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creoterative · 6 months

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The TWDG x Diablo Collection

Hey guys! Yeah, two posts in a row, and they're huge, wow!

Okay, enough with this xD I'm a little sick at the moment and started to read a few TWDG stories again. You know, it's only a matter of time before I get back into the fandom again, it always is with me. And then I can continue to write Let's play a Game then, with all my heart. Just feels wrong writing it without having my head in the game.

Anyways, remember these funny little shorts I made about Marlon the Demon Hunter and Louis the Scoundrel? Well, I put them all together now!

Have fun and a nice day!

PS: Just so there's no confusion, I changed their names, so here's a list.

Marlon - Demon Hunter (player character)

Louis - Lyndon, the Scoundrel

Brody - Eirena, the Sorceress

Aasim - Kormac, the Templar

Clementine - Leah, niece of Lee

Lee - Deckard Cain

Ms Martin - Myriam

James - Tyrael

Kenny - Haedrig

Katjaa - Mira

Lilly - Magdha

Abel - Cultist

Carver - Zoltun Kull

Minnie - Cydaea

Chuck - Shen

Charlie - Urzael

Clem's mother - Adria (I got lazy, ok)

---

Marlon after picking up an axe: “.... I can’t.”

Me: “What?”

Marlon: “I can’t use it....”

Me: “What do you mean, you can’t use it? It’s an axe, swing it!”

Marlon: “I’m an archer!”

Me: “Do I look like I care? Kill zombies, doesn’t matter how!”

Marlon: “I literally can’t use an axe.”

Me: “Take it, with both hands please, and swing it around.”

Marlon: “.........”

Me: “Okay, fine, use that old, dirty, almost falling apart bow, but don’t you dare gimme a heart attack when you don’t deal as much damage as you should.”

---

Marlon: *passing a random perfectly cooked boar in the middle of the forest*

Me: “....No.”

Marlon: “.....”

Me: “Don’t look at it, it’s probably infected, we are not going back to take a bite, we are not checking if it has any loot, this is definitely a trap- we’re going back, alright.”

---

Marlon: “What is your uncle searching for?”

Clementine: “He’s trying to find the last pieces of the prophecy, that will show us how to make an end to the prime evil. Urgh, just another one of his many fairytales.”

Me, looking at Marlon, then at my pet devilish plant, that I named Rosie: “...Clem, you are literally standing next to a guy with red dragon wings, glowing eyes and a murderous plant. What do you mean ‘FaIrYtAlEs’???”

---

Ms Martin: “After fighting against the terror in his soul for so long, the King had to go insane, one way or another.”

Marlon: “He’s not the only one... My sister fell to darkness after our parents were slaughtered by the dead.”

Me: “...”

Marlon: “...”

Me: “And then you hit her with the flashlight or what?”

---

Aasim: “I will accompany you on your journey. Under one condition.”

Marlon: “What?”

Aasim: “If we find the old relics and folios of my order, they belong to me.”

Marlon: “Alright, I don’t have any use for books.”

Me: “Yeah, you like to shoot at them, especially the old dusty ones in hopes of finding gold, you maniac. That actually explains quite a lot.”

---

Marlon: “Of course there are three of them.”

Me: “Oh come on, I hate this task... just tell me in which crypt the crown is, damn blacksmith...”

Marlon: “Huh, it’s not in here. Gotta check the other ones.”

Me: “Uh-huh..... yeah..... sure.....”

Marlon: “Figures. It’s not in this one either.”

Me, on the edge to insanity: “WhO wOuLd HaVe GuEsSeD?????”

One insane horde of monsters and zombies later

Marlon: “Ah, there it is.”

Me: “.....Marlon, we went through SO much trouble for a dusty, broken, fucking old crown, I want more enthusiasm, you hear me??? Imagine finding food in the winter for Ericson’s, THAT’S gonna make you happy, right?! Imagine that and project it onto this little worthless piece of crap over there, because I am NOT doing anything like this again!!!”

Marlon: “....”

Me: “....”

Marlon: “....Should head back to Tristram.”

Me: “Yeah, sure.”

---

Louis: “Nice walk we’re doing here.”

Marlon: “We’re not on a walk, we’re fighting for our lives!”

Louis: “Even more reasons to enjoy the view!”

---

Clementine: “Look at this! This must’ve been built before the war of sins!”

Louis: “Oh, I can show you a thing or two about sins.”

Marlon: “Louis, shut up.”

---

Marlon: “Did you grow up as a Templar?”

Aasim: “No. Our sacred scriptures order us to spread out and fight the evil within people, then make them pure again.”

Marlon: “Huh. My initiation ritual was less... formal. I was asked if I want to kill demons and I said yes.”

Me: “...Marlon.... you.... you were twelve or so and severely traumatized.... I-I don’t know if... you really had a choice back there.....”

---

Aasim: “Do you ever feel fear when fighting the unholy creatures?”

Marlon: “If I ever felt it, it was comsumed by my hatred.”

Me: “So that’s why you thought it was a good idea to shoot at that big old door in the crypts, KNOWING that SOMETHING was waiting behind it. Something BIG.”

---

Maghda: “Nevermind! You will never get the second piece!”

Marlon: “Go to hell, witch!”

Me: “Damn, Marlon, wish you would’ve had these balls with Lilly. You know what, Imma call Maghda Lilly now, gotta make up for past mistakes, right?”

---

Louis: “HMMMM, sometimes I have a feeling you don’t really know where you wanna go.”

Marlon, after running towards a dead end in the spider cave for the fifteenth time: “Th-The right way isn’t always clear, you know?”

Louis: “Mhm, sure.”

---

Marlon: “So, where do you come from?”

Louis: “Kingshaven! The city right next to our beloved sea. Full of great treasure and nets with stinky fish.”

Marlon: “I know. What were you doing there?”

Louis: “O-Oh, well, I, uhm, at the moment I’m in a transition phase, you know?”

Marlon: “Nothing honorable, no doubt.”

Louis: “Hey, I’m the most honorable thief you’ll ever meet!”

---

Before Lee’s death

Lee: “The scriptures about the eternal conflict tell us about an old temple, where-”

Marlon: “I’m not interested in books, old man. Tell me where to go and I’ll do what has to be done.”

After Lee’s death

Ms Martin: “You look a little gloomy there. Tell me what old Ms Martin can do to lighten up your mood.”

Marlon, shadows swooshing around him, eyes glowing red: “I’m not in a bad mood. I’m excited for the moment when I kill Maghda and every single member of her godforsaken circle.”

Ms Martin: “Heavens, if that’s what you look like when you’re excited, I don’t wanna be around when you’re angry.”

---

Marlon: “Why do you waste your time lusting after women?”

Louis: “You can’t waste your time with anything better.”

Marlon: “But you let them fall without remorse.”

Louis: “There was only one who would’ve been worth it, but... she’s out of my reach now.”

Marlon: “That’s no excuse for running after every woman we meet.”

Louis: “You’re totally right, sometimes THEY should be running after ME!”

---

Marlon: “Who taught you how to fight?”

Louis: “My older brother. He thought the crossbow was the ideal weapon for me because it gives you time to run away if things go wrong.”

Marlon: “The crossbow is no weapon for cowards.”

Louis: “Nawww, did I insult you?”

Marlon: “Be quiet.”

---

Abel: “He’s unstoppable! No ordinary human could slaughter our brothers like this!”

Lilly: “Then die well! Lord Belial will honor your deaths!”

Abel: “He’s here! Kill him!”

Marlon, busting through the door: “COME AND GET ME, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! GO BACK TO HELL, ALL OF YOU!!!”

Louis: “Damn right, they didn’t even mention me!”

---

Louis: “Do you think I’m her type?”

Marlon: “Whose type?”

Louis: “Your friend, Clementine’s!”

Marlon: “No.”

---

Marlon: “You look a little glum there. What is on your mind?”

Kenny: “Oh, I was just thinking about Katjaa...”

Marlon: “Oh... your wife. I’m sorry about that, but it had to be done. Do you want to talk about her?”

Kenny: “If you would like to listen... Actually, we met here in Caldeum.”

Marlon: “Here? How?”

Kenny: “You won’t believe it, but she was in a cage!”

Marlon: “What, you married a criminal...?”

Kenny: “No! She was accused of having used ancient, forbidden spells!”

Marlon: “You married a WITCH???”

Kenny: “Argh, forget about it.”

Me: “Marlon, you are running around with one, no two, wait, THREE witches yourself, a guy who we all think is some kind of ancient being, a guy who was an ARCHANGEL and a lady who can see the future. And don’t forget the thief!” *Louis waving in the background*

---

Carver: “You and I aren’t that different from each other. I can help you to gain the power of your birthright, the power, to rule the world.”

Marlon: “That’s a bad idea. I can’t fight with someone I don’t trust.”

Me: “....Wait, hold on, if you trusted him, you WOULD do it???”

---

Marlon: “King’s Haven is a great city. Why did you leave?”

Louis: “Oh, the usual, I wanted to see the world!”

Marlon: “Let me guess, you stole something from an important person and got caught.”

Louis: “...yeah....”

---

Minnie: “I hope you didn’t take on too much, little boy.”

Louis: “Hah, never!”

Marlon, back to back with Louis, almost bleeding out: “NEVEEEER!!!”

---

Aasim to Marlon: “Wait. Before we fight this unholy creature... When we first met, I thought you were reckless and eaten up by your own hatred-”

Me: “You weren’t wrong there, buddy.”

---

Ms Martin: “Horrible things happen, even as we speak. I see a city in flames and an old friend, who pays the ultimate price so that the truth can come to light.”

Marlon: “That sounds familiar....”

Ms Martin: “Oh, you can see the future too?”

Marlon: “No, I - forget it...”

Me: “....No, please do elaborate, what the fuck did you accidentally activate this time?”

---

James: “I called these holy heavens my home... To see it in shambles like this, it pains me more than the endless battles we fought day by day against the dark armies of hell.”

Louis: “Oh, with a bit of demon blood and ashes scattered across the floor, they’ll look just fine, don’t worry!”

Marlon: “Louis, if you don’t shut up, I’ll throw you back to earth.”

---

Louis: "Westmarch is just one big disaster. I need a drink. Or five."

Marlon: "Wait until we're done saving the city."

Louis: "But you're always taking so long!"

---

Louis: "Sometimes I can't tell which one of our friends is the most insufferable. Kenny is always miserable and Chuck eats like a boar. Somehow, you seem to be the normal guy in the group."

Marlon, thinking about his cruel, dark, traumatizing past: "....I'm sorry, what?"

---

Marlon, to a villager: "Leave that necromancy stuff, you hear me?!"

Louis: "You're one to talk."

Marlon, offended: "Hey, shadowmagic is totally different!"

---

Charlie: "But what I saw were humans. Lots of them. They kill, they sin, they enjoy the bloodshed they cause. And they always choose violence."

Louis: "And sometimes we live, laugh and love. Hell, some of us even marry."

---

Louis: "Do you think our journey still has a purpose?"

Marlon: "What purpose could be greater than fighting the personification of Death itself?"

Louis: "Oh, I dunno, a nice evening in a bar with friends that don't die in the end?"

---

Louis: "I wonder where all the Nephalim went that lived in this city."

Marlon: "You can see those bones on the ground, right?"

---

Marlon: "Why didn't they send reinforcements from Bramwell or Kingshaven?"

Commander: "Didn't you know? The maidens are attacking every single city from here to Caldeum."

Marlon: "Oh..."

Louis, slightly panicking: "That's all you gotta say?! OH???"

---

Louis: "Leave me alone..."

Marlon: "Stop drowning yourself in liquor. It won't bring your brother back. You should bring that knife to Kenny and find out who killed him."

Louis: "I already know that, it was the goddamn clan of thieves...."

Marlon: "That's only a guess. And that can be dangerous."

Louis: "Listening to you is dangerous!"

---

Clem's mother: "She... has a good heart, my daughter."

Marlon: "What, you didn't want that?"

Clem's mother: "A good heart doesn't help us in these difficult times."

Marlon, looking over his shoulder:

Louis in the background, playing with a little meat golem that he found in the woods

Marlon, looking back at Clem's mother: "That guy over there is still alive and helpful as ever."

Louis: "Hey Marlon! It can give a high-five!"

Marlon: "....Mostly helpful."

---

Marlon: "Only the dead smell this bad. The fallen star has to be close."

Louis: "Funny, I thought that smell came from you."

---

Marlon: "Old Tristram... Diablo's essence still haunts this place, even after all these years."

Louis: "Was it the never ending darkness or the dead people walking around that made you guess that?"

---

Aasim: "How did I not see how corrupt my order is?"

Louis: "We all make mistakes. You just make some more."

Marlon: *elbows him in the gut*

---

Marlon: "Our enemies keep coming, no matter how many of them we kill..."

Louis: "What, are you getting tired?"

Marlon: "Never. I'll kill them all, whatever it takes."

Louis: "Geez, always so serious."

---

Louis: "Pretty aggressive foliage here, hm?"

Marlon, dangling from a few living vines: "Oh, how ever did you guess that?!"

---

Louis: "You know, I'm known as a real philanderer back in King's Haven."

Marlon: "I couldn't care less, Lou. It's not important right now."

Louis: "Of course it is! Women get wild in the apocalypse!"

Marlon: "Sometimes I regret agreeing to your company."

Me: "And the fact that Louis has never touched a woman in his life makes this even more ridiculous."

---

*Marlon and Louis saving a poor peasant from a horde of monsters*

Peasant: "Thank you so much! My wife and I thought we'd be dead for sure!"

Marlon: "You're safe now, no need to be scared."

Peasant: "Please, come with me, my wife wants to thank you too!"

Louis: "You're wife, you say?"

Marlon: *shooting him an annoyed look*

Peasant: "Here, my darling, the two brave men who saved us!"

Marlon: "..."

Louis: "....Are you... seeing what I'm seeing...?"

Marlon: "That is no longer your wife."

Peasant: "She hasn't eaten very much in the past few days, but I still love her!"

Marlon: "Sometimes, love is to let go."

*the woman's head falls off*

Peasant: "Oh, she fell asleep..."

Louis: "If I ever fall asleep that way, throw me to the pigs, it's long overdue."

---

Marlon: "Would you ever robb a grave?"

Louis: "Well, is it really robbing, when the person it belonged to doesn't have any use for it?"

Marlon: *shocked gasp*

Me: "Hold on, mister. We've been running around in this game for months now and you never questioned it when I made you loot a corpse or two or seven at once. You literally broke into so many crypts, I've lost count. And NOW you're wondering if that's a good idea? It never was, no doubt, we got into more trouble than we would've if we'd just let them lay there. But boy, your moral compass is a roulette wheel, if I've ever seen one."

---

Clementine: "We're not that different, you and I. The only difference is, that I can't control my power."

Louis: "Clem, Marlon wears a mullet, I'm not sure if he's able to get properly dressed in the morning."

Marlon: "I'm standing right next to you, you know?"

---

Louis: "So, those are the Halls of Agony. What a charming place."

Marlon: "I hope that was irony."

Louis, sarcastically: "Whaaat, no, I love being impaled by an iron maiden or getting burned by some crazy cultist, that's my favorite thing on saturdays!"

---

Brody: "That man you are traveling with, he has the same aura as a Seraph!"

Marlon: "James. Yeah, he fell from heaven to help us save the world."

Brody: "You are truly blessed with your comrades."

Marlon, looking at Louis: "I am?"

---

Louis: "Treasure might be the finest thing in the world. There's nothing like it!"

Marlon: "You're always talking, aren't you?"

Louis: "It's one of my better qualities."

---

Louis: "I can get you a better bow if you'd like, Clemmy."

Clementine: "By stealing it?"

Louis: "Does it matter?"

Marlon: "Of course it does."

Louis: "How strange."

---

Louis: "What is your deepest wish?"

Aasim: "To serve my order valorously."

Louis: "Oh."

Aasim: "You sound disappointed."

Louis: "My wish is to be incredibly wealthy and surrounded by beautiful women. Yours is simply lacking by comparison."

---

Alright, that was it! Hope y'all like it and have a nice day!

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hmsharmony · 1 year

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5. 10. 19.

Apologies in advance for this having nothing to do with Spider-Man until 19. 😬

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Merlin/Arthur how I loathe thee. The racism and misogyny I had to witness (e.g., petition to replace Angel with Colin when she was scheduled to do an interview with Bradley). I began the show shipping everyone in the core four (although Arthur/Gwen was my OTP), but the treatment of Gwen by many Merthur shippers soured me on the ship. The final nail in the coffin was when a friend, an Arthur/Merlin shipper, found out I shipped Arthur/Gwen and expressed disgust. Fuck that.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

The one that immediately comes to mind (which will not come as a shock to anyone who was around in 2011/2012) is Merlin’s “Gwen is enchanted to kiss zombie!Lancelot the night of her wedding, Arthur finds them, and he banishes her from Camelot on pain of death because ‘I don’t want to see you dead but I don’t want to see you.’”

A few things that fill me with rage to this day:

zero agency for Gwen (who never finds out she was enchanted the actual fuck!!!);

Arthur using his power as king to deal with a personal issue;*

Gwen going through literal hell on her own (taken captive and visuals/language making clear her captor plans to sexually assault her; escaping when she discovers her captor is working with Morgana and they plan to harm Camelot so even though she can’t return ON PAIN OF DEATH she makes her way back anyway; almost freezing to death during said journey; getting chased down by Morgana, who knocks her out and turns her into a DEER while Arthur is going on a hunting party with a prospective bride; said woman SHOOTING DEER GWEN WITH AN ARROW)

Gwen saying she has what she deserves when she tells Merlin she can’t return to Camelot because she betrayed Arthur;

Arthur finding her ring in the middle of the forest and not wondering WHY it was there or if she’s okay; and

an underwhelming resolution where everything is swept under the rug and they IMMEDIATELY GET MARRIED DESPITE THERE CLEARLY BEING MAJOR TRUST ISSUES AND GWEN MOST DEFINITELY HAVING PTSD WHAT ARE YOU DOING

(Bonus Gwen saying she can’t forgive herself and Arthur saying he doesn’t care I am still livid and it has been more than a decade let Gwen have negative feelings!!!)

Took me literal years to love that ship again because of this storyline.

*It would have been much more interesting if it had been framed as “it’s either saving the woman you love or upholding the law” like they did in Camelot. The show (claimed) to be in large part about how Arthur would create a new, fair Camelot (lmao). They missed a perfect chance to have him wrestle with what that means and the sort of king he wanted to be. I kind of played with that in the spec fic I wrote for 4x09, but to this day I want so much more.

