he wanted in his PC without breaking the balance of his great ass-kicking team.

As he watched Umbreon and Absol (Caius and Catastrophe, great names by the way) play chase while Mawile and Weavile (Blair and Frostbite) seemed to chat and groom themselves.

The sound of flapping wings broke the silence of the night. Clearer every second (Norma always had been pretty fast. Named by Winry, as to why her name is not something cool like Vampire or Bloodsucker) the impressive Crobat arrived in no time at his door, letting a fine letter fall by his side before perching herself on his shoulder.

It was a habit she had since he found the poor thing in an abandoned house he and Alphonse broke in to cause mischief.

Bloodsucker- Officially named Norma- was a small Zubat under a desk, too scared of the brothers to do anything and too alone to be normal.

When they managed to carry her back to granny, she'd told them the Zubat had a malformed wing, and probably would never fly.

Logically, that was the reason why she was abandoned by her parents as soon as she was born.Nature usually doesn't want any pokemon unable to live on their own. It wasn't unheard of mothers leaving some of their sick youth behind, to the benefit of the rest of the healthy ones in the litter. That's just how it works.

So she stayed with them. And she grew. And to rub it on whoever decision was to give her a malformed wing in the first place's face, she flew. Awkwardly at the beginning, better as she grew stronger, and by the time she was a Golbat, she could win races with other of their flying pokemon like his brother's Flygon.

Edward makes sure to remind him that every day.

Behind her, however, there came a bird pokemon he recognized a little later.

Roy's Talonflame, Gales.

The big bird had something in his powerful claws, and before he could do anything most of his pokemon were alert at the new intruder.

Most of them fluffing up to look more intimidating. It doesn't work when you're a cute Umbreon, he should tell Caius, but he feels a little bad by doing so.

Soon, they relaxed, when they realized it was only their usual delivery boy.

The pokemon left the package fall by Edward's feet just like Norma had done previously and perched on one of the fences.

Norma too perched, although upside down in the roof of their porch, and he went to bring water and food to the tired traveler pokemon.

Only when the needs of the flying pokemon were solved, he reached down to see what his beloved dork had sent him. Ed started to read the letter:

"Why do I even love you? You're so mean to me and my poor (as you would put it) flame-lame mono-bullshit pokemon team.

Even if I know how much you love riding on Rapidash or Arcanine, so they alone must have something charming for you.

Anyways, I'll take care of him very well, he seems to like the rest of the team so far.

Especially Charizard, he clung to Charizard. I'm watching them play as I write this. I should have expected a Houndour from you, I really should have. Anyways, writing this so I can explain: this isn't because you gave the Houndour to me, I'm not giving back the favor, she was here for a long time and I always thought of giving her to you, I just couldn't get the courage to do it.

So I had to wait until you had the same idea to man up and give her to her rightful owner.

I know how much you love this species and to be frank, it suits your bad-boy style.

But I'll let you see her by yourself. I hope you can come back soon, I miss your warmth by my side in bed (And if I hear a single joke about me having enough heat sources in the house, I'll kick you), and our strategies and how much it hurts the champion's brain that I can live with the monotype gym leader rule.

I miss you, Ed."

Edward read it several times, he missed his idiot just as much.

And he missed all his stupid smiles, and the chats while they had their morning coffees, and even that time when they did those stupid pokeblock recipes just to see how the pokemon would react to the treat, and all his flame pokemon that would get obliterated by the surf of a slowpoke and now he wanted to go back to Central, even if it meant leaving all his wonderful pokemon alone again.

He had to anyways; the season starts again the next week, so challengers would start to arrive, and neither his nor Roys pokemon would get as bored.

At last, he opened the box. It was big, no wonder Talonflame was going so slow; it had a smaller box with a Pokeball painted on it in one of the corners, it was big enough to fit a real ball inside; while the rest was filled with the usual: chocolate, one of the man's scarfs that smelled like him, some cute charms, toys for the mons.

But he was interested in the little box on the side. When he opened it, his suspicions were correct, a lunar ball nestled gently in a shaped pillow so it didn't move around.

Edward grabbed the ball and opened it. A beautiful blue Pawniard came into his view. He loved that man so much. He loved how much the other man knew him. And he loved the little oblivious pokemon standing in front of him.

As the other pokemon of the team came to check their new friend, Edward took a chain with a pendant hanging from the same box the Painwards Pokeball came in. "Sapphire" it read. He really did love that man.