#why is there a swap weapons button that does nothing

[revvethasmythh]

this is undoubtably me being a dumbass but I think I missed part of the tutorial about ranged attacks (while fighting with the camera probably) because I’m like. I don’t know how to use my bow and at this point I’m afraid to ask

[lockpickingliar]

So Goes the Fallen

April is the Cruelest Month: Day Five

Slavery-|-Mind Control-|-Forced to beg-|- “It’s too late to ask for forgiveness” (Bonus: Pick who dies) Cookiev3rse: Hope Factory—confronting Miu Cookie is open for asks.

"Oh man, I'm honored you asked me to meet up with you, Iruma-chan. Is this a booty call...?" Kokichi turned from the brick banister to face Iruma.

"... Or are you here to kill me?"

She took a step back, and if Kokichi saw a flash of fear on the overly simplistic face of her chibified avatar, no he didn't.

He couldn't get cold feet now, and neither could she.

"S-so... you figured it out," she muttered, composing herself. "But there's nothing you can do. You... can't resist me. I made sure of it when I programmed your settings."

Just as he'd anticipated. Damn. Guess it would have to be the nuclear option after all.

"Uh-ooooh!" he gushed sarcastically, making her wince. "Guess I'm in trouble now!"

The cheerful tone fell flat amidst the tense atmosphere. There was no mistaking it or covering it with a lie. No diffusing the situation as she continued to advance on him.

Iruma was serious.

"I-I'm sorry, but... you should just give up. This is... my only chance."

Of course it was. She had been planning this for days. Kokichi was all too aware of that, and what a thorough plan it had been. She really had thought of everything, from the method to the opportunity to the scapegoat to...

To the careful selection of her godforsaken victim.

It stung, really. After all the faith he'd put in her. After all the gadgets he'd commissioned from her. The plans she'd played a crucial part in—

"Ugh, what a pain in my ass. Why do I gotta make this again?"

The tink tink tink of a tiny hammer on a delicate electrical casing echoed through the lab as Kokichi casually fiddled with an unfinished remote in his hands, mashing the useless buttons at random.

"Quit complaining. This is all an unfuckable, ugly bitch like you is good for, anyway."

"Huh? Oh, okay."

For all the hostility, the atmosphere was comfortable between them. Two outliers who didn't let the other's eccentricities bother them. The relaxation for Kokichi somehow managed to loop right back into being unsettling.

If he'd gotten used to these quiet moments with Iruma, no he hadn't.

"But this is so exciting!" He hopped off the table and spun on his heel like an idiot to get some of that nervous energy out. "When this is done, we can probably defeat Monokuma, right? Especially when we all join forces!"

"Don't be stupid... If you're gonna do it... do it yourself."

Kokichi stopped and stared for a moment. Iruma didn't look up from her work.

"Hmmm?" He tucked his arms behind his head, leaning curiously with an inquisitive smile.

"It doesn't matter if we promise to work together... Someone will still betray us..."

If a chill ran up Kokichi's spine, no it didn't.

"Betray us and... kill one of us..."

He dropped his arms, his expression unreadable and Iruma continued to prattle on.

"Besides, this weapon won't make a difference. We'll be killed by an Exisal before we can use it. I just... invented it because I was asked to. I have no intention of defying Monokuma..."

She swapped her hammer for a tiny screwdriver, fingering her way through delicate wiring, entirely focused on her task.

Entirely oblivious to Kokichi watching her.

"There's no way we can beat him... And... I can't afford to die here, anyway... Not when I still need to invent something that's gonna change the world!"

She snapped the casing over the wiring on the newly finished electrohammer with a sense of finality.

"S-so... if you wanna defy Monokuma, do it yourself."

So that was it, huh...?

"But, if it does work out... come help me, okay? I'll do anything—anything—to thank you..."

Well, if he had the opportunity, he knew he would without question.

—but of course, that was a lie.

"I have no choice but to do this."

No, he supposed she didn't.

"My inventions will change the world... They'll make the world a better place!"

And at this point, neither did he. He carefully wiped his expression clean.

If his hand trembled slightly as he gave the signal, no it didn't.

"It's my duty as a genius inventor! S-so I can't afford to die here—"

Gokuhara descended on her immediately, just as they'd planned.

It was surreal, how the thin paper looped around her neck in one smooth motion. Kokichi staggered back as she desperately reached out to him, trying to make contact, to paralyze him, but Gonta held her back.

"S-sorry...! Gonta is so sorry!"

Kokichi sauntered to the door, flipping the lock shut. He took a stuttering breath and pushed the choking gasps behind him out of his mind. Mask on, he had to make sure Gokuhara didn't get cold feet. They were in too deep to turn back now.

"Don't be sorry, Gonta-chan," he reassured calmly. "She was trying to kill me, too."

It was either her or the rest of the class. He had to believe that. If there had been any chance, any at all, that Kokichi could be sure Saihara would have figured things out on his own without him—without the living lie detector to sniff out the shady truth of Iruma's world—then he would have happily bowed his head to her hammer. But he couldn't. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore. Not after what he saw.

"She said it was for the world or whatever, but that was just a poor excuse," he insisted. If a waver managed to worm its way into his voice, no it didn't. "We're doing this to stop the vicious cycle of misery! So you don't need to apologize."

"B-but... but...!" Gokuhara sobbed as Iruma slowly stopped struggling, crumpling in his arms. "Gonta is sorry! Gonta is so sorry, Iruma-san!"

It was a shame Gokuhara would have to go down with them, too, but depending on Monokuma's answer then maybe he could work out a deal.

He was taking Iruma out of this game, so he alone should go with her.

"I already said you don't need to apologize. We had to do this for everyone's sake."

They had to do this. He had to do this. There was no other option. She would have lied. No one would have known. They would have died by her hand.

Besides, it was too late to ask for forgiveness.

[di-kut]

Baar Bal Runi Chapter Eleven

Series Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive!Reader

Words: 4.5K

Summary: (Body Swap AU) You are stuck alone on a strange planet in the Crest waiting for Din to return from a hunt. 

Rating: A violent M. It’s not extreme but this chapter has some strong descriptions of blood and body wounds. 

A/N: Please don’t kill me.

The night is heavy and dark, well past midnight. You stare at the blinking light above your cot and wonder why you are suddenly awake. Feel the deep breathing of the child next to you where he is curled against your side beneath the covers. Count the seconds between each flash of the orange light until your eyes start to slip closed again. But then you hear it. Distant metallic banging, and scraping, the sounds of heavy things being shifted against a hard floor. And you are wide awake, sit up in the cot, an arm out over the child as you search the darkness beyond the open ramp. Slip as quiet as you can from the bed. The helmet is sitting next to you, at the edge of the nearest crate. You pull it on as you move and crouch. Keep your body and head as low as you can to the floor. Move along the walls.

You press yourself against the space next to the lowered ramp, feel the coolness of the air beyond against your uncovered hands. Turn the helmet just enough that you can see the dock. The shadows of machinery