19. What is one thing you hate most about your fandom?

I want to preface this by saying that, because of previous fandom experiences (including the infamous Harry Potter ship wars during my formative years), I was careful to cultivate my Spider-Man fandom experience from the get-go. My first couple years I literally only talked to existing friends who also loved PeterMJ (save for one fanvid I made in late 2019, but really I was just thanking people for commenting). It’s only in the past ~year I started interacting with new people, and even then I’m still very careful about expanding my bubble. So I’ve insulated myself pretty well, and I mostly have only secondhand knowledge of the horrendous side of this fandom (versus my merlin days where I would explore outside my bubble and see so much fucked up shit, usually of the racism variety).

With that out of the way: this is so minor in the scheme of things, but whenever someone calls MCU PeterMJ a slow burn I want to rip my face off. I love these kids but what they had was the exact opposite of a slow burn. And it’s not because it was done in one movie—When Harry Met Sally is 100% a slow burn in my book, and yes, the focus is that relationship, but there WERE things homecoming or far from home could have done. Not putting in the work to establish an existing relationship and instead going straight to Peter liking her is not a slow burn. (Now the way they hinted at MJ’s feelings in Homecoming? That was slow burn potential. Would’ve killed for something similar for Peter. And I say this as someone who had the biggest goddamn smile on her face everything they interacted when I first saw Far From Home.)

Salty Ask Game

#Merlin s4 #in all its shame #shipping: arthur and gwen #clearly never over s4 because look at the caps lock #Harry potter mention for the blacklist #spiderman (mcu)#shipping: peter and mj #it’s been so long since I did a good nice rant #I feel freed

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mindynichole · 2 years

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Ummm Guys... @Twdmusicboxmystery ... you might want to come take a look!

Because I agree that Emily's recent Instagram stories have been interesting as heck!

This post is in response to a conversation that @twdmusicboxmystery posted between herself and her Team Delusional gals about some of Emily's recent social media activity. I did not reblog for space's sake but you can find her full post HERE...

So....in the @twdmusicboxmystery post one of the things she and her friends mention is this story that Emily shared within the last couple of days:

Being who I am, of course that meant I decided to do a little internet sleuthing...

And it didn't take me long to learn that this was a marketing story from Junona Fashion House's official Instagram page. They are a fashion designer for little girls clothing made and designed in Europe. Imagine my surprise to learn that it was specifically an advertisement story for their PARIS COLLECTION - which was a little buried on the page.

Look familiar?

Yeah? Well it gets better...Wait for it...

Because Norman decided to also post today on Instagram and this is what he had to say:

He also posted this story as well:

Here's the Lyrics for Mountain Song by Jane's Addiction.

....meaning the new Daryl Spin-Off started filming today (Monday, October 24, 2022.)

This actually surprised me because Norman was just in Cincinnati filming for a movie last week:

So does anyone else find it quite the coincidence Emily would be posting about the Paris collection of an European fashion designer just the weekend prior to the filming starting for the Daryl spin off - that is also conveniently happening in Paris?

But what about the Christmas movie?

Another thing that the gals in @twdmusicboxmystery post talk about is how Emily has been sharing a lot of stuff related to her new Lifetime Christmas movie: Santa Bootcamp.

This movie must have filmed months ago because it will be coming out on November 19, 2022 and they are already heavily promoting it:

I'm pretty sure that she's just trying to do her part to also promoting it on Instagram. This movie also features 2 deaf actors which might explain the script Emily shared last summer mentioning sign language that I speculated might be referring to Connie. Opps...

Another thing interesting is Christian Serratos (Rosita) has also been in Paris for the last couple of weeks doing a Dior photo shoot and promotional things for the designer. However, she posted several photos on Instagram yesterday from Paris (indicating she is still there) and one of them includes a salon full of Zombie busts. Therefore, Rosita could be connected somehow - though IDK why they wouldn't have announced this already since they've had no reason not to announce everybody on the show whose also participating on these new spin-offs.

Anyway, thoughts anyone?

#Bethyl #team delusional #team defiance #teamreckoning #beth is alive #beth greene #beth greene lives

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retphienix · 9 months

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Update on my "I'm trying some different mods and also trying to play outside of Louisville for fun" random guy!

He's been in intense pain for like 4 days! Nausea coming and going! Severe pain and all the negative thoughts!

The reasons for this are pretty simple- he got hurt, it got infected (not zombie), and the trait mod I'm messing with makes Prone to Illness and Slow Healer WAY more impactful lol

Prone to Illness has my guy thinking his infection is zombification, which gives him some nausea moodles, which fucks his health more.

Slow Healer straight up lowers my health more and more as I'm damaged and uh. I gotta be honest, I'm not quite sure how I was supposed to counter that lol

It became a feedback loop. I got ONE scratch and it IMMEDIATELY infected, maybe due to prone to illness. That infection FUCKED my moodles and health and then Slow Healer compounded that by lowering my health more and making the infection/scratch last longer.

I think each trait might be fair on their own? But the combo of the two became a feedback loop where one forces infections and the other drains your health to 0 over the course of a few days if you stay infected- which it makes you stay infected because it's a HUGE healing speed debuff (I mean, it's slow healer, duh).

I was disinfecting, re-bandaging, staying clean, eating good- all the stuff. This duo of traits FUCKED ME UP lol

And so.

He didn't wake up.

His health went up to like half, and then when he was about to wake up the Slow Healer health debuff kicked in and he dropped to 0 and died. Note how he's not a zombie as well, straight up just feedback looped by slow healing a false zombie infection, oof.

This is a touch disappointing tbh. I *think* I like this trait mod.

So many trait mods are superfluous in my opinion. I know how that sounds because I just used the word "superfluous" but I mean it's straight up just the truth lol

I've tried So Many trait packs, all the popular ones, a million you've never tried- so many of them are like "Here's a +1 trait for every skill in the game, here's 15 traits that do nearly nothing or give you a starting item, here's- for some reason- like 4 perks that Break The Entire Fucking Game (We're talking perks that triple your carrying capacity, perks that make a notoriously durable weapon [crowbars] do like 30x the damage so they become the BEST item in the game, we're talking recovering ammo as you shoot it, like, yeah no).

my favorites are the ones that actually add interesting options- for both positive and negative traits- and then don't fuck it up by adding 300 more on top of that.

Also a fan of the "I wanted to give occupations more identity" mods, Occupation expertise does pretty well at that.

Anyways this mod does a pretty good amount- it tries to make "some" occupations have some identity via unique traits applied to them and only them- the fact it's just "some" kinda makes it a lot less interesting but fair play fair play-

it also tries to make negatives more impactful and less "free" and positives more impactful and less "worthless why would you choose this". I LOVE those decisions.

But IDK if I LOVE the mod yet. Like I genuinely like that this combo of traits was so impactful to my play- but I'm not so stoked to see that I basically got locked into a fail state with very little I could do because I got SCRATCHED ONCE while having 2 traits.

Mayhaps it was the working out- but my workout was not affecting me when I died, so seems doubtful. I mean my soreness went away like 1 hour into sleeping and a new soreness was not on the way- if anything I should have had a LOT more wiggle-room for health- not less.

On to the next character lol, I think I'll make another with this same mod pack and just run over to my corpse to continue. Not sure just yet.

Actually you know what probably sealed this. I was trying to ween off cigs. I bet the duo of traits wouldn't have fully killed me if I just cracked and smoked a bit.

So skill issue.

#project zomboid #RetPlays

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sanchoyo · 1 year

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arc v 31-40 thoughts. um. um well, yes………these kids need therapy, to preface this…holy shit ? wow. a lot happened in this stretch of episodes, answered some questions and raised 4000 more. anyway.

-SHINGO TRYING SOOOOO HARD TO BE COOL BUT BEING A MASSIVE DORK IS JUST ENDEARING ME TO HIM SO MUCH MORE. HES LIKE SHOOTING UP MY RANKING. which right as im typing this on 31, is yuzu, shingo, sora, masumi, reiji, and michio as my favs (probably in that order, too. im just as shocked sora got up so high, considering i was ANNOYED when he showed up first LMAO his friendship with yuzu is so endearing tho…)

-new opening! interesting imagery in it, but def liked OP 1 way more song-wise. -_-

-every word out of shingo's mouth im like . yeah ok im loving him hes SO funny JSDHFJK . his deck is furry samurai too, which is. well. its very good.

-reiji seems more concerned with his own goals to see yuya as a proper rival! I think he just sees him as the son of someone he admired, and someone of interest bc of pendulum! I dont think he thinks of this 14 yr old as a threat to his status or anything! which is the usual ygo rival MO…feels like shingo really is that rival character, which makes more sense to me given my expectations for a rival lol! 31-32 were the eps that made me start rly like yuya more (not that I disliked him before! just…he felt more like a protag when he started getting super into it!!! yes show some passion tomato boy!!!)

-wasnt too crazy about the new outro, either (the visuals were nice at least!)

-ok shingo is def the rival, right? right. a lil gay with it. theyre so CUTE firing each other up so much, its actually pretty fun and theyre both having a good time getting the crowd worked up together…wholesome! like, very very wholesome! 32 might be one of my fav eps, along with the yuzu/masumi 2nd duel…

-cannot fucking explain the drop in my stomach when getting to an episode just titled 'neo heartland city' and nothing else. NO NONOONO. NOT MY FUCKING CITY WITH MY FUCKING BLORBOS. EVEN IF ITS SOME KIND OF AU SITUATION IM SO SCARED.

-called it with the masumi being some kind of brainwashed to think shun was always lds! me and yuzu are on the same page

-ok seeing heartland city field spell was DISTURBING LIKE WATCHING A ZOMBIE OF A LOVED ONE BEING REANIMATED. all of the charas are calling it futuristic.. so is... is arc v chronologically in the PAST???? are all the dimensions also on different YEARS or??

-christ alive! reiji is doing the heartland city field spell on PURPOSE TO UPSET SHUN??? 'he should be happy' BITCH HE ISNT HAPPY. SHUN IS A HEARTLANDER. WHICH I ASSUMED BC XYZ, BUT YEAH. YEAH. WHAT HAPPENED BUDDY TELL ME!!!

-oh god

-oh god. what the fuck, sora.

-ok. well. i knew this would happen. could not have predicted HOW or the fucking tone shift. I have whiplash. this was hard to watch, I literally had to keep pausing to get up, pace, breath, then come and sit again. several times. the actively being super fake from sora, trying to be cheerful and nonchalant and a bit bratty but still trying to hype the crowd, then the gradual, then frantic build up to someone clearly UnWell and Maniacal and SADISTIC and DESPERATE to Say the Least...insanely well done, hard to watch bc it HURTS. LIKE.

-what the hell, sora. -what the HELL. its not like I ever ENTIRELY trusted him, but my GOD. the execution was flawless

-'hunting you all is FUN and not hard at ALL and I LOVE IT' OK???? 13 YR OLD LOVES GENOCIDE. AND THE OTHER 14? 15? YEAR OLD CLEARLY TRAUMATIZED. BUT IN A RESISTANCE OF SOME KIND. COOL COOL COOL. ALL MY FAVS ARE PROB DEAD OR IN CARDS AUGH.

-both of them need therapy. this whole ordeal, soras scary creepy faces, making children cry, using the scariest creepycute monsters ive ever seen? endears him more to me somehow. hes a littol fucked up actually…more than expected…I can VIBE with that. I LIKE characters that are a Little Fucked and yugioh has NO shortage of them. might have to swap around that fav charas order list immediately.

-I felt bad for shun the entire duel, my god it was cruel of reiji to pull this field up! its! fucking heartland city! AAUGH IM SAD TOO, SHUN.

-fucking . horrifying how desperate sora is to win. shun is fighting for resistance and for survival, sora is trying to prove he can easily 'hunt' xyz users…which, he obv Cant Easily Do, he gets Squished, loses, passes out and has to go to the hospital. thru out this ordeal yuya and co are becoming progressively more horrified, but still care for their friend! awful awful painful to watch. but also, they might be the only ppl sora has in this dimension and I think. i think we can Fix Him. hes YOUNG we can FIX that mindset, right…or am I being too optimistic. idk the way it was framed and how much yuzu and yuya care abt him…I feel like he'll be helped (I hope??? child soldiers bad)

-the next ep opens with yuya, gongenzaka and yuzu actually TALKING ABOUT ALL THIS, swapping info, and thank GOD for that!!!! I felt like yuzu was the only one of them involved heavily in the main plot for a while there!!! yuya was actually pretty serious about it, which is Nice to see (again, hes starting to feel more like a 'protag' to me now…)

-sora and yuto confrontation leads to an escape from the hospital and a duel, of course…that shun doesnt WANT to continue bc sora is obviously! hurt! and yuto isnt HEARTLESS. sora is desperate to Prove Himself (making me wonder if academia punishes ppl who dont…do well or agree to help them…) and fucking yuya finally steps in to help. altho given the context clues. well buddy it doesnt sound like soras on the Correct Side! it sounds like! hes the bad guy here! (or, raised in that mindset at least, not the main bad guy but def needs to be treated carefully) n u shouldnt be dueling yuto at all bc u dont understand the situation!! AUGH. I GET it tho, the little blue freeloader has been eatin pancakes with u everyday for how long,, hes grown on ME TOO SO I CANT SAY ANYTHING. AUGH.

-sora got Sucked Back to fusion dimension bc his identity was compromised. THATS why he couldnt tell anyone! actually very understandable.

-yuto and yuya stopped their duel, realizing they have absolutely NO reason to fight, and yuto was very reasonable and explained everything! im shocked at the straightforward answers to a lot of my questions (I still have a lot more…interesting yuya's dimension is 'standard'…hm)

-they analyzed soras memories without consent while he was unconscious………………dude. dont DO THAT!!!

-banana hair is here! on a bike! I'm a lil confused at synchro's role in the war? they were recruited by fusion?? to help crush xyz?? or just yugo was?? or its a misunderstanding somehow bc they both seem to think the other stole something (someone, right?)... is my ASSUMPTION (at the start of 37 as I type this) which is…ok, reiji's dad is behind it for Some Reason. Why? why just target xyz?

-also where is dm in all of this? (…ok I have a THEORY with NO basis, that arc v/standard dimension is the direct branch of dm but years later. NO basis for this but it would explain where dm fits in, maybe? like arc v being an alternate branch instead of gx, and gx being the actual odd one out on the timeline?? I dont KNOW yet. I think zexal implied 5ds never happened at one point, right?? VERY confused LMAO)

-yugo? (sub says HYUGO which is very funny to me, I know theyre all yu-boys tho. cant fool me) is SILLY.

-ok, theres def four yuya-lookalikes (and yuzu, based on the ruri stuff). I've seen their designs before so I knew that obv, and one for every dimension. why…? whenever they summon their lil dragons and those start resonating they start to go. um. murder-y! yuya snapped yuto out of it, but STILL. I'm assuming this has something to do with…why theres four lookalikes, and yuzu and yuya's Magic Accessories. somehow. I assume maybe…not everyone has alternate dimension counterparts, maybe the accessories have a lot to do with it (~dimension magic~ ??) and them being too close starts to make them go a lil. crazy. (like. saying destroy everything jkdafjk) bc theyre all diff versions of the same person? like just born into diff dimensions. (insert trust no one not even urself memes here lol) and they have diff personalities based on their diff lives/families ofc…this is my theory For Now. lets see yuzu and ruri get close together to see if they also go crazy or What. I Am Waiting

-….yuto didnt DIE die just now right? he vanished. maybe he went back to his home dimension. it LOOKED like a death scene, but my god its ep 37! out of 150ish! he was set up as a main player right?? hes not DEAD dead??? yuya passed out for TWOOOO DAYS AFTER WITNESSING THIS???? he has the constitution of a sickly victorian maiden. (but also, is he just in his room and NOT A HOSPITAL??? HES IN A COMA!!! take him to the hospital tf!!! why are they entertaining meirus crystal spiritual healing!!! )

-oh my god YUZU is the one the bad guy wants? shes an important PIECE. NOT YUYA. AGAIN MAIN CHARACTER STATUSSSS I KEEP SAYING IT BUT. SHES SO IMPORTANT. (can I assume this shadowy bad guy figure is reijis dad? like thats gotta be, right)

-omg last yuya lookalike from fusion dimension is SQUIRRELY EVIL YUYA. I love this flavor of character I can tell just from his vibes hes fun. and hes pink and purbly. good! (LMAO at them translating his name as joeri. its yuri right? theyre all yu-names, furthering my idea theyre all the protags of their dimensions lol)

-…i forgot the maiami championship was even happening LMAO would yuya and yuzu just not have participated further if he stayed in a coma??

-….sora being like 'PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO BACK TO STANDARD I WANT TO MURDER REFUGEES FROM XYZ SOOO BAD' while on some kind of medical table is. so. like do I laugh or cry about this KJHJSDJ

-SORRY BUT YAIBAS 4 SECOND LONG DUEL?? WAS SO FUNNY. GUY WHO JUST BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF YOU WHILE PLAYING A CARD GAME. SURE!!! OK. guess THATS not against the rules! THEY HAD TO CARRY HIM AWAY ON A STRETCHER. and yuya duels this dude next…I hope yuya returns that energy LMAO

-HEY what the HELL yuya is not responsible for your issues kachidoki LMAO how is it his fault he was having fun with his dad as a kid and you werent?? big jealousy match (also, what the hell @ his sensei telling him he wont have 'childish or fun' duels…when he looked like, 5? HES A BABY AND ITS A GAME SIR)

-'so far you've been walking a sunny path without a single shadow' my god dude, just bc yuya SEEMS happy doesnt mean he has no problems? he HELD A BOY WHO DIED(?) IN HIS ARMS 2 DAYS PRIOR TO THIS DUEL. HES GOT AN INTER-DIMENSIONAL MYSTERY ABOUT HIS LOOKALIKES. POTENTIAL DIMENSIONAL WAR TO DEAL WITH. HIS DAD WENT MISSING WHEN HE WAS A KID!! HES GOT!! PLENTY OF ISSUES!!!

-just as I type that. yuya is having a fucking TRIP about yuto and. looks fucking POSSESSED. RED EYES GLOWING HAIR UP. DID YUTO POSSESS HIM?? WHAT THE HELL. yugioh standard I Guess but is yuto for real just a spirit now?? LIKE, did he ACTUALLY KIND OF DIE DIE. UNSETTLED. (yaaaay xyz protag moment tho ^_^) I guess protags going dark/having a dark side IS ygo standard, theyve all been there! (I mean, ik about vrains, go rush or sevens yet…but up until arc v its been a consistent!) yuto was def not THAT level of scary tho (except when the dragons were resonating and he was all 'destroy everything . um.)

-lmaoooo kachidoki rly got what he asked for. he said ur gonna taste the darkness. and YUYA WENT FULL RUTHLESS SCARY MODE. GOT EM SO FAST. yes yuya everyone is scared of you a little bit HOWEVER consider that I LIKE scary characters who are a Bit Fucked up. keep it up bestie

-my god reiji is basically holding shun hostage, not letting him do anything, or not telling him abt yuto's duel disk being found….mean!

-we're 40 eps in and I still have SO many questions. however we must pause the plot for MAGICAL IDOL GIRL DUEL. SHES SO CUTE!!!!! girl duelists > everyone else. of course we dont get to see yuzus duel, we cut to reiji dueling some rando guard of not yuzu's while not yuzu stands to the side. very cool how they keep not letting the girls do Anything

-reiji is like 'yo why da hells there (2) of yuzu too' me too bud go solve mysteries for me scooby doo!

-very nice how reiji is like 'seal this area and dont let anyone enter until I say so' while theres danger, like, feels like he actually gives a shit despite his cool and levelheaded personality, which is nice. hes not gonna be my number one probably, but I do rly like him as a character so far… (except when he chose heartland field for shun, that was FUCKED up and I still cant tell if he was being sincere in thinking shun would like it or purposely being an asshole…)

-oh my god its not ruri this girl is named serena. JSDFKDJF WELL. IN MY DEFENSE. I MAY BE STUPID. I was prepared to type a full paragraph abt how its so scary academia seems to have taken ruri and brainwashed her so she'd think she was on their side,, and serena. is not ruri. theyre two diff characters. like I thought they were the same person. omg. I was just abt to type 'how does anyone genuinely mistake yuya for yuto theyre SO different looking' then I DO THIS. incredible! thats a great stopping place LMAO

#arc v #sanchoyo liveblogs arc v #sanchoyorambles #ygo #bunch of very plot important eps all in a row!#the whiplash from the shingo v yuya duel to the sora v shun duel LMAO #I am EMOTIONALLY hurt. once again ygo has Done it to me

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steakout-05 · 1 year

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A List Of Headcanons Regarding Barry Steakfries Because No One Can Stop Me

this’ll be updated over time the more headcanons i either adopt or pull outta my ass :D

Starting off neat with this one, Barry is a raging bisexual. In a bonus episode in Age Of Zombies (Barry’s first official appearance in a game), Prince Runingunin (amazing name) dresses as a saloon girl who initially calls him for help. Barry, upon seeing him, kisses him (adorable), and after learning he’s actually the prince, he initially panics but then asks “Wait... why are you dressed as a confusingly hot saloon girl?” and “Wait... are you wearing Cherry Lip-gloss?”. Like the dude’s not even that panicked about it, just a little confused, even pretty interested haha. I’m also one of those fuckers who ships him and Craig HARD!! Barry does show an attraction to women as he did have a girlfriend at one point in Robot Bird (but that was before she dumped him for being too cool to show up to dinner). As a fellow gay I also have the tendency to have a lot of gay headcanons because men are cool and I just think LGBTQIA+ headcanons are neat :)

Short answer: Barry is autistic because I’m autistic and I said so. Not-so-short answer: When I watched Shirt Sleeves for the first time, I interpreted Barry’s urge to rip his sleeves as something he does for sensory stimulation, like if he’s understimulated or really excited or nervous. Barry is very easily excitable (see: literally any media he’s in) and impulsive which can lead to him unknowingly ripping his sleeves. I mean, he even says it himself: he often feels compelled to get really excited and to yell and rip his shirt material. Also he’s just.... so autistic??? I can’t explain it properly but he’s just like me fr i feel like Barry would tug at his sleeves when feeling real insecure i do the same thing i dont know

Another headcanon related to shirt ripping and this one’s more of a theory but his shirt ripping thing could also be something similar to Trichotillomania, which is a disorder in which the person pulls at their hair either from stress or because it pleases/satisfies/may ease anxiety for them. Barry may have something similar but for like... sleeve ripping. He describes his impulsive shirt ripping as a “disease” and that he thinks he’s unwell for it (i mean he even goes to therapy because he believes it’s affecting him that much that he’s concerned about it). In one part of the video, we see Barry as a little kid ripping at his sleeve and visibly becoming more relaxed and pleased (also the detail of him looking around as if looking to see if someone’s there is really interesting to me just a note to self) which to me says that this behaviour may be both a form of stim or another disorder which,,, yeah

Anyway enough about shirt sleeves, Barry has ADHD and there’s SO MUCH EVIDENCE!!! I wrote this all down in my notes and I am SO ready to infodump it okay so: In Rainbow Barry, he shows traits of desiring instant gratification and impulsiveness as he becomes progressively more frustrated about the order of his new jetpack taking forever (me too buddy) and he tries to get his mind off of it. Feeling super impatient, he runs to Legitimate Research’s lab, seemingly not noticing the truck coming towards him and proceeds to make anOTHER HOLE IN THE WALL HE ALREADY BROKE THROUGH (this reminds me of how whenever Saxton Hale jumps through a wall it’s in the shape of fucking Australia) (Barry is just the tinier Saxton Hale change my mind). Anyway, he also is forgetfull and has trouble with distractions, as again in Robot Bird, he misses dinner with his ex-girlfriend due to getting distracted and finding a robot bird that shits shoots money (but who needs a partner anyway when you have a sick ass robot bird that shoots money) (and a robot dragon that breathes fire) (and a robot dog that is awesome) (that you stole from a poor struggling scientist)

Barry shows more ADHD traits in The Very Last Minute, wherein the entire thing is about Barry procrastinating on this thing he really needs to do which is blasting monsters in the streets and whatnot. Y;know, just a regular Friday night. So anyway, Barry is shown trying his best to actually start training, but he just can’t seem to stop geting distracted all the time. Like, he’s excited about being able to blast shit into pieces, but he just can’t seem to get started actualy training for it and jumps from task to task and distraction to distraction, which struggling with focus is a trait that many people with ADD/ADHD have, me included. What’s intersting to me is how this links back to autism with a thing called “Demand Avoidance”, in which the person may like doing the task at hand, but when faced with a set time or deadline, they just can’t seem to get started and may feel overwhelmed. Barry, whilst procrastinating, appears to be visibly overwhelmed whilst skipping (which is apparently a thing necessary for training) (and why wouldn’t it be) which is probably just a joke but I really like overanalysing things and providing my own interpretation to stuff so,,, Barry likes training, the man is ripped as fuck and he has a lot of equipment in his house for it. However, because of the deadline, he feels overwhelmed and suddenly feels “lazy” and distracted by everything (even painting which he is REALLY good at!). There’s some lyrics in the song that go “Gotta keep focused, gotta keep training but I just can’t seem to stop procrastinating” and it relates to the feeling of “i really need to do this task right now, i know it’s important and i need to do it, but i just can’t” and it’s just both so relatable and so accurate to how it really is to be so procrastinated and/or overhwlemed when you really gotta do shit.

Barry’s need for instant gratification extends to Level 2 in which, after reaching the end of the lab, Barry feels unfulfilled that there’s no sort of reward, and he feels frustrated and empty. That’s... really all I got. There’s tons of other ADHD things related to Barry but I think I’d just be repeating myself if i wrote ‘em all down and i think i got my point proven

not a barry headcanon but Flash (his dog) has .wav files of normal dog barks which is why he sounds robotic in Shirt Sleeves thank you

you know how in the trailer, Barry has glasses? Yeah uh he actually needs those to see properly, so when he ditched them after breaking into the lab, he immediately realised that he couldn’t quite see certain obstacles like missiles from a good distance, so he went to the department of one of the scientists (via breaking through their wall) and was like “hey uhh.... you got any tiny non-nerd looking glasses that are invisible or something?” and the scientist was like “you mean contact lenses?” and Barry was like “yeah those” and now Barry has contacts :) (reminds me of how Jon has contacts in the Garfield strip.... i wonder why) (maybe Doc Boy punched him in the face one time i dunno) (EDIT: this was actually talked about in one of Barry’s vlogs! someone asked him about it and he explained that his poor eyesight was “cured” when a laser shot him directly in the eyes. this did cause side effects though, as Barry says that he occasionally “tastes colours” and sometimes has trouble controlling his bladder. which brings me into my next somewhat “canon” headcanon...)

Barry has synesthesia, more specifically he tastes colour. As mentioned above, Barry says this was caused by a laser to the eyes which... goddamn if the lasers at the lab have the ability to completely re-wire parts of your brain to experience synesthesia if shot into your eyes then i don’t even want to know what it’s capable of if you point it directly at your cranium.....

Stealing the jetpack wasn’t the first time Barry caused copious amounts of destruction and chaos, he is in fact a chronic and professional chaos causer, is banned from several establishments in Australia and that’s the reason he worked at a department owned by really Bad Corp (yeah its kind of implied he worked there in the trailer? its confusing) (EDIT: he was going door to door and selling gramophones and that’s why he rocked up at the lab. he doesn’t work at LR.... i dont know how i came to that conclusion)

When Barry first started his vlog, he was actually pretty nervous about it at first because he didn’t go online much (other than youtube to watch cat videos) (barry canonically watches cat videos and i think that is amazing) and definitely hadn’t started anything like a vlog to such a large group of people before. This is why he sounds more quiet, down to earth and has a lot more stutters and pauses in his speech, cause he was kinda nervy and hadn’t done this before. As the series went on though, and the more Barry got to learn his audience, he quickly became a lot more confident and loud as he got more comfortable and thus you don’t hear him stammer as often in the later episodes. Call that subtle character development!!!

thankyou for reading i’m going to play roblox now :)

#its MY jetpack joyride hyperfixation and I get to choose the headcanons!!!!#i want barry to steak my fries ;)#i dont know what the fuck that even means #i'll update this the more headcanons i get and make #i just really needed to get this all outta my head and write it

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inventors-fair · 2 years

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Shine On: Condition Winners! ~

Congratulations to @hiygamer, @misterstingyjack and @reaperfromtheabyss for winning this week’s contest!

There are a lot of cards that only require very minor tweaks this week, and most of them have stunning designs in general. It’s clear that people took a thoughtful mechanical approach and it shows a remarkable amount of good sense on that front. I think for flavor contests it can be hard to really dig into the mechanics at times, and I’ll be talking about that more later, but after a really rough week, I can’t wait to talk about these cards.

@hiygamer — Dovin’s Decree

From a flavorful perspective, I suppose one could make the argument that Dovin is saying “Stop that!” and then when he has time to slow down and think he’s saying “Okay, seriously, I’m enforcing these things.” That doesn’t really matter here because this is simply a strong limited card that makes a lot of good decisions possible. Bounce + Draw is good for stabilizing, Draw + Thopters is good for racing, and Bounce + Thopters is good for the tempo push. Adding the life onto the bounce really makes this card stand out, honestly.

Yeah, no, it’s totally a limited powerhouse and worth splashing for. I can see this in any Ravnican format, especially RNA where your fliers are important in the Esper splash and your ETB abilities are important in the Bant splash. I wouldn’t say that this card is blowing my mind, but it’s just so darn good. I think if we ever made a Cube, this would be a top-notch instant to add. What can I add that the card doesn’t already say better?

@misterstingyjack — Relentless Iteration

And again, a splashy card without a whole lot of flavorful backing but with a lot of mechanical strongness. Also set on Ravnica. Also with a WAR-block mechanic. ... Hm. Am I biased this week? I have no idea. This is just a strong card, though, although I might definitely be biased towards spell copying. That said, spell copying is generally weak as a mechanic if you’re not storming out. Does that matter? Not really. Because, well, this card’s smooth like buttery matte sleeves.

We encounter the “problem” where its strengths are self-proclaimed, so I guess I’ll just say that overall this week I like how people incorporated mechanics into their designs as a way to fully utilize the importance of the “if” clauses. I think that having an ear to the ground with how to use these things is important to a designer, and you used it well in a way that I hadn’t necessarily thought of. You know what would’ve been an absolutely stellar card this week, actually? I’m sorry to digress, but imagine if there was a card like this that used retrace and cared about the kind of land that was discarded to cast it. Right? This is a jump(start)ing-off point for a lot of fantastic space. That’s what I like about it the most. And I can imagine the silly Izzet art that comes with it.

@reaperfromtheabyss — Redolent Fleshcarver

Alara! God, I am biased. But, I’m also fair. I hope. Because this is a still-very-strong card with a single tweak. “Redolent.” I really don’t think that the unpleasantness of this guy is compatible with that word. “Pungent” might’ve been a little closer to what you were thinking, no? Anyway, get your ass out of the thesaurus and come back to the real world where this card kicks ass. A big thing that gets bigger with death is pushed these days compared to other zombies, but hey, that’s the nature of the beast. Or zombie. It’s not so strong as to be invincible, and the fact is that unearthing will potentially kill itself, which is important.

Still, “if it wasn’t cast” is so cool! You’re not usually gonna cheat it into play, but what if you did? I mean, shoot, Unearth as a card is modern-legal and has some insane playability. It’s not a loop but it’s value, and it can swing in well, and it just gets bigger, and on and on and on. This card feels fun to play. It complicates the board, it complicates choices, and it just plain works. This is a Grixis love letter and a black love letter to boot. Good stuff all around. Very interesting card.

Runners and stuff soon! Be good.

@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #winners #condition contest #inventor's fair #commentary

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Finders Keepers

the long awaited (sorry!) zombie au. hope y’all enjoy

Seijoh 4 x female reader & Miya twins x female reader

TW Blood, gore, angst, um... toxic relationships?

“Let me see.”

It’s little more than a murmur, but in the quiet stillness of the night your voice carries. It hardly matters; Oikawa has you close, tucked under his arm with his injured leg stretched out between the two of you. He could stop you if he really wanted, but he only watches, those tired, wary eyes fixed on your face as you reach for his pants.

“It’s fine,” he grunts out, yet he can barely get the words out before he’s hissing through his teeth – a knee jerk reaction to the scrape of rough fabric against his wound. His fingers are digging painfully into your arm, and it doesn’t make a difference how gentle you try to be, how many stammered apologies fall from your lips, your fingers are stiff and clumsy and his pants are caked with dried blood and grime, hindering the process.

Pursing your lips, you glance up. “This would go easier if you took these off, you know.”

He cracks a smile at that, strained and tense, but your chest still flutters at the sight of it. “If you wanna get my pants off so badly, cutie, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tooru,” you begin, but he sighs heavily and that brief flicker of mirth glimmering in his eyes fades. Reaching over he picks up his hunting knife, pressing the handle into your palm and letting his fingers slowly curl around yours. The weight of it feels unwieldy and foreign in your hand, and you can’t quite say for sure if the way your breath picks up and hitches is due to your nerves or the way Oikawa’s watching you, his warm hand still wrapped around yours.

“Cut it, then.”

The knife helps, shearing through his pants like butter, but the wound itself is messy – torn threads plastered to congealed blood and dirt – and blunt fingernails sink into your skin and Oikawa grits out a curse when you try to gently ease them free.

It’s worse than you’d thought. A lot worse. Raked over his right knee, five gouges, jagged and gruesome, raw flesh and muscle exposed beneath. Your stomach roils at the sight of it, bile creeping up your throat, and for a moment you’re astounded by how calm he is, sitting there beside you.

If it were you, you’re fairly sure you’d be rolling on the ground howling by now, but the only hint of pain Oikawa’s face betrays is the tightness of his jaw, teeth clenched even as he looses a shuddering breath.

“I-I’ll go see if I can find something to…” to what? Clean the wound? Stitch it? You’re not an idiot, unless this little cottage has an incredibly well stocked first aid kit, you know you’re in trouble. And even if it does, beyond the very basics of clean, disinfect and bandage, you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to fix this.

Iwaizumi was always the one to stitch up their wounds, muttering obscenities under his breath and glaring at them the whole time. It was their own idiot faults for putting themselves in a position where they could get hurt in the first place, he’d say, they could deal with a little pain while he fixed them up. But as you stare at the grisly mess of Oikawa’s knee, there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this might be beyond even Iwa’s level of expertise.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Iwa isn’t here.

Makki and Mattsun aren’t either.

And strangely enough, it’s not the fear of the creatures lurking in the woods that’s gnawing at your gut. It’s Oikawa’s injury, the blood and mangled mess that you can’t even begin to fix, the thought of the trap that’s awaiting the others back at the sanctuary. It’s that feeling of helplessness that’s tightening around your neck like a noose.

“Hey,” Oikawa calls, snagging at your wrist when you try to pull away. “They’ll find us, have a little faith.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod. “I know.”

You don’t have the guts to tell him that that’s only half the problem.

Making do with vodka and some old bandages you’d scrounged up from a first aid kit under the sink, you do what you can for Tooru’s knee. Working by the light of a few flickering candles, your hands shaking like a leaf, it's a job easier said than done, and you can’t help but wince at every pained hiss and grunt that escapes him.

It’s a hack job, a bandaid over a gaping wound, but he thanks you for it anyway, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple as he drags you closer once more. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he murmurs, and the words hang heavy over the both of you; a promise and a sobering reminder in one.

Tucked up in his embrace, you shut your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

Yet the moment you do, you’re right back there again: the hallway doors bursting open and the undead pouring through. Rotting and snarling, the sound of panicked shrieks tearing through the sanctuary in their wake.

Tooru’s hand in yours, yanking you along as he ran. Your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you gasped for breath, your chest burning. And the fear, the horror that threatened to choke you as the others fell behind, their frantic pleas turning into agonised screams.

Everybody else first. The words spoken before any one of them left the safety of the sanctuary; you’d always assumed it was a grim kind of joke between the boys, a good luck charm. How many times had you heard Mattsun laugh it, clapping Iwa on the shoulder, or Makki for that matter, or Oikawa?

‘Come home safe’, you’d thought it meant, not ‘rip the guns out of other survivors’ hands and throw them back into the path of the oncoming undead’.

And then you’d stumbled, tripping over your own two feet. You remember Oikawa cursing, the pain that radiated up your knees and the palms of your hands as you hit the floor hard, and the absolute, bone chilling terror that surged through you when you looked up and saw one of the undead creatures lunge for you; jaw hanging loose, more ripped flesh and gristle than an actual mouth–

Oikawa was too far away, too slow, and even if he wasn’t, you’d just witnessed the lengths he’d go to for self preservation. You’d screamed for him anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and praying you’d go quickly when those fingers and yellowing teeth dug into your flesh and ripped you apart.

And in the space of a single petrified heartbeat, three shots had rung through the air, a warm wetness splattering against your cheek. Tooru was there, kicking the rotting corpse away from you and hauling you back to your feet, back safely against his side.

But the next one was quicker, leaping over the husk of its fallen friend, snarling and bloody and savage, and then it was Tooru who was screaming, undead fingers sinking into the flesh of his leg, ripping as it tried to claw him back.

Heart pounding viciously, your eyes shoot open in the darkness.

Even with the reassurance of Oikawa’s frame pressed up behind you, his breath warm against your skin, sleep doesn’t come easy, and the dawn brings little reprieve.

Stupidly, you’d hoped – prayed – that somehow through the night he might’ve gotten better. It was early in the morning when you’d felt him start to shiver against you. You’d tried to roll away, to give him space so you wouldn’t accidentally knock his leg, but Tooru was having none of it, burrowing in closer, his grip tightening.

And when you’d felt him start to sweat, his arms becoming sticky and clammy, his shirt dampening at your back, that slow, cloying sense of dread took root inside of your stomach.

Under the first rays of morning light, the true extent of Oikawa’s condition is unignorable. Without the luxury of being able to properly close the wound, blood’s seeped through the bandages overnight, leaving them a mottled, macabre red. His face is pale, a thin sheen of sweat dotting at his brow and with every shallow, rattling breath he takes, his body trembles.

It’s more than just simple blood loss.

You think for a moment that he’s unconscious, long lashes fanned out over flushed cheekbones, but the moment you reach for the bandages, his eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he rasps.

You frown, “Tooru–”

“No,” he says. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Between him and Iwaizumi, and to a certain extent, Makki and Mattsun, you’ve never had much of a say in how things are run. You’ve never questioned that they’re the ones in charge, Oikawa most of all. They’re the ones who’ve kept you safe, kept you alive all this time, and all they’ve ever asked of you is that you do what they say.

And you have. Always. Because without them, you’d be dead. You don’t have to pick up a gun and fight, because they do it for you. You don’t have to go on supply runs because they take care of it, they take care of you. And it’s never mattered whether it’s just been the five of you out there alone, or if you were banding together with other survivors; that’s never changed – no matter how many dirty looks it earned you from the others.

You are their responsibility, but in return, you do what they tell you without question.

But this–

This isn’t like that. This isn’t you begging Iwaizumi to take you with him on perimeter patrol because you’ve been cooped up for what feels like weeks, or pouting because they’re deliberately keeping things from you again.

And maybe they have kept you in the dark, but you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. The reality of this situation hasn’t escaped you.

The sanctuary’s overrun, and if – when – Iwa, Makki and Mattsun make it back, they’ll be walking into an ambush. Even if by some miracle they do manage to all make it out unscathed and somehow figure out a way to pick up your trail, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for them to find their way back to you.

(You can’t bear to think about the possibility of them not coming home; you won’t.)

Right now, it’s just you and Oikawa, stuck in some abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a rifle and a baseball bat between you. You have no food, no supplies and he’s getting weaker by the minute.

You’re terrified.

And you don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting somebody else take care of you anymore. You don’t stand a chance of survival without Oikawa, and right now he doesn’t stand a chance without you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head. “Okay, I won’t touch it, but I’m not just going to sit here and watch you get worse.” Smoothing your palms over your lap, you take a deep breath in through your nose. “There’s a prison–”

“No.”

“Tooru–”

“I said no,” he snaps.

Biting back a sigh, you try again, “Tooru, there might be supplies there,” you plead. “Painkillers, antibiotics, something that might help–”

“I don’t need antibiotics and you’re not leaving. We need to stay here where it’s safe until the others find us,” he grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Normally, this would be the point that you’d back off, running off to lick your wounds before he decided to get mean, but even as some part of you cowers at the mere thought of upsetting him, this time you don’t back down.

He watches warily as you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, gently smoothing damp brown locks back from his sweat slicked forehead. “I don’t know when Iwa’s coming back,” you murmur. “But until he does, the prison’s our best chance, if I can just–”

“No!” he snarls, cutting you off once again.

His eyes are manic now, blown wide and glazed over, he’s shivering, his breath a faint rattle – but his grip is iron, long fingers clutching at you desperately when you jerk back with a gasp.

“You don’t leave me.”

You don’t want to.

It’d be easy not to, to sit and stay with him and pretend that your world isn’t falling apart and he isn’t dying. You’ve never been a fighter, always too soft, too weak, too naive to survive out there on your own. The thought of setting one foot outside of that door without him by your side fills you with absolute terror, but what other options do you have?

He might not like it, but you’re out of time – this decision isn’t his to make anymore.

“Tooru, I-I have to, you know–”

“No!” he snaps, dragging you closer. “You’re not leaving me, I won’t fucking let you!”

Your hand trembles when you reach up to take his, easing it from your shirt and bringing it to your lips. Tears spill from your lashes, falling in heavy droplets against the back of his hand as Oikawa makes a pained sound.

“Please don’t go.”

You both know he can’t stop you.

“Keep the gun,” you tell him, mustering up a tight, watery smile. “Anything but Iwa and our boys comes through that door, shoot it.”

—

It seems a cruel, twisted joke that you find a perfectly good truck sitting a little ways up the driveway, just begging to be used – with no way of getting it started.

Mattsun always made hot wiring look so easy, tossing you a wink when the engine rumbled to life, as if it was a neat little party trick he’d pulled out just to impress you. He did it so quickly, so smoothly, ripping the wires out and sparking them like it was second nature, but he’d never bothered to actually explain what he was doing to you.

And why would he? Between the four of them, there’d always be somebody else to take care of it for you. It’s the same reason they never taught you how to shoot, never taught you how to fight beyond the very basics of self defence.

Now, trudging along the side of the barren road with nothing but your baseball bat and a canteen of water slung over your hip, you find yourself wishing you’d paid a little more attention. Ten miles hadn’t seemed that far on paper – it was less than the trek back into town and you’d figured a safer bet, but walking around in broad daylight without any kind of real protection feels like you’re begging to be preyed upon. Yet by some stroke of luck (and despite that persistent nagging sense that you’re being watched) you manage to make it to the perimeter gates without coming across another soul, dead or alive.

The towering brick walls topped with spirals of barbed wire that line the prison complex are as imposing as they are unbreachable, and for a moment, standing there staring up at them, you feel a crushing sense of disappointment. You’ve walked over two hours, left Tooru in pain and alone for nothing. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to scale those walls, and without any kind of bolt cutters or firepower, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past the front gates.

Iwa would’ve known that. Iwa would’ve been better prepared.

But as you draw closer to the guardhouse, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not a problem. The heavy wrought iron gate’s already unlocked and open, creaking in the breeze. And really, that should have been the first warning sign, but you’re too busy thanking your lucky stars as you slide on through to pay attention to things like that.

The courtyard is just as deserted. The crunch of gravel underfoot echoes too loud, setting your nerves on edge as you make your way towards the imposing structure. It’s quiet, eerily so – even the birds seem to have disappeared. Is this how all raids feel, you wonder as you climb the steps towards the door. This sense of foreboding dread that settles in your stomach, the goosebumps that prickle down your arms?

Your grip tightens around the handle of your bat and you press gingerly against the door – just like the guardhouse gate, it gives under your touch, swinging open wide. It’s dark inside; you hadn’t thought to bring a torch and with the absence of any windows lining the corridor it’s near pitch black. Your heart hammers inside your chest, every cell in your body screaming at you to turn around and run back to Tooru, but you’ve come this far already.

The undead flock to fresh, living meat. It’s been months since the outbreak began; anyone unfortunate enough to have found themselves trapped inside when it happened is probably long dead, and any of the undead likely long gone.

It’s just a little darkness.

Steeling your nerves you creep through the black, clutching tightly at your bat, toeing your way down the corridor waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim. Every breath you draw in feels too loud, every step too obnoxious. Deserted or not, the sooner you can find the med-bay, get what you need for Oikawa and get out, the better.

The layout’s simple enough – five looming multi-storied wings breaking off like fingers from the central watch-tower, but you don’t have a clue which one holds what you’re seeking. Your only option is to search them one by one and hope for the best.

You’d expected steel bars and heavy locks, but the prison reminds you strangely of a school instead; long hallways lined with doors, each with a tiny window to peek through. They’re all open now of course, whatever locking mechanism keeping them shut having failed when the generators ran out. The first few are empty, barren and stripped of everything but soiled mattresses – it should be a relief.

There’s nothing waiting for you in the darkness but empty halls and emptier rooms. If the others were here, they’d be teasing you for sure. Or Makki and Mattsun would, at least. You always were such a scared little baby – their scared little baby – you’d jump at your own shadow if you didn’t have them around.

And it’s easier to keep going imagining them there by your side, the jokes they’d crack, the warmth of Iwa’s hand in yours, or Makki’s arm slung over your shoulder. You’d feel safe with them. You wouldn’t need to feel afraid.

But no amount of pretend comfort is enough to allay the heavy sense of dread that’s sitting in your stomach, growing harder and harder to ignore with every passing minute. And the problem, you realise, with the prison being so deadly quiet is that every noise, no matter how quiet, echoes.

Climbing the stairs in the dark, you don’t notice the slickness on the walls either side of you, the red handprints smeared messily over white paint. You don’t see the broken, bloody fingernails littering the steps beneath you.

You hear it though, when you reach the landing. It’s soft. A quiet, wet squelching, ripping–

There’s no screams accompanying it like there were back when the sanctuary was overrun, but it’s not a sound you’re gonna be able to forget any time soon. In the dark you freeze, not daring to so much as breathe as you peer down the endless corridor, trying to pinpoint which of the cells it’s coming from.

In the end, you decide that it doesn’t matter.

They’re quicker when they’ve fed, stronger too, and there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to be able to fumble past in the dark without drawing that thing’s attention. The wooden bat in your hands feels heavy, your palms already slick with sweat. You weren’t quick enough back at the sanctuary; without Tooru, that thing would’ve eaten you. And suddenly it seems laughable that you came out here, that you genuinely thought you could handle this – fight one of them off if it came down to it.

Tooru needs those meds, you know that, and you might be useless and weak and absolutely paralysed with fear, but you’re not stupid. You can’t help him at all if you’re torn apart by one of those creatures.

Your pulse racing, a potent mix of adrenaline and sheer, unrelenting terror coursing through your veins, you draw in a quiet breath, slowly lifting your foot to back away. It hasn’t heard you yet, and so long as it’s distracted–

“Oi, hurry up! I know what I saw, she came in this way.”

“Jesus, just shut up for a sec, wouldja! Ya don’t need to keep yellin’ at me, I’m comin’!”

Through the grate at your feet, you see two beams of light break through the darkness, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps echoing down the wing. Icy claws tighten like a vice around your heart and you still once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen, praying…

The squelching’s stopped.

Grip tight around the handle of your bat, your entire body quaking with fear, you watch with wide, stricken eyes as one of the doors halfway down the block slowly creaks outwards.

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing, and you try and convince yourself it’s just the wind, that you’re imagining things and your mind is playing mean tricks on you–

A feral snarl rips through the air, and before you can so much as scream it’s crashing through the open doorway, head swivelling as it searches for the source of the disturbance. In the dark you can’t make out much, only that it’s huge, half its flesh torn and decaying, smeared with blood and filth – but you see it when those white, cloudy eyes fix on you, its rotting mouth bared and salivating.

And this time you do scream. You scream for Oikawa, for Iwa, for Makki and Mattsun and the faceless strangers on the floor below as you cast your bat aside and run. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you take the stairs two, three at a time, slipping and slamming into the stairwell wall, a sharp burst of pain radiating down your shoulder – you can hear it giving chase, the rabid growls and snarls too close for comfort.

Tears flood your eyes, your chest heaving with every desperate breath as your feet hit solid ground once more and you take off.

“Please!” you sob as you run, blinded by the brightness of the torch beam as it’s shone in your direction. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

You can’t outrun it forever. Even now, you hear it gaining on you, its hot, foul breath puffing against your back – it’s just like back at the sanctuary. It’s gonna catch you, rip into you and feast while you choke to death on your own blood and screams, and this time you won’t have Oikawa here to save you. You’re going to die in agony, torn apart and devoured, and it’s all your own stupid fault.

Your throat tightens, more tears springing free. You can’t see anything beyond those two blinding lights, moving now, dancing across the field of your vision. “PLEASE!” you shriek, desperate and hoarse as the undead creature behind you readies itself to pounce.

Please don’t leave me here to die.

And for one heart wrenching second, you think back to your boys, and the words they’d said before kissing you goodbye. Everybody else first. Maybe this is some kind of divine retribution, you think. Maybe when the world went to hell people became cold and selfish and you deserve this for sitting back and letting others die in your place.

“Get down!” the voice yells, and you don’t even stop to think before you drop, sliding across the floor. There’s another blinding flash, a shot fired into the dark and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hug your knees to your chest as the creature snarls in anger and jerks backwards, a gruesome spurt of blood spraying over you.

“Ya fucking missed! How could ya fucking miss?!”

The gun cocks and reloads, another deafening shot ringing out above you and you flinch, your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm–

But this time the bullet hits its mark. The creature crashes to the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t move again.

You don’t waste a second scrambling to your feet, launching yourself into the arms of your saviour. You don’t care that you’re crying, that you’re covered in blood and filth and god knows what else, you cling to him like he’s a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. And instead of pushing you away like he probably should, he lets out a short huff that sounds almost like a laugh, his arm curling around your waist.

“I’m the one who shot the damn thing,” the other mutters sourly.

The man holding you snorts, “Nah, yer the idiot who missed.” Belatedly, you realise that he’s still gripping his gun, the brightness you’d assumed to have come from a torch actually from a light mounted to the barrel. He slings the rifle carelessly over his shoulder, drawing back slightly to appraise you. “Now, wanna tell me what a sweet thing like you’s doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

With your eyes now adjusting to the light, you can see that the two of them can’t be much older than you. They’re both tall, broad shouldered and handsome, the same jawline, the same slope to their nose, nearly identical hooded eyes – brothers you decide, maybe even twins. And they’re both smirking at you, not with the relief of just barely escaping a brush with a particularly gruesome death, but with an odd sort of lackadaisical amusement, as if this – skulking through dark, abandoned places, killing the undead – is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

And from the ease with which they carry their weapons, maybe it isn’t.

Oikawa warned you about men like them. Men in general, really. Even the ones who smiled at you back at the sanctuary, the ones who offered to help you move heavy supplies when they saw you struggling – at least, until Iwa or one of the others stepped in with a poisonous glare. Anyone who wasn’t them was dangerous, a threat, just waiting in the wings to take advantage of a pretty, dumb little thing like you.

And maybe he’s right, but when the one holding you instead drags you closer, wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins to lead you back towards the guard tower as his brother falls into step on your other side, you don’t shrug him off.

Oikawa isn’t here, and they have just saved your life. That has to count for something, right?

“I-I thought it’d be safe,” you confess breathlessly, trying not to focus on the thumb sweeping over the curve of your shoulder. “Well, empty at least. I didn’t have a choice.” And they listen, sharing glances in the dark as you tell them about what’d happened at the sanctuary, about Oikawa and the desperation that’d led you to leave him and walk miles alone to try and find some kind of medicine–

Until a snicker interrupts you. “Sorry,” the blonde mutters, though he doesn’t look all that sincere when your eyes flash to his. “It’s just…”

“Anythin’ worth taking woulda been snatched up months ago,” the darker haired one interjects.

“There ain’t nothin’ here but the occasional idiot tryna set up camp an’… Well, ya saw how well that turned out.”

It hits you like a gut punch, forcing the air from your lungs in a harsh, gasping breath. There was never anything here, everything… all of it was a waste. You came all this way, left him feverish and screaming himself hoarse for you, risked your life, almost died and–

It was all for nothing.

Fresh tears sting at your eyes, they’re still talking but it’s just white noise washing over you. You don’t even realise they’re leading you back outside until you’re walking through the doors, the sudden burst of sunlight making you flinch. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

You’re an idiot.

A naive, dumb little girl who was stupid enough to think this half cocked plan was gonna work. That you would make it back to Tooru in one piece, medicine in hand to save the day and prove you weren’t the helpless damsel they’d pegged you for.

You’ve wasted so much time, for nothing.

There’s no drugs, no food, nothing that’s gonna help either one of you make it through the next few days and suddenly you’re drowning under a wave of hopelessness and bitter disappointment. You fall to your knees in the dirt, taking both your saviours by surprise, and let out a painful, heart wrenching sob. And once you start, you can’t seem to stop. It’s overwhelming, every emotion you’ve bottled up and shoved aside over the last two days suddenly forced into the light. You cry for yourself, for Tooru – for Iwa and Makki and Mattsun. You cry until it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, and then there’s rough calloused fingers brushing your tears away.

You look up through wet lashes to find the dark-haired man crouching before you, his expression sober. “Ya don’t need to cry, sweetheart, we’re not monsters y’know.”

His brother chuckles behind you, “We’re not about to leave some pretty little thing all alone out here to starve to death.” His hand’s resting atop your head now, smoothing down the hair at your crown. It’s soft and soothing, and you’re so attuned to seeking comfort that you can’t help but lean into it, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “We’ve got some friends nearby, a nice little hideaway stocked full of all kinds of shit. Everything ya could possibly need.”

“Y-you mean it?” you ask, wide eyes flickering to the dark haired one, who smiles at last. “You’ll share them with me?”

“‘Course we do. Meds, food, weapons. Whatever ya want, it’s yours.”

You take the hand he offers to help you stand, your limbs trembling once more – but this time it’s not from fear or exhaustion, but the overwhelming rush of sheer relief. You could kiss him, kiss them both, but you don’t.

Instead you settle for throwing your arms around them once more, breathless thanks falling from your lips faster than they can catch as you hug them tight. They don’t seem to mind though, sharing almost identical smirks as the three of you head out to an old, beat up camaro parked out by the entrance to the prison. While the blonde slides in the driver’s seat and his brother takes the passenger’s side, you climb up into the back seat.

“Is it far?” you ask as he kicks the car into gear and peels out onto the deserted road. Hopefully it’s not, the sooner you can get back to help Tooru the better.

“Nah, not too far. We’ll be home before ya know it.”

Of course, they’re driving you to their friends, but they haven’t promised anything about driving you back to the cottage and Oikawa–

Which is perfectly fine! You’re not going to push your luck, they’re already doing plenty for you. More than they really have to. You don’t even need that much – just some medicine for Tooru and enough food for the two of you to get through the next few days, and you’ll be fine. Whatever you can carry, which, admittedly isn’t much. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it back to him before nightfall.

Things are gonna be fine. You’ll bring the medicine and once he’s better, the two you can head out to find the others. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll be better when you’re all back together, the way things were meant to be.

You need them, if anything this little venture’s proven that much at least.

They’d promised that it wasn’t far, and maybe it’s just the exhaustion of the last few days creeping in, or the gentle hum of the engine as the car drives along the long, narrow stretch of road, but your eyelids start to droop, your breath evening out as sleep beckons.

And you’re just dancing on the edge of consciousness when a hushed voice breaks through the comfortable silence, dark eyes flickering up to watch your slumbering form in the rearview mirror. “Ya think Kita’ll be pissed?”

There’s a snort, “Nah. He’s always had a soft spot for strays, ‘specially the pretty ones.” He’s quiet for a moment, almost contemplative before he opens his mouth to add, “‘Sides, we’re gonna take real good care of her, ain’t we, Samu?”

The only reply he gives is a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere matsukawa x reader #yandere hanamaki x reader #tw blood #tw gore #angst #toxic relationships #i honestly do not know how to tag this #at this point it's practically sfw #if you ignore all the blood and injuries and zombie stuff

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animefreak1145 · 3 years

Text

The Brilliance of Break On Through

Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War Mission Break on Through—An Analysis

I have replayed the campaign of COD:BOCW numerous times—too many times truly. Did a whole playthrough where it was Hardened and soon I’m sure I shall do Veteran(something I have never done for any COD game. Not even Hardened.).

All missions have their own unique qualities—parts where the player gets a little rush of adrenaline depending on the kind of mission and how they choose to play it (Nowhere Left to Run just a plain shooting match while Brick in the Wall you can choose to remain stealthy like the good spy you are or go crazy like an eager homicidal maniac).

Even within the safehouse, there are plenty of little details to discover if you take the time to look around and observe everyone. Or, everything. (The radio if turned to a Russian station/correspondence, Adler changes it back immediately before Da Nang mission. Watching Park’s body language, as you talk to Adler and she periodically looks over to you two. Adler suspicious when you go to the Red Room or the locked room with the arcade. The T.V. being turned on in the Red Room)

But the amount of details, details, in the mission Break on Through is outstanding. I have played this mission more than any other due to me wishing to look at all the details. There’s so many, I think I may miss some. And I can’t show them off all to you cause I suck at creating gifs and don’t know how to transfer that from Xbox to my phone.

To lighten it up a bit, I won’t focus on the four different scenarios you go through—at least not each one. That would take too long and I do not have gifs/pics to show it off since Tumblr limits it to ten anyways.

I will, however, try to guide to what parts of the game you all can explore if you choose to do so. As well just how detailed they did this mission.

I am going to start with the different statements Adler says to you throughout all the Scenarios(17, 6, 11, 1). We only go through four in the actual game—but the fact it goes up to 17 or possibly more shows just how far they went in and messed with Bell’s mind.

Now, Adler seems to be a bit bipolar on how he talks to you whether or not you listen to him and all his directions. Either totally blasé and cold to giving you and pumping you up with more MK or meds, or actually a tad concerned and patient as he guides you through.

If You/Bell Stands Still/Does Nothing:

Example 1

“So you did nothing? What were you, in shock?”

He throws the words callously, mocking. As if Bell isn’t confused and lost at what is going on. He even sounds irritated that you might actually be in shock due to these memories that are just fake—not even real. Not like what he has.

Example 2

“What’s wrong with Bell?” -Adler

“I’m not sure. . .” -Park

“I guess we’ll just wait on you to proceed, Bell.”

The contrast is dizzying. He sounds concerned when he asks Park on what could be wrong with you. If he pushed you too far and now you’re just frozen. And, instead of rushing you due to how the fate of half of Europe is at stake, he decides to give you space. Just wait for you and you’ll come out of it soon enough.

He does these sort of reactions numerous times. Jumping from intimidating to the Adler we knew as the player, as Bell—kind and always in your corner that believes in you. He switches tactics based on what he believes will work really—or he just felt really on edge at times and threw the farce that you two were friends out the window.

Other examples include:

Scenario 11–Napalm Strike-in the lab in the room where you were brainwashed

“Christ, what’s happening with them?”-Adler

“A mild seizure. Sims, past me a benzodiazepine.” -Park

Again, concerned. Worried. Almost…at unease?

In the lab—tripped up on drugs. If you run through the tight shrinking hallway back and forth like so(I suck at making gifs, I’m sorry):

“Why is Bell repeating themselves?”

“Bell, stop speaking in circles.”

Now, as others may have suspected, Bell is talking to everyone as they’re stuck in this horrible loop of mental torture. Most likely muttering, hands clenching and arms pulling against the straps of the gurney, moving their head back and forth depending on what they’re seeing. I always saw Bell as muttering quickly in Russian as they go through all of this—their mother tongue where it may comfort them as they’re panicking and speaking to Adler.

It’s just a nice detail showcasing how exactly Adler knows that Bell is on script—Bell saying what they’re seeing and doing and what’s going on. It shows also just how hard they put Bell through the ringer(badum tss. I’ll leave now).

All the details too when the game shows how the drugs they put in Bell affects you. Like so. The hallways appearing long. The lights looking yellow. You feel so fast—look how quick you can run. Run towards the Red Door that Adler so desperately wants and maybe this can stop. Ah, why is it running away from you? What’s going on?

I don’t know about you, but I was so lost and confused at what was going on my first playthrough. For the majority of this mission, the possibility of me being brainwashed didn’t reach the BACK of my mind till probably I actually saw the flashes of scenes about Vietnam and calling Bell a subject. So like right here.

I personally thought that I had a repressed memory or something due to me going through the Vietnam War. That whatever I saw with Perseus, I—or rather Bell—repressed it from our mind due to how violent or horrible what we saw or experienced was. And that Adler suspected and just really wanted to know about it.

I didn’t expect for the man to actually brainwash my character—us—Bell! The game made Adler your mentor, who always defended you from Hudson and believed in your skills very highly. How he and Bell were basically perfect partners when the two of you were together.

It’s amazing—cause I think that’s what the developers were going for. The absolute trust. The loyalty. The denial that ‘maybe Adler is being a little harsh but hey, this is to help Perseus so it’s okay?’ It’s perfect. Because I’m sure that is what Bell actually felt in real time.

Yet, if you go through the total rebellious choice of not listening to Adler, some thing’s make sense. The Rebellious Side shows you way more than if you just listen to Adler like a Dutiful Soldier.

You go through this room if you choose the rebellious route, the T.V.’s automatically turning on the closer you get. Of Vietnam. And now, all those T.V.‘s that turned on by themselves(the Red Room, Lubyanka, Cuba) make sense. You were actually being brainwashed. Poor Bell probably can’t ever have a turned off/broken T.V. again. The trauma.

Said trauma being shown multiple times too. Not just the T.V.‘s. But the absolute terror that Bell felt, before they became Bell, with Adler.

Like do you see this? This terrified me when I saw it at the end of the hallway. I just saw a red shadow in the distance and I legit thought I was about to be chased. Call of Duty became a horror game(I also went through the door to the ground too my first playthrough, so before this I went through zombies and I think my heart was going to jump out my chest) I thought. I didn’t want to get closer. I had to, with each step I see that it’s not a shadow but a body. And than I see the familiar jacket, the sound of whirring in my ears and see it’s Adler’s head being twisted back and forth, side to side, up and down, in a speed that in inhumanely possible.

Makes one wonder if Bell themselves sees Adler as inhumane. Not human. Adler seeming to just be a god in their head. All the Adler shaped rocks/boulders you go through and see. Even one point the V.C. becoming Adler and you killing him over and over and dead bodies of Adler being everywhere.

The man has entered Bell’s head and won’t leave. Just like Adler won’t leave Bell alone.

Heck, there’s one point in my playthroughs of this mission I was by the bridge yet there were parts of the lab by it. I jumped towards it, noticing down below there were different floors of the lab that eventually reach the ground. I jumped to reach the next floor and missed and I died.

And Adler mocked Bell committing suicide.

That was the kicker really that Adler truly is indifferent towards Bell. Like complete disregard. I know it’s fake. We know it’s fake. Adler knows it’s fake—but to Bell, it felt real. That’s the crazy part. All of this—this whole sequence feels real to Bell so each time they die they actually feel it. It’s insane. It’s cruel.

But we all know that Adler isn’t known for his kindness. Still like his character though, he’s layered.

I don’t have the exact quote he said, didn’t wrote it down like the others. I was shook he said it at all.

Moving on to the final details I’m going to talk about.

When you go through the room, I believe this comes out for both rebellious and dutiful, really depends. You see it filled with post it notes, articles, plans, and newspapers. And you see once more just how Bell has been scarred.

I don’t know Russian or German, but I imagine the notes are similar to what the English one’s say. If I’m wrong, please point it out.

There’s also post it notes which I believe is in code as well due to all the numbers—I’m not sure what those could mean since I am no decoding expert.

Poor poor Bell. And with all these pictures and plans—of Adler included—it begs the question that Bell may have been warned about the famous America’s Monster beforehand. Had to have—since Adler is basically Perseus’s adversary due to how stubborn the American man could be. It just adds more to the story, despite Cold War having quite a short campaign, they made it up somewhat with all these details everywhere.

When you finally and actually reach the room.

As you grow closer to the table, to your chair in the conference room while everyone else seems to have their own spots, there’s something I noticed.

There’s glasses. As well as a hat. And it’s Bell’s. Or at least, it used to be. Why else is it on their side of the table? By their chair? I believe it might be reading glasses due to all the decryptions Bell does, whether on paper or through a computer, it’s hard on the eyes. (I’m sure I’m not the only one who noticed this. For look at @second-vtoroy ‘s Bell)

I believe through the brainwashing, Bell might not need glasses anymore. After all, apparently they were a smoker like Adler before too but they took that out of you. What else they changed of Bell? It makes one wonder how far they truly went into molding a person.

Which just adds onto how mind boggling this mission is—this game is. This is my favorite COD game, despite how short it is. The details and choices and interactions with everyone and able to create your own character(albeit it’s very standard and not specific but it’s good enough for me) is AMAZING. I’ve always been a sucker for RPG’s and able to get that even a little in a COD game? Truly wonderful.

I couldn’t touch on everything because it would’ve gotten long, but the fun of the Break on Through mission never gets old. It’s genius multiple ways you can do it. All the details. The feelings you feel as a player as you go through it.

They truly did a unique job with this and I hope they continue with this type of game storytelling. Hopefully longer as well.

Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this rant basically!

Gifs made by me and used the video down below to help.

https://youtu.be/t6QkmkGGHSQ

youtube

#russell adler #call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #call of duty cold war #cod cold war #cod bell #cod analysis #cod:bocw #call of duty analysis #bell call of duty #Adler and Bell #Cold War

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raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka · 3 years

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Why Daenerys Should've Stayed Longer in the North Than Attack Cersei Too Soon (Which is a dick move, really) PART 1

I have said this before and I will say it again, D&D f*cked up Season 8. Honestly, there were a lot of missed opportunities with regards to plotlines. And don't even get me started on why they boycotted the Reeds, that's another story.

Also, we're gonna be talking about the possible strategies against an invasion army that has actual people in it, not ice zombies with super-speed and pyrophobia. We're way past that. The stabbiest of the Starks had already defeated Ice Darth Maul, so let's move on.

Anyway, I still think that Dany should've stayed in the North. Not permanently though, just until she has enough allies and armies to scare the living daylights out of Cersei's ass. And here's why:

WINTERFELL IS IN A STRATEGIC LOCATION.

Defense. In Max Brooks' The Zombie Survival Guide, Winterfell falls under the fortress category under the types of defense. Technically, it's a castle rather than a fortress. It is an impregnable structure with all the facilities to supply probably the whole population of the North. It has a greenhouse to grow food, which is appropriate for Westeros' long winters. According to Ned Stark, the castle can withstand a siege with only 500 men manning it against an army of 10,000. Plus, Dany's remaining dragons could easily barbecue an invading army what she did with the Lannister army in the Reach after defeating the Tyrells and taking Highgarden.

Here's a map of the North for reference: (You can pretty much see where Winterfell is, right?)

Source: awoiaf.westeros.org

Terrain. Winterfell is easily accessible since its location is in the heart of the North both literally and figuratively. It has its advantages as well. The North is the largest of Westeros' 7 Kingdoms. It is vast (it takes weeks to travel from the Neck to Winterfell, wtf?!). With regards to Sun Tzu's Art of War, Winterfell's strategic location can easily spot an approaching enemy, and if they come unprepared, its forces can easily defeat them. Thus, a Southron army wouldn't know how to navigate the lands they're not familiar with (let alone get into the North itself and past its defenses, but that'll be discussed later). Let's take into account Stannis Baratheon's failed siege on Winterfell, and how easily Ramsay Bolton's army defeated them down to the last man.

Climate. The North, in general, has a cold and temperate climate. They even get snowfalls in the summer. A Southron army wouldn't be accustomed to its climate, let alone the dangers of the wolves that roam the kingdom. Plus, if they run out of supplies, like food, there aren't many crops because most of its lands are barren due to the cold and snow. (So yeah, good luck with that!)

So yeah, Daenerys is technically at a place where it's appropriate to say:

AN ASSAULT BY LAND IS A DEATH SENTENCE.

The Riverlands. If Cersei orders her army to march North, they would have to pass the Riverlands. Like literally, here's a map:

Blue lines are the borders of the Riverlands, while the Red line is the Kingsroad. (Source: pinterest.com)

And everyone pretty sure remembers that the Great House or the Overlords of the Riverlands are the Tullys of Riverrun.

Now, this is where it gets interesting. The remaining Starks in Winterfell namely, Sansa, Arya, and Bran, have Tully blood through their mother, Catelyn. So technically, because of their family ties, they're likely already allies.

Debts of Gratitude. With Arya massacring the Freys of the Crossing, she had supposedly freed her uncle, Catelyn's brother, Edmure Tully from their grasp. Now, I don't know how that scene would've gone, (because D&D decided to focus on other things), but it would go something like: Hi Uncle! I killed the Freys, you're free now. Go back to Riverrun, call your banners or something and tell them you're back!

Edmure to his bannermen:

Because of that, I think Edmure would have this huge debt of gratitude towards his sister's children. And with the Tully words being family, duty, honor, Edmure wouldn't hesitate to gather an army. So if the Starks go, Hey, Uncle! Cersei is harassing us, send help!

Edmure's response would be:

The Vale of Arryn. I think the Vale would've joined the Starks as well, the same way they aided Jon Snow in the Battle of the Bastards. Because again, they have family ties. The current lord of the Vale is Robin Arryn, and his mother, Lysa Arryn, was of the Tully family-she was Catelyn and Edmure's sister. With the Starks killing that annoyimg smooth-talker, Littlefinger, they had basically saved Robin from his manipulating ways. With Yohn Royce as the witness on Littlefinger's trial, he would eventually tell Robin the truth about who really killed his mother. So if the Starks will ask for his help to join their cause, Robin will very much likely help his cousins.

So once they march up North, Edmure with the Tully and Vale Armies will be waiting at the Trident.

SWAMPS + CRANNOGMEN + MOAT CAILIN = IT'S A TRAP!

The Neck. Let's face it, if Cersei's army managed to get past the Rivermen and Valemen, there's no way they'll get past the Neck. This southernmost region in the North is known for its swampy terrain, with lizard-lions (basically crocodiles/alligators) lurking in the murky waters.

Here's a map of the Neck for reference:

The Green areas are the swamps, the Red line is the Kingsroad, while the Yellow line passing through the Green area is the Causeway. (Source: awoiaf.westeros.org)

The Crannogmen. Call them what you will, frog-eaters (yes, they do eat frogs), mudmen, bog-devils, but you must never underestimate the swamp people because you'll never know what'll hit you. They are called such because of their habit of living in small villages formed from reeds and thatches and that sit atop floating islands. And despite their short stature, the Crannogmen are talented hunters and warriors. Thus, they have adapted to the harsh environment and have learned to use it to their advantage.They use guerilla tactics and apparently a notoriously difficult people to conquer. In other words, they are the perfect example of the small but terrible type of people. The Crannogmen are ruled by House Reed with its current lord, who is none other Ned Stark’s bff, Howland Reed, a.k.a. Meera, and Jojen’s Dad, who holds court in their floating castle (yes, you read that right. A castle that floats.), Greywater Watch. Yep, the one who delivered the fatal blow to Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning was a f*cking Crannogman, this guy:

Since Ned’s children (Bran and Rickon) and Howland’s children (Meera and Jojen) are also good friends, there’s no doubt that they’ll definitely back them up when they have to. The Reeds are their bannermen after all. Though I think Meera would have to push Bran out of his chair to get even, but still.

The Causeway. The only road that connects the North to the other kingdoms is the Kingsroad. The causeway is the only dry road, the only navigable passage, and the only safe route for armies to travel through the swamps of the Neck. (Refer back to the map) It is also narrow. In the Art of War, narrow passes can be used to your advantage. With the Crannogmen familiar with the terrain, all they have to do is garrison it and wait. You can imagine being ambushed by short people hiding in the trees with poison darts or step on the traps they placed on the road and drag the horses and men into the murky waters to be eaten by the lizard-lions. If they have steel armor on, they’d have lower chances of survival. They might not get eaten, but they’d drown, so yeah, good luck!

Moat Cailin. Still, if they get past the wrath of the Crannogmen, they’ll meet their end at Moat Cailin. These ruins of an ancient stronghold command the Causeway as it passes through it. So anyone who travels North by land has to go through the causeway and Moat Cailin. It is an effective natural chokepoint that had protected the North from southern invaders for thousands of years. Its three remaining towers are usually manned with bowmen who’s ready to shoot a rain of arrows to enemies who will dare pass. And with the Starks back at Winterfell, it is most likely garrisoned by the Crannogmen.

A Southron army would have no chance at all and would never get past the Neck, thanks to the small but terrible and lovable crannogmen of the swamps. Also, only two women were known to ever kill a White Walker and one of them lives in the Neck.

I’d watch out for her too. Shout out to our girl, Meera Reed! Because all she got from Bran was a lousy thank you after she dragged his Stark ass across the frozen tundra.

That's it for Part 1, you guys. This turned out to be longer than expected. The link for Part 2 is here.

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jiminstonic · 3 years

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Apothic | pjm

pairing: yandere!zombie!jimin + g/n reader

word count: 6.1k+

genre: thriller, fluff(?), mild angst

warnings: GORE, violence, puking, obsessive thoughts, death, zombie cannibalism, is it necrophilia when it’s a zombie?? (sorry if i forgot anything)

— synopsis: Ever since the apocalypse hit, it’s been kill or be killed. So, what are you to do when a ghoul would kill for you instead of kill you?

Fuck, no more canned ravioli. Chef Boyardee will be dearly missed.

You crack a smile at your own thoughts while scanning the supermarket aisle, a flickering fluorescent overhead. Dirt and various food wrappers litter the tiled floor that you tiptoe on with sock-covered feet, shoes in hand in order to make as little sound as possible. You’ve yet to see a ghoul in this supermarket, but better to be safe than sorry.

With every item you stuff in your bag, a small sigh of relief passes through your lips. Going nomad helps a lot with your need to be alone, but also comes with many cons. Sitting at the very top of the list is being cautious. If ambushed by a group of ghouls, you must find a way out all on your own. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. But you’re not stupid enough to be noisy, whether you’re really alone or not.

Maybe you’ll get a box of cereal this time. You just hope it won’t make too much noise while in your bag.

You make the round of a few more aisles, grabbing a new toothbrush and a few pens. Some rash cream too maybe, just in case. You start to mindlessly grab items that you might need until you end up in the candy aisle.

Gummy bears. It’s the first thing to grab your attention, better with the nearly vacant shelves, and you refuse to leave without it.

Carefully, you pinch the corner of the bag, gently pulling it from the rack it hangs on. It’s a slow process, and you’re on the verge of regretting it as a scraping starts to sound when you continue to tug. Finally, the rack comes to an end and the bag slips off with no more than a split second of a crinkle. That’s when you decide that you have enough for today’s supply, not wanting to risk much more than that. With a swift spin, you turn to head out, one socked-up foot in front of the other when you’re stopped dead in your tracks.

Right at the other end of the aisle, stands a ghoul. It’s as still as a statue, save for the twitch in its fingers.

The sight makes your heart drop and the bag of gummy bears slip from your grasp. The sound that emits when it hits the floor makes the ghoul jump, oddly enough, but it still doesn’t make a single move. It just stands there, watching you.

That’s when you finally snap out of it, stumbling backward and running as fast as you can to the back exit. Even with the machete strapped to your side, you like to avoid having to kill them because, once again, noise. It’s always noise. The same thing that caused a headache for you once upon a time, but is now sometimes caused by the lack thereof.

You can’t care enough to try slipping on your shoes, too busy running for your life down the road. Rocks jab at the bottom of your feet, but you can only tighten your jaw and force yourself to bear it. A bite hurts a lot worse, you remind yourself.

The entire road is bare, same as when you came and is the reason why you even went into the supermarket. No ghouls around. ‘Clear skies’, as you like to call it. So, why was it just that one ghoul there? And how did you not notice it before?

Your pants come out in a near wheeze as you push yourself through the heavy door. Once it’s shut behind you, you fall back onto it and slide down to the floor. The thick air of the high school locker room suddenly doesn’t seem so bad when you’re gasping for breath.

With one last deep breath, you push yourself up with a huff. You sling the bag from off of your shoulder and let it drop to the ground, not very worried about its contents. With a tug on the strap around your torso, the velcro pulls apart and you place it on a metal table sticking from the brick wall, the machete only making a small thud.

Your mattress is in the deeper corner of the locker room with the rest of your stuff. The lockers in that spot hold more than you should probably keep, but you’re not very worried about anyone raiding the place. As far as you know, this town is abandoned.

Your feet drag across the tile as you make your way toward the showers, flicking on every one of the battery operated fans as you pass by. You don’t know how or why, but there’s still running water coming into the locker room. You’ve always tried not to question it, afraid of jinxing it just for the water not to work anymore. And you’re worried for when winter comes, since the water can only run cold. But you’re grateful for it. There’s no way you can’t be.

Usually, you’d pick a cd out of your stash to put into the battery operated player, but you don’t want to waste any time in washing off the sweat that sticks to your skin. With your clothes thrown to the floor at your feet, you turn the nozzle and immediately feel the cool water rush against your skin. You’re quick to grab the bar of soap, one of the many you’ve made sure to collect, and rub it against your skin.

You wake up randomly, not bothering to sit up and separate yourself from the warmth of the blanket, even if it is just a fireproof blanket. But the grumble of your stomach forces you to change your mind. Eating something before crashing on the mattress would’ve been a smart decision.

With a kick, you fling the blanket from your body, setting your feet onto the floor. As you stand, the faint breeze from the fans hit you, waking you further. You rummage through the lockers containing food, not being able to see much of anything—it’s still dark out. The moon is high in the inky sky, a tell-tale sign of the night’s peak. It casts its glowing rays through the high windows to beam down in sections on the tile.

Your hand finds a pack of crackers that you settle for; it’s only a late night snack anyways. Shutting the locker door, you practically jump out of your skin at seeing the dark figure that stands there. A shriek escapes you, feeling your heart drop far into your chest as you drop the crackers in favor of clumsily shuffling backward into the corner of the lockers. You can’t afford to take your eyes off of the figure if they’re here to hurt you, take everything you have left.

You can’t even see their face yet, the moonlight only illuminating their torso. Looking at what you’re able to actually see, you notice that they’re holding a bag, quickly recognizing the gummy bear logo. Your brow shoots up in question.

It isn’t until you shift your eyes back to their shadowed face that you realize they’re getting closer, the moonlight racing up their body. You push yourself further into the lockers pressed against your back, not thinking it was even possible to be any closer. Your breaths come out quicker, nostrils flaring as you begin to panic with every step the stranger makes toward you. Looking past them, you catch sight of your machete that sits on the table, useless on the other side of the room.

Maybe you can side step them, make a narrow escape and grab the weapon, impaling them with it before they can blink twice.

But that plan bursts into flames as you feel their presence just inches from you. They’re eerily quiet, not even the sound of breathing could be heard from them, only you. You slowly look at their face, the moonlight finally bringing it to light, and you panic further upon the sight.

They’re a ghoul. The ghoul. It’s the same one that you ran from earlier today in the store. It’s pale and delicate face, devoid of life and showcasing veins here and there, is surprisingly unscathed. It-...he must’ve been a gorgeous man when he was alive. His blue-ish violet lips stand out the most, especially with the dried blood that stains them. His eyes are the most unique you’ve seen for a ghoul. Usually, a ghoul’s irises were clouded over in a deathly white mist, but he only has one eye like that. The other is perfectly normal, it’s deep brown holding a single sparkle from the light. It’s captivating, to say the least.

Not once has his eyes drifted from you, and it’s starting to make you worry even more. You can already feel the sting of an impending bite everywhere he looked on your skin. It was torture, and he kept getting closer and closer, making you shut your eyes in fearful expectation. Yet, a bite never came. He didn’t fiercely tear away at your flesh with his teeth, making you his late night snack just as you were fearing. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Instead of a painful bite, you felt cold skin pressed against your chest. It has you feeling your own rapid heartbeat against your rib cage. Slowly, you open your eyes to look down, only to see him leaning his forehead against your chest. You’re beyond confused, but you don’t push him away in fear that it may trigger him to actually kill you. And so, you stay impossibly still as he has his...moment?

You watch as he slowly moves his head, the tip of his nose brushing against your skin until you feel his slightly parted lips do the same. He stays there with the tip of his nose and lips lightly touching you, right over your pounding heart. You have no idea what he might be thinking—if he can think. If there’s more to ghouls than what people know, then you are just as clueless.

Suddenly, you feel—as well as hear—him take a deep inhale. It makes you clench your fists that are pressed against the lockers since you’re still too afraid to squirm away from him. His exhale comes out as a small, soft whine, almost as if he were in pain, but still content. You’ve never heard anything so smooth and airy come from a ghoul before, most of them wasting what’s left of their voice boxes by incoherently yelling. He presses his free hand rather harshly against the locker next to your side, emitting a bang that has you flinching. With the same arm, he pushes himself upright to meet your eyes. Once again, he lets out a soft hum while you keep eye contact, and if he were still alive, you would’ve melted at the sweet sound.

It’s not until you feel a nudge at your hip that you look down, seeing him pushing the bag of gummy bears toward you. Hesitant, you glance back up at him, gauging his intentions only to be met with the same stare. He was waiting, wanting you to take it. So you did. With a shaking hand, you take the bag from him, and his arm immediately falls limp at his side as if he were carrying a large weight this entire time.

As he steps back, you take the only chance you have and run past him while dropping the bag, the machete being your only priority. You grab it, spinning around with it already raised high in the air and pointing at the ghoul, ready to bring it down into his chest. But you stop halfway, the sight in front of you completely catching you off guard. His eyes are wide, scared even, hands held in front of him to shield himself from your attack. They shake with the effort he puts into holding them up, and you slowly start to break at the dawning realization. Your grip on the weapon’s handle immediately disappears, the blade dropping to the floor with a resounding clang.

“What am I even doing?” You whisper, appalled by the aggression you didn’t think twice about. That’s not like you, it never was like you. Even if the one standing in front of you is a being that can rip your flesh and devour your organs in an instant, you were still disgusted with yourself.

Sure, his actions were confusing and you’ve never seen a ghoul act so...human. But that definitely doesn’t mean you should put a blade in his skull without a second thought, all because he confused you.

On the other hand, you’ve lived with the apocalypse for half of your lifetime, only ever knowing to kill or be killed. There weren’t many times you had to kill a ghoul, but when you did, there was never the satisfaction that others talked about after taking one down. You never felt victorious or powerful. Only guilty and despondent. Even if it was their fate, a fate that could’ve never been reversed.

So you stand there, tears blurring your vision as you’re unable to meet the eyes of the ghoul in front of you. All of your thoughts are like knives spearing your heart, and you’re unable to focus on anything else around you. Shutting your eyes, the tears flow freely as a sob erupts from you. Maybe this has been building up for weeks, months even. Leaving your makeshift family to go nomad, adjusting to being on your own, jumping from place to place, and never knowing where is truly safe. It was all piled up stress, and this was the peak of it, your breaking point.

Lost in those thoughts, the sudden feel of lips on your cheek make you still and blink until your vision was no longer blurred. He was kissing your tears. You can feel how the ghoul’s lips were pressed ever so gently on the salty trail, and it only made you feel worse to know that he was trying to comfort you only seconds after you tried to end his afterlife.

“I’m so sorry... I don’t deserve that...” Placing your hands against the ghoul’s cold chest, you softly push him away and make a beeline for the mattress. You were no longer worried about the possibility of him eating you alive—he would’ve done that already. He would’ve done it instead of giving you the gummy bears you had wanted today, instead of kissing your tears away. What a complex, lovely ghoul.

You curl yourself into a ball once wrapped up in the blanket and lay with your back towards him, not yet having the heart to face him any longer.

As for the ghoul, he never thought he could once again feel his motionless heart constrict so much. The sight of your tears made an indescribable feeling dwell within him.

He sits on the ground, leaning back against the lockers as he watches your balled up form. Oh, how he wants to hold you right now, feel you in his arms, even if they are still weak.

When he stumbled upon you today, he knew he had to have you. You were glowing under the flickering fluorescents and he swore he felt butterflies. But he was a coward, standing there as you sped off in fear, slipping through his fingers. For that split second, he had forgotten what he really is. How foolish.

He doesn’t remember what exactly happened to him; all he knows is that he slowly turned into what he is now. He can’t quite recall his own name, although he knows for a fact that it starts with a J. He also knows for a fact that he is /not/ like all of the other ghouls. Yet, they all limp alongside him as if they see nothing wrong, because they can’t. He’s positive that maggots have eaten half of their brains already with the way they have no communication whatsoever, or sense of direction and coordination. Unless they’re after food, then it’s a one-track mind.

And he can’t lie, he’s done his fair share of flesh chewing, but he’s only ever felt as if he was going through the motions. It wasn’t as important to him as it was to the rest of the walking dead. He’s never tried talking, so he must’ve lost his voice from never using it, which explains why he had such a hard time speaking to you. That, and his body that never really decomposed, leaving him on the fence of death. He had tried so hard to tell you something, anything, but it just didn’t work out in his favor.

You also smell amazing. Your lingering scent was what led him to you, after all. If it wasn’t for the way you caught his attention, he might’ve taken a few bites of you. No doubt the urge is still there, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. He could never.

He can still feel the vibrations of your heartbeat, it’s calming sound that put him at ease. His lips still tingle with the warmth of your skin. Sure, it was a bold move on his part, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. He’d do it over and over again. Even if you ended up nearly bashing his head in for a second time.

His mind was running wild with the visions of you, your warmth that is so close now, yet still so far away. But his serenity was interrupted as a bang resounded. His head snapped in the direction it came from, sadly taking his eyes off of your now sleeping form. You must’ve cried yourself to sleep, he muses, wishing you would’ve used his shoulder to let out your pain.

He’s met with the darkness of the rest of the locker room, silence returning, but he can’t take any chances. Shakily, he pushes himself up, trying to take on a protective stance and shielding you with his body, but ultimately failing when his spine slacks under his own weight. The damn zombie body, he internally curses.

With dragging feet, he makes his way around the corner, only to be met with the silhouette of a ghoul standing in the doorway that he broke off himself in order to get to you. He must’ve been so consumed with tracking you down that he missed any sign of other ghouls around. Oh, how distracting you are to him.

It was obvious that the other can smell you, trying to make its way toward where you sleep while foolishly ignoring him. Without hesitation, he snarls, lunging at the intruding ghoul. There’s no way he’s letting it get anywhere near you. Not without ripping it to unidentifiable pieces, anyways. The anger quickly boiling up within gives him the strength to knock down the ghoul, letting the thought of you push him further, far beyond self-control.

You woke up slower than usual, the weight of the night before still heavy on your chest. He was on your mind right when your eyes opened to the morning light beaming into the locker room. Your dreams were even plagued with him—dreams that are rather compromising to have with a ghoul. You aren’t even sure if you really want to remember it. And it’s sad to say, but you didn’t feel so lonely.

Looking over to the lockers, you find the spot empty of his presence, making you jump up from the mattress. He couldn’t have just up and left, not after last night.

You nearly laugh at your own thoughts. Who are you to act that way toward a ghoul? It isn’t as if you slept with him. Not in reality, anyways; his little moment last night must’ve really gotten to you. It all makes your brow furrow, not understanding your own mind and feelings.

You walk around the corner of the lockers, picking up a foul stench that makes you immediately cover your nose and mouth. Whatever it could be, you know it isn’t good. But nothing could’ve prepared you for what you were met with at the door.

There you found him, sitting on the floor with his back turned to you, hunched over a mutilated body. Not any human body, but another ghoul, or what once was. Its head, torn off at the shoulders, lays a foot away from its body, unfortunately facing you. Its foggy eyes wide and seemingly staring into your soul. Its jaw is hanging by a thread, pulled apart with the stretched flesh hanging like strings. Whether it was always that way or not, you’d rather not know.

Both arms were ripped from its torso, one of them laying in tact, the other in pieces at each joint. Discolored blood is smeared on the floor, most likely from the gaping hole in the torso.

You try to suppress a gag—because of both the smell and sight—but it was futile. The sound alerts the other to your presence, making his head snap toward you. The same discolored blood from the floor is slathered on and around his mouth, dripping down his neck and staining his already dirty clothes. Something must’ve snapped him out of whatever mindset he was stuck in because upon seeing you standing there, visibly appalled, made his stomach churn. He pukes it all up right there, the disgusting taste of zombie organs finally registering with him.

You quickly look away, fighting off gags with your forearm pressed against your mouth. Never have you witnessed something like this. A ghoul eating another ghoul was just unheard of. It didn’t seem logical with what a ghoul’s diet really consists of: humans. He puked it all up as well, begging the question of whether he really wanted to or not. It would seem that way with how you walked up on him taking bites from the other’s intestines, but with him, you have to question everything you know.

Glancing back, you find him trying to wipe off the remnants of the other ghoul. He was struggling, even looked a little confused. So, you couldn’t help what you were about to do.

“Come on,” walking up to him, you hold your hand out toward him, “come with me.”

The look he gives you could’ve shattered your heart, his wide puppy-like eyes staring up at you coupled with the blood smeared on his face shouldn’t make you feel that way. It should make you feel disgusted, yet you only feel that way toward the mess and stench.

With a shaking, bloody hand, he takes yours, letting you lead him to wherever you were going. He wasn’t very focused on that, though. No, the sight of your hand grasping his is far too enthralling. The fact that you initiated it makes it feel even better.

Once at the showers, you pull him into the stall, making him stand just far enough to not be under the shower head. Letting go of his hand—much to his dismay—you reach past him and turn the nozzle, the sound of water smacking against the tiles echoing. You quickly take the opportunity to hold your hand under the water, washing off the blood that transferred onto your palm. You both watch as the dark substance flows on the floor and down the drain, getting stuck in creases along the way. He mimics your actions, surprising you when he skips waiting for the blood to wash off, immediately going to caress the lines of your palm.

“Why did you do it?”

Your voice is gentle to his ears, much like a soft caress. He did it for you. It was all for you. He would’ve killed anyone who walked through that door, not just a ghoul who wanted you for food. He could see no reason for anyone else to be in there anyways. He was protecting you. There’s no way he’d let anyone or anything touch you, not even come near you. He’d make sure of it even after you’re only his to keep. But he couldn’t tell you that. Not yet.

As for eating the other ghoul—that wasn’t planned. It was almost as if he blacked out. He can remember smelling you as he was ripping the limbs from the ghoul. It was too much to handle, so he bit into the ghouls thin, decaying flesh in an attempt to alleviate the hunger he felt for you.

He didn’t have the courage to confess it all to you, he didn’t want to scare you off. So, he ignored the question in favor of bringing your hand up to rest against his cheek.

“Please...”

His voice is unexpected, making you freeze completely and stare at him in shock. His eyes sparkle, staring at you pleadingly while you still try to comprehend the fact that he talked to you. There was a break in his voice that pulled at your heart, so you can’t stop yourself when you swipe your thumb across his cheek. His eyes flutter in bliss as you begin to wash the blood from his skin. The dark blood is like a waterfall on his skin, a contrast to his translucent and paling skin.

Your heart starts to beat faster as your fingers inch closer to his lips, yet they still dance across the bottom one ever so gently. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your fingertips upon feeling them, gliding his hands up your arm to hold your wrist in place. You didn’t expect the first kiss, and you definitely don’t expect when he continues to kiss different spots on your hand. It’s almost as if he’s lost in what he’s doing, his eyes shut as he concentrates on pressing his lips to your skin over and over again. You can feel the heat that rises to the tips of your ears while you watch him.

But the moment is short lived when you gently push him back, leaving him standing under the water. Hurt flashes across his features, a look that you force yourself to ignore.

“I’ll, uh, leave you to wash up properly,” you’re unable to make eye contact with him, but you still hold your tingling hand to your chest. “...and I’ll get you my mouthwash. Must still have a bad taste in your mouth.”

He can only nod in agreement and watch you walk off, never sparing him a glance. His heart hurts, but swells simultaneously at you caring for him. You’re right, there’s still a bad taste in his mouth. And he highly doubts that you would’ve wanted his nasty throw up mouth on you. How inconsiderate of him, he scolds himself.

You do exactly as you told him you would, opening up your bag and grabbing the travel bottle of mouthwash. But you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you’re basically on autopilot. You’re well aware of your heart still going haywire in your chest. It’s a little embarrassing, a ghoul making you feel this way. Maybe if you could just get past that stigma...

No way. There’s no way you’re seriously contemplating being with a ghoul. But it’s so tempting when he’s so sweet to you, practically worshiping your body every chance he gets. It’s supposed to creep you out, scare you—you know that. Still, your thoughts are filled with what it might feel like to let yourself go to him. You just don’t think you could handle it if he went all ghoul-cannibal again.

Those thoughts come to a halt once you walk up to his stall. His bare back is turned to you, littered with dark veins that demand to be seen through his deathly skin. The dried blood in his light hair washes away as he holds his head under the water. He didn’t bother taking his pants off, something you’re not sure if you’re actually thankful for.

Stuck staring, you notice the marks on the back of his right bicep. A bite. The teeth marks are messy, but left visible holes in his skin nonetheless. That must be how he turned, you think, must be why the rest of his skin is barren of gashes and punctures. Black veins branch out from the old wound, leaving the surrounding skin dark. Though it makes you wonder...did he die alone? That possibility makes your heart fall.

“Hey...”

His voice pulls you from your melancholic reverie. It still surprises you, his small voice. It doesn’t waver this time though, most likely getting used to using his vocal chords. He’s turned to face you now, chest and stomach accentuating his lean stature. You force yourself to hand him the mouthwash before you get too lost while looking at him again.

“Hey. Here you go.”

He takes the bottle from you, trying to pull the cap off, ultimately cracking it. Bringing the rim up to his lips, he takes a swig, surprisingly not struggling to keep it all in his mouth as he swishes it around. He makes brief eye contact with you as he spits it out—well, more like letting it spill from his mouth, the minty liquid dripping from his bottom lip to flow into the drain. Eyes meeting once again, he stares at you with an almost menacing look while sloppily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The sight sends a shiver through you, not knowing if it’s from fear or excitement.

Still full of surprises, he drops both the bottle and cap, letting them bounce on the tile as he reaches for you. Panic shoots through you when he grasps your hips, pulling you into him and under the flow of water. Maybe this was his breaking point. Maybe he was finally going to kill you—eat you.

But he only wraps his arms around you, securing you in a tight embrace. His face fits perfectly in the crook of your neck, a fact that leaves him as elated as feeling you against his cold skin. He can hear the breaths you take right next to his ear, a sound that comes second to your heartbeat—his favorite. The pounding muscle, especially when it speeds up, sparks excitement within him. He can just imagine the rapid beating doubled with your quick breaths, how you would say his name...

Wait. His name.

In that split second, he remembers it perfectly. All it took was the thought of you. It’s always you. You are his complete motivation; he would do anything for you. Anything at all.

“Jimin...” He huffs out into your shoulder, still having a hard time getting any words out since he already doesn’t breathe. It’s the moment you realize that he’s just a human stuck in a ghoul’s body.

By now you can’t help but ghost your hands over his arms, your fingertips going against the water droplets gliding along his skin. You’re both soaked, but it’s the least of your worries when he speaks the single name to you.

“That’s your name...isn’t it?” You can feel him nod in affirmation, his cheek brushing against your shoulder almost in a shy manner. However, his brazen actions paint him as anything but shy.

“Mine’s ____,” you whisper directly into his ear, oblivious to the true effect it has on him. Your name is something that he will commit to the little memory he still has. He’ll chant it over and over again if that’s what it takes to never forget your name. Lifting his head up, he locks eyes with you. His hair, drenched with water dripping from the ends, almost covers his contrasting orbs. You feel his arms tighten around you with his next words.

“____...”—making your breath hitch—“say it...” You stare at him in confusion, not quite sure what he means. “Say my name.”

His once soft tone is suddenly demanding, throwing you off, but reeling you in all at once. You’re captivated, completely and utterly captivated by him.

“Jimin.”

And he doesn’t waste a second in connecting your lips, his hand holding you in place on the side of your neck. It surprises you, but you’re quick to melt into his lips. His grip borders on tight, and you’d be worried if you weren’t so focused on how his lips feel. Soft and plush against your own in a delicious dance. And now, you didn’t have to wonder anymore with his lips latched to yours.

Jimin turns you until your back is pushed against the stall, all while you feel his tongue peek out to graze your bottom lip. The action has you letting out a small gasp and he takes the chance to push his tongue into your mouth, leaving you even more breathless when you feel it glide against your own. You can feel his hand massaging and gripping your waist, in turn making you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. With his body pressed against your own and his tongue feeling like heaven, your mind turns to mush. You’re putty in his icy hands.

Jimin detaches from your lips and you finally take a breath of air. His kisses move further down your neck, his tongue swirling on your skin with every few press of his addicting lips. You’re practically seeing stars already, eyes drooping in bliss. With him so close to your ear, you can hear each and every hum from him that has warmth spreading throughout your body. As his lips travel higher on your neck, you lean your head back, baring your throat to him. Jimin’s practically ravaging your skin, his kisses getting fervent, making you sigh as you card your fingers through his drenched hair.

And then suddenly, with his mouth opening wider, a searing pain sparks on your neck. Your eyes shoot open to be greeted with the molded ceiling that has you crashing back to reality. A pained sound escapes your open mouth as the realization dawns on you. Jimin is biting your neck. You can feel each and every puncture of his teeth into your skin, and he only bites down harder when you try to move. With all of the strength you can muster, you push him away harshly, finally getting him to stop sinking his teeth into you.

With foggy vision, you watch as he stumbles back, hitting the stall behind him. Your blood coats his lips and stain his teeth, and you can see it on his tongue when he licks his lips. All sound fades until there’s just a constant ringing.

Clutching your neck, you can feel the thick and slimy liquid that coats your skin. Even though you already know what it is, you can’t help but look at your shaking palm, caked and dripping with your own blood. Looking back up, you find Jimin nearing you once again. Hastily, you move backward until you’re cornered like you were before with your back against the stall. He gets closer and closer, watching you carefully, especially the blood that gushes from your neck. You sob when he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, not letting you jerk away.

“Beautiful...perfect...” And he means it. The thick red dripping along your body is a divine sight. He hates that you have to hurt for this to happen, and he’d be furious if it were anyone else that had done it, but it needed to be done. How else were you going to stay with him? Surely not as a human. Of course, he loved the beating of your heart and the warmth that you held, but he knew it would get in the way of making you his. This was inevitable.

His bite will stay there long after you’ve become undead, a fact that had him even more excited. His mark on your skin would be visible forever, a constant reminder of who you belong to—who made you. It was perfect.

Jimin watches you carefully, and it seems you’ve lost the will fight, though you never stopped glaring at him through your tears. You were already bitten, it was inescapable. But little did you know this was your fate from the moment you saw him in that abandoned store. You foolishly put hope into being with him, the deceiving ghoul that he truly is.

Your eyes start to roll back into your head, legs giving out with Jimin catching you before you can hit the hard floor. Picking you up, he leaves the running shower behind to carry you over to the mattress. Your body is limp in his arms, either passed out or already dead. After all, he picked the perfect spot to bite you. With the wound on your neck, it’ll take no time for the infection to make its way to your brain. He’ll have you quicker that way.

He sets your body on the mattress, blood quickly pooling on the fabric. Already, he can see the bite mark start to take effect, slowly starting to look just like his. It’s a gorgeous sight to him, and he can’t wait until you finally awaken. Then, he’ll be able to keep you forever.

tag list: @jikooksgirl19 @sicnesa @buzzyourgirlfriendwoof @deepdarkdelights @iamnamjoonsbxtch @4evahevah @moon8child

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plunnies-n-shit · 3 years

Text

achilles come down

(Ichigo didn't actually think that his kendo classes were actually going to be worth anything in the real world.)

(His sword knocks against his back as he throws himself over another ledge into a heart-dropping flight from building to building, and he's more bruises than skin, and the rusted metal of the fire escape catches on calloused fingers and smooth leather gloves, and the world has fucking died, but Ichigo has never felt more alive than he does unsheathing his sword and dropping on an unsuspecting shambler below.)

(There's no one around to bitch at him about it, so Ichigo doesn't bother taking the extra time to. Mourn. The way people seem to expect him to do. Over the zombies. Like, he understands that they were people, once upon a time, but his first thought is thanks that this kill was clean enough that he can wipe his blade on the back of the now-unmoving corpse's shirt.)

(Maybe he should feel. Empathy? Sympathy? When he goes through the pockets, coming up with a watch, a pack of cigarettes, and a ruined wallet. Both of those died in him a long fucking time ago, though.)

(About around the time his dad's corpse tried to kill his sisters, then him when he got in the way. Zangetsu's christening. Not the fucking point.)

(The point is that the alley is filled with now-unmoving corpses, and Ichigo definitely hasn't been around here often enough that they'd start to pile up. Also, he wouldn't let them pile up. They don't look that old, but he still checks to make sure his mask is snug, then his backpack for his bottle of gasoline and a lighter. Scavers don't frequent this deep in the city, and it's probably a moot point, since most of these buildings are so infested they've probably gone to spore anyways, but. Better safe than sorry.)

(He's in the process of making sure he doesn't accidentally start a wildfire when he hears something shifting around. Voices, too, muffled and low and impossible to make out over the crackling of blood-soaked fabric catching flame. Zangetsu slithers from its sheath, eagerly flashing in the light as Ichigo prowls around the corner.)

(And comes face to barrel with a gun.)

(There's a tall, blue-haired man behind the pistol, with a smaller, similarly-blue-haired girl tucked against his shoulder. He can't be older than twenty-five. She can't be older than nine. She's in an offensively-clean paper hospital gown. He's in battered and stained road leathers.)

(Ichigo slowly raises his hands and prays to whoever's watching over this dying world that this guy isn't stupid enough to actually shoot.)

("I'm not infected and neither is she," the guy says in a low, threatening whisper. "And you're gonna help us make sure we stay that way.")

#q's plunnies #achilles come down #bleach #zombie au #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo kurosaki #grimmichi #nelliel tu odelschwanck

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

Text

An Afterthought pt.2

Synopsis: Maeve shows up on your doorstep one night all sad and what not then leaves. Now it’s your turn to try and make amends.

Pairing: Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Words: 4.1+

A/N - Did someone call for an angsty part 2 to a story i put out almost a year ago?? I got a fair few requests for this so here it is. I hope you enjoy it sorry if you don’t. request are open btw.

Warning - Swearing, violence and a very brief mention of zombies.

Part 1

Thoughts about Maeve are more frequent as of late. What was once just a passing thought as you spotted her face on magazine covers or painted on walls now became bothersome. What exactly had brought her to your doorstep that night? It had just been so unexpected. It left you so painfully curious for answers. There had to be more to the story. Not to mention, you also found yourself missing here once again: more so than before. A deep ache that came from an old forgotten wound that had begun to heal through time. A week had passed before you decided to do something stupid. It's amazing what you can find out online these days.

A bright sun sat high in the sky which left the air dry and you feeling warm. The hustle and bustle of city life was always your least favourite thing about living here and it was even worse today. Crowds of people stand behind a barrier that was maned by a few security guards. Did these people not having anything better to do than gawk at supes all day? You had basically scrubbed the internet to find out where she would be today which lead to a Twitter thread between someone called @MAEVESWIFE and @maelander who were talking about a vought commercial being shot outside the tower today. Queen Maeve and Homelander would both be there. But at least you personally knew here unlike these guys. It was kind of cool how many people idolised them. Working your way through the crowd, you earned some very dirty looks for trying to get to the front. Homelander and Maeve were in fact stood before a crew of people and a few cameras, smiling brightly and saying something you couldn't quite hear. Maeve seemingly spots you among the crowd so you wave a little. It was hard to figure out if she was happy or furious but she signals for a break and charged towards you. The crowd erupts with excitement as the Queen herself graces them with her presence and Homelander trails behind her. The woman offers nothing but polite smiles to the adoring fans as she takes your hand leading you along the length of the barrier and over to the threshold. It was safe to say that just about everyone who was still standing behind the security guards was very pissed off that you were getting special treatment.

"What are you doing here?" She growls through gritted teeth and a plastered on smile that disappears once you're out of view from prying eyes.

"I wanted to see you after-"

"Who's this?" You both turn to him and then back to each other.

"Oh my god, it's Homelander," You express, plastering on your brightest smile. Tall, Muscular with an award-winning smile. Bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair. The one and only Homelander walks up beside the two of you. It was almost humbling to be standing before the leader of the seven. He was so powerful- they both were and you were nothing short of ordinary.

"This is a closed set,"

Maeve didn't seem to know what to say exactly so you take it upon yourself to introduce yourself to him as her friend. Although you weren't even sure you could call yourself that at this point. It was a complicated relationship and considering you had broken up, it was the most appropriate label.

"Oh, She has never mentioned you,"

You're about to answer when Maeve takes your arm abruptly and pulls you away from the man. "Will you give us a second,"

A little confused, you give him a little wave goodbye paired with an awkward little smile. His eyes seem to trail after you but you think nothing of it.

"He's taller than expected," You muse aloud as attention falls back to your ex-girlfriend. Arms crossed over her chest and with a less than favourable expression on her face, it's pretty clear she isn't happy. Now she knows what it's like to have an ex show up unannounced.

"What do you want?" Maeve whisper yells at you. "I'm a little busy."

"I know just..." A quick glance to Homelander who had returned to his adoring fans. He had superhearing so you were pretty sure he could still hear you anyway. "after the other night I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"If everything was fine you wouldn't show up on my doorstep." A casual shrug of your shoulders. Maeve may be able to fake a smile for the cameras but it was always pretty obvious to you when she was lying to you.

"I said I'm fine. You need to leave."

"Maeve," A soft sigh leaves your lips and you take her hand in yours; brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. "You can talk to me."

"Leave," She growls, pulling her hand away. "Please."

"We need to talk about the other night- you at least owe me that."

With a deep breath, Maeve turns on her heel and begins to walk away. "I'm busy,"

For a moment you just watched her walk away then jogged after her. "Then we can talk later- you could come by tonight? I'll even make dinner."

"Fine. Now leave."

This time you let her walk away and continue making her little advertisement. You wouldn't admit to her that you stuck around a little longer. Even got a chance to talk to Homelander a little before heading home. Chill dude, if not a little intimidating. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to invite your ex-girlfriend over for dinner but you wanted to get to the bottom of all this. You were actually a little nervous for her to arrive. Cooking had never been your specialty but you wanted everything to be perfect. A quick stop on the way home to buy groceries, you worked on dinner since getting home. pacing around as you waited for her to arrive. And waited. And waited. and waited. Lucky for the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, Maeve didn't show up. It probably should have been expected. She had never been the most reliable person unless she was saving the world apparently.

A loud bang has you stirring awake before the sun. It was probably just the neighbours; a loud groan as you bury your face into the covers to go back to sleep. But the banging doesn't stop and you soon realise it's your door. Rolling over, you check your phone to see it's four in the morning. What could anyone want at this time in the morning? Dragging yourself from under the protection of the duvet, you cautiously head to the door. Peaking through the peephole to see... Queen Maeve. "Just give me a chance."

A chance? You weren't sure she deserved any more of those but you still unlock the door and pull it open. Glancing over her as she offers up a smile. Does she ever wear anything other than her armour? "Chances comes after nine am." You protest putting what little strength you had into trying to close the door. It was effortless on her end to keep it open.

"You invited me over, remember?"

"I invited you over for dinner, Maeve. No sane person has dinner at four in the morning."

"I forgot I had a team-up with Black Noir- Just let me in."

With a defeated sigh, you step aside and retire to the couch. Slumped down against the cushions, your head falls back as your eyes flutter closed. The click of your door infers she follows you inside.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm." You hum, nodding nonchalantly.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Maeve suggests and again, you nod. She was familiar with the apartment so she knew where everything was but it still felt a little odd to have her wandering around with such familiarity. Who just shows up this early for a serious talk? A silence comes between the two of you. She may have attempted to keep the conversation going in between asking if you wanted coffee and delivering it to you but you didn't notice. Sitting up as a hand is gently placed against your shoulder, she hands over a large mug.

Blowing gently over the top before you take a tentative sip; warmth radiated from the liquid as it slips down your throat. Maeve joins you, perching on the edge of the couch as if she was ready to leave again. Maybe she was now regretting her decision to visit. You were kind of regretting opening the door instead of just going back to sleep instead. Since you were up anyway, might as well make the most of it.

"I can- I can make you breakfast or something if you want? Since you... missed dinner."

"Oh great, yeah," Maeve responds.

"What would you like? Cereal, toast, pancakes maybe?"

"Pancakes would be great." Of course, they would. She had to pick the option that required the most effort. You didn't mind making her something as much as you just didn't want to get up.

"Alright just... give me a moment to wake up."

"You won't wake up if you keep trying to go back to sleep," A snarky remark that earned her a small smile, your middle finger shoots up in response. The two of you just sit in silence together and every few seconds or so you'd take a sip of the coffee she made. It was all feeling a little awkward. Placing the mug down on the coffee table, you rise and get started on making breakfast. Maeve moves from the couch to the kitchen table, fiddling with the little salt and pepper shakers that always resided there. You don't know what to say and clearly, neither does she.

"So... how are things?" You question as you whisk the mixture together.

"I'm fine, I guess" She shrugs a little. You can't help but sigh a little. "What?"

"Nothing," you insist, grabbing the frying pan and place it over a medium heat; Adding a blob of butter and some oil. "If you don't want to talk Maeve then why did you bother to come over?"

Placing down the salt and pepper shaker with a clink, her attention falls to you. "because you asked."

"Yeah, I asked to talk about the other night. You were clearly messed up."

"Why is it so hard to believe I was just looking to fuck?" It was really hard to believe but rather that you just knew it wasn't true. You were pretty sure Maeve had her choice of partners should she require one. So why come to your door?

"Because I'm not stupid" You pour the mixture into the pan with a satisfying sizzle. "I know you well enough to know that's bull."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Flipping the pancake over, you're taken back by her comment. Did you know Maeve as well as you thought? You had never expected her to just up and leave you one day and she did? She lived an entire superhero life that you knew nothing about. Maeve had always been pretty private when it came to that side of herself. You make another couple of pancakes before serving her up a plate.

"You aren't eating?"

"Too early," you return, taking up the seat opposite her. You watch as her fork pierce the surface of the pancake, cutting off a small piece and pop it into her mouth.

"Taste okay?"

"They're good," Mouth hidden behind the palm of her hand as she mumbled through her food. It lowered a moment later. "I came over because my job is hard. I was the in the area, I was having a tough day."

"A tough day?" Getting any sort of details out of her was like pulling teeth. Why was she so reluctant to speak to you? If she didn't want to have this conversation she should have just no turned up like she hadn't for dinner. Would have saved the effort and you could be sleeping right now.

"Yeah,"

"That's that then." Hands slap against the table as you rise from the seat. No point in sticking around if this wasn't going anywhere. "Case closed. When you're finished just leave the plate in the sink, I'm going back to bed."

"Seriously?"

"You woke me up at four am just to tell me you had a bad day. Shit, I have plenty of bad days, I don't show up at Vought tower." You start walking back towards your bedroom although your slow, hesitant even like you were just waiting for an excuse to turn back.

"I really was having a bad day," she repeats. "Really bad. And all I could think about was seeing you." And getting drunk, guess she just conveniently forgot about that part. There were many moments although brief where you were having a hard time and you thought about going to see Maeve. She used to be such a big part of your life it was almost an instinct to return to her for comfort. You never actually did obviously. As pathetic as her explanation was, it brought you back to the dining table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"What's the worst thing you could ever imagine?"

"Huh?" What kind of question was that?

"Just answer it,"

Your mouth opens but no answer comes to mind at all. You were more curious about the reason behind it. It's too early for philosophical debates and it had nothing to do with anything you had been talking about. "uh, I don't know... post-apocalyptic zombie invasion, maybe?"

"Can you take this seriously?"

"I am," you huff. It was a stupid question anyway. "Zombies-"

"really freak you out, I remember." Strange thing to remember. It couldn't have come up in conversation often. It was a little funny the small things people remembered about each other. "I meant something that could actually happen though. I've seen some pretty fucked up shit."

"Like what?" She turns to you like she's about to say something but quickly stops herself. Continuing the eat the breakfast you so lovingly prepared. With the way she had been playing with her food, you suspected she no longer wanted it despite having hardly eaten any.

"Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I could just live a normal life or whatever"

"Nothing glamorous about a normal life," You stifle a yawn. "I think I'd rather be adored by millions and save the day but we aren't all lucky enough to have powers."

"Lucky," A bitter laugh. "I wouldn't call myself lucky."

"You're being so weird." You comment, a quirked brow.

"I would rather be adored by one person who truly means it."

"Guess that's all anyone wants. Supe or not."

Her eyes meet yours for a few seconds before dropping. Did she mean you? There was no doubt you had feelings for the woman and very much still did. But you can't imagine it's anything compared to the weirdos who worship the ground she walks on. They obviously didn't really know her and vice versa but still. There was an element of pureness that came with being so dedicated to someone. "You never answered my question."

"I don't know Maeve it's too early..." You grumble. "Do you want me to say something like war or famine or something?"

"Not unless it's the truth."

Everyone wished for world peace. Everyone wanted to feed the hungry. House the homeless. Basic answers that any decent person would come up with. It lacked originality. It lacked feeling. Everyone would probably have a more personal reason."What's yours?"

"Something happening to you... because of me."

"Really? That's the worst thing you can think of?" Didn't she just say she had seen a lot of messed up stuff and yet her concern resided with you? What did she think would happen? And didn't a broken heart technically count as something happening because of her? Shifting in your seat, you lean down onto the table before you. Thinking of your own answer. The worst thing you could imagine?

"I answered," she shrugs but doesn't elaborate. "Now you go."

"I guess... finding out you died," Should you admit something like that? "You're the strongest person I know. I still... care for you. I'm not sure I would handle it well- Is that a better answer?"

"It's sufficient."

"Sufficient? I really don't know what you want from me Maeve? I don't know what the worst thing is, okay? I'm too tired for this shit."

She places her cutlery carefully on the plate, pushing out her seat. "I should go."

"Maeve?"

"I'll go, you can go back to bed. I don't even know why I came here."

"No. Stay. I wanna talk."

" Let's just forget this ever happened." Brushing herself off, Maeve heads back towards the door. This whole back and forth was growing awfully tiresome. Every time you thought you scratched the surface of her mask, there was a new layer underneath more impenetrable than the last. Maybe you should just let her go? It'd be easier. It was probably for the best too but when she had shown up at your door the other night, you realised just how much you still wanted this. Still wanted her. She may have left you one day without any explanation but seeing her for the first time in a long time had brushed all rational thought aside. You were in love with her even now. Tears brimmed your eyes whether it was due to tiredness or a flush of emotions, it was unclear.

"If you walk out that door I'm done," You declare as confidently as you can. Hoping your sadness was hidden amongst the dim light that filled the entire room. "Don't bother showing up on my doorstep when you have a shitty day." Maeve pauses with her hand on the doorknob but only for a second before twisting the handle and pulling open the door. "Maeve... just tell me what's going on with you, please."

"Everything I have done to you was to protect you." Final words as she leaves. The door clicking behind her. To protect you? From what? What was she even talking about anymore. Anger bubbles deep inside you and you find yourself charging after her. Bursting out into the chilly hallway, you catch her in the corner of your eye. She was leaning against the wall just outside your apartment basking in the flicker of the corridor light.

"Protect me from what?" You wonder quietly, taking a wary step closer. "I don't understand."

"...Homelander." Voice but a whisper mumbled into the darkness. Homelander? The Homelander? Why would you need protection from him, you didn't even know him? Plus he was like a beloved superhero and the last time you checked, superheroes were the good guys.

"You're scared of... the world's greatest superhero?"

"Never meet your heroes."

"Aren't you two like friends? You even dated him. Why are you scared of him?" Another step closer, you lay your hand tenderly on her shoulder. An attempt to support her even if you didn't understand the situation. "He didn't seem so bad when I met him yesterday. I actually spoke with him after."

"You spoke after? Why?" Maeve snarled swiftly making you back away a little only for her hand to snap around your wrist. Cold fingertips apply a deep pressure to your skin as if it's taking everything in her not to press harder. You swallow hard, confused by her anger. "I told you to leave"

"It- it's not a big deal. He just wanted to know more about us," Even you can hear the panic in your voice as you struggle to get the words out. It was a little embarrassing, to say the least, but you'd never really experienced this side of Maeve before. Her anger had never really been directed towards you.

"And you told him?"

"Yeah. He took it pretty well actually, I was surprised. "

"How can you be so fucking stupid?" Her grasp begins to stiffen around your wrist. Maeve was strong, inhumanly so. If she wanted to she could break every one of your bones like it was nothing. That never used to bother you so much but in this instance, your own weakness had never been more apparent.

"Maeve," You struggle against her grip, a pleading look as you meet the brown of her eyes. "...You're scaring me,"

Those magic words seemed to break the spell that had come over her and Maeve released you in an instant. Regret washing off her face in record time. "I'm sorry, okay- I'm sorry," You take a step back; the other hand rubbing at the wrist she just let go off. "I didn't mean to- I wouldn't hurt you."

"I... let's just go back inside." It's hard to pretend that didn't just happen. That Maeve didn't almost crush your wrist for doing the wrong thing. But it wasn't her fault, right? She just isn't herself at the moment. Her emotions got the best of her when she found out you told Homelander about your relationship. Warily, you hold out your hand in offering. It's a little shakey but you just hope she doesn't notice as she takes your hand and you lead the way back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind the two of you, you return to the couch. Sat on either ends so you're as far away as possible without being on the floor, things are feeling a little awkward now. You can't help but focus on your wrist, the feeling of her hand still lingers in a ghostly embrace. "I'm sorry I told Homelander about us."

"You didn't know..."Maeve lets out a heavy sigh as she turns to face you. "Homelander is a monster. He's hurt people just for looking at me funny- "

"Oh." A little surprising to hear. You had always kind of suspected Homelander was a bit of an arsehole but not that he was inherently a bad person. He saves people after all. You've seen him save people. He was basically on the news every other day or in the newspaper or trending on Twitter. There was no evidence to supporting Maeve's theory but you also had no reason not to trust her. She had no reason to lie to you.

"He's done atrocious things. He's made me do atrocious things. I was trying to protect you from him- and from myself,"

"...Why are you telling me this now?" Couldn't she have just told you all this from the beginning? It still didn't explain why she had just shown up the other day either? Clearly, something had happened between her and Homelander at least that's what you gathered from the context.

"To keep you safe," Maeve returns. "So you'll stop hating me."

"I could never hate you," An offer of a faint smile that may or may not betray you. When she had first left you, you were so filled with hatred but it was so hard to stay angry at her. You didn't hate her anymore but you couldn't say you were simply over it now. "It's not your fault."

"It is though- I put you in this situation. I let those people die,"

"What are you talking about? What people?" Every time Maeve opened her mouth you grew slightly more confused and you didn't know how to help. Watching her with an inquisitive eye, you notice as a tear or two begins to glide down her rose-tinted cheeks. It was enough to bring your walls crashing down. Whatever she was talking about must be really affecting her for her to start crying. A hand reaches out only to pull back as you remember what happened last time. You take a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.

"I should have stood up to him but I was scared."

"Scared of Homelander," You repeat. Still trying to process the information.

"I don't want to be a monster like him." Against your better judgement, this time you shuffle closer and entice her into a soothing hug. Holding onto her tightly like you never wanted to let go because frankly, you didn't. Maeve was warm, she was safe. You wanted to offer her that same sense of comfort even if it was impossible. You wanted to drown in her affection.

"You're not a monster, Maeve" The other woman melts into your caring touch, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You were so used to confident, super-strong Maeve that it was a little weird to have her be so vulnerable. Especially sober. But even your words weren't enough to trick your brain into quelling that twinge of fear that now resides in you. "Whatever's going on, I'm gonna help you get through it. I promise."

#the boys #Queen Maeve #queen maeve x reader #queen maeve imagine #dominique mcelligott

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celiabowens · 4 years

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underrated SFF books (YA and Adult)

So uhm, since I keep seeing the same books on my dash all the time (and I like them too, just...there’s more! to read!) here’s a list of less popular SFF books, divided into YA and Adult. I’ve tried to mention when there is lgbt rep and the trigger warnings. Also, books written by poc will be in bold. Please point out any typo or mistake or if I’ve forgotten specific rep/tw mentions.

All of these are books that I’ve read and enjoyed (by enjoyed I mean anything from 3 stars and above), but if anyone wants to add titles please feel free to do so!!

YA:

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi: beautifully written, fairytale-like story rich in mythology (inspired by several Hindu myths. There’s a full list on goodreads indicated by the author herself). Roshani’s prose is gorgeous.

A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi: it’s a companion novel to The Star-Touched Queen, but both can be read as a standalone. I liked this one more than its companion and I particularly loved how the romance was written (slow burn, but specifically, the author really highlights the mutual respect between the characters, we love to see it).

The Young Elites by Marie Lu: fantasy trilogy set in a world inspired by Renaissance Italy, in which children who survived a mysterious and deadly illness ended up with strange and dangerous powers. Secret societies and a female villain!

The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: historical fantasy following Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, a girl as talented as her brother, but afraid of being forgotten because of the lack of opportunities she has to be seen and heard. Nuanced sibling relationship, no romance.

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski: fantasy f/f romance! Both a coming of age story set in a society with a rigid class system and a slow burn f/f romance with a lot of banter. TW: abuse.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: magical realism. The book follows two families of traveling performers that have been locked in a feud for over a generation. This was the author’s debut and I remember getting an arc of it and being impressed by both the prose and how the forbidden love trope was handled.

When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: another magical realism novel. One of the main characters is a trans boy and the book focuses on issues of racism and gender. One of my favorite YA!

Strange Grace by Tessa Gratton: fantasy romance set in a village that periodically sacrifices a young man in order to keep a deal with the devil that ensures their prosperity. Also, polyamorous and non-binary rep.

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: first book in a duology following avatar Kyoshi’s life. It explores the political and cultural aspect of the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi’s past. Bisexual rep.

Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: sort of a murder mystery fantasy, as the main character finds herself suddenly thrust into power once her father has been murdered. The story has a slow build up to a last part full of twists and machinations and it features lots of court intrigue. Warning: the ending is quite open and afaik there isn’t a sequel planned as of now.

The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones: a quite unique take on zombies influenced by Welsh mythology (it’s super cool). The novel follows Ryn and their siblings, as they try to get by after their parents’ death by working as gravediggers. Only well, the dead don’t always stay dead. The characters read a bit younger than they are imo. There is chronic pain rep.

The Magnolia Sword by Sherry Thomas: retelling of the original ballad of Mulan. The book follows Mulan, who’s trained her whole life to win a duel for a priceless heirloom, as she joins the army. There’s a lot of political and historical details, which I really appreciated. Do not go into it expecting a fun adventure though. The descriptions of war aren’t extremely graphic, but be aware of the fact that most of the book is set during a conflict.

The Candle and The Flame by Nafiza Azad: standalone fantasy set in a city on the Silk Road! It’s a quite slow-paced tale about love, family and politics. It has lush descriptions of landscapes and cultures (and FOOD, there are some really great descriptions of food). It’s a very atmospheric book and while I struggled a bit with the pace I’d still recommend it.

Forest of a Thousand Lanters by Julie C. Dao: sort of an East Asian inspired retelling of Snow White, but following the Evil Queen before she became Snow White’s stepmother. I honestly haven’t read its sequel (which should focus on Snow White herself), but I do think this can be read and enjoyed as a standalone too.

The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner: it’s hard to point out exactly what this series is about because it has evolved so much with time. It starts out as classic quest/adventure series with The Thief (which may seem a classic and simple book, but is actually full of foreshadowing and has a really clever set up), but develops into a complex and intriguing political fantasy in The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (and then goes back to the quest theme in book 5, Thick as Thieves).

Adult:

A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers by Alyssa Wong: I’m cheating with this one because it’s technically a short story but I love Alyssa Wong’s stories so I’m putting it here anyway. It can be read for free and you should just...read it.

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang: grimdark fantasy (TW: abuse, self harm, rape, drug abuse), inspired by Chinese history. It’s adult, but follows younger MCs and the unique blend of different historical periods/inspirations makes it extremely interesting. The characters are extremely fucked up in the best possible way, plus the use of shamanism is awesome. Please make sure you check all the TW before reading.

The Sword of Kaigen by M.L. Wang: a Japanese-inspired militaristic fantasy, with elemental magic, a badass housewife dealing with her past and hiding a sword in her kitchen’s floor. It has interesting and nuanced family dynamics and a great reflection on propaganda and the use of narratives.

Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri: first book in an epic fantasy duology inspired by Mughal India (TW: abuse, slavery). I really liked both Empire of Sand and its companion and I find them pretty underrated. Both books have great slow burn romance (with a focus on mutual trust and respect) and focus on culture, religion, self acceptance and politics.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: a fantasy bildungsroman set in Mexico during the Jazz age. It’s a great approach to adult SFF as it follows a young girl on a life changing adventure. It features Mayan mythology and a god slowly becoming human (this trope is everything!).

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: a coming of age story inspired by Russian folklore. The trilogy as a whole has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen: each book is perfectly self-contained and has its own arc, but also fits perfectly in the bigger picture of the trilogy. The atmosphere is amazing, the cast of characters is extremely well developed. Also frost demons are better than men.

The Binding by Bridget Collins: historical fantasy, but with very minimal fantasy elements. It’s set in a world vaguely reminiscent of 19th century England. I’d say this book is about humans and self discovery. It’s about cowardice and the lies we tell ourselves and those we wish we could tell ourselves. Gay rep. (TW: abuse, sexual assault, pretty graphic suicide scene).

The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett: starting with City of Stairs, it follows a female diplomat and spymaster(!!). The whole trilogy features an interesting discussion about godhood, religion, fanatism, politics, without ever being boring or preachy. It has complex and rich world building and a pretty compelling mystery.

Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett: heist fantasy following a thief as she’s hired to steal a powerful artifact that may change magical technology as she knows it. Set in a Venice-like merchant city. Also, slow burn f/f romance.

Jade City by Fonda Lee: sort of a gangster urban fantasy, heavily inspired by wuxia and set in an Asian-inspired metropolis. It follows a pretty big cast of characters, each with their own journey and development. It features nuanced family dynamics and a lot of political and economical subplots. Not extremely prominent, but book 2 features m/m side rep.

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse: inspired by Native American culture and specifically by the idea of subsequent worlds. It has a kickass MC and a good mix of original elements and typical UF tropes. TW: the book isn’t extremely violent but there is death and some gore.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine: space opera inspired by the Mexica and middle period Byzantium. It focuses on topics like colonialism and the power of narratives and language. It has one of the best descriptions of what it’s like to live in between spaces I’ve ever read. Also very interesting political intrigue and has a slow burn f/f romance (and a poly relationship recalled through flashbacks). I ranted a lot about it already.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee: a Korean-inspired space opera with a magic system based on math. It’s honestly quite convoluted and difficult to follow, but it also features some of the best political intrigue I’ve ever read. Plenty of lying, backstabbing and mind games. It also features lesbian and bisexual rep and an aroace side character (TW: mass shooting, sexual assault, abuse). I also really recommend Yoon Ha Lee’s short-story collection Conservation of Shadows.

The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers: character driven space opera featuring a found family journeying through space. A fun read, that also deals with topics such as sexuality and race. Quite easy to go through, as the world building and plot aren’t particularly complex themselves. f/f romance.

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: an Asian-inspired fantasy novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric (non binary rep) as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life. It focuses on bonds between women and the power that lies in being unnoticed. f/f side rep.

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark: an urban fantasy novella, based on Orisha mythology and set in an alternate, sort of steampunk, New Orleans. I really like how creative Clark’s worlds are and how good he is at writing female characters (which rarely happens with male authors).

The haunting of tram car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark: novella set in an alternate steampunk Cairo populated by supernatural entities. It’s set in the same world of a Dead Djinn in Cairo, which is a short story you can read for free.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: epistolary novella set during a time-travel war. It has gorgeous writing and an amazing f/f romance. As a novella, it’s quite short but it’s beautifully crafted and so complex for such a short book!

The Citadel of Weeping Pearls by Aliette de Bodard: a novella set in the Xuya universe (a series of novellas/short stories set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration), but can be read as a standalone. It’s a space opera featuring a disappeared citadel and the complex relationship between the empress and her daughter as war threatens her empire.

One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake: self-published urban fantasy following two rival families in New York. Sort of a Romeo and Juliette retelling but with gangster families and magic. Honestly recommend all of her books, I love how Olivie writes and especially how she writes female characters.

#book recs #book recommendations #adult sff #ya literature #lgbt fiction #litblr #listen this doesn't show in tags i'm DONE #done with this tagging system lol #also if there are mistakes please tell me!!#book rec

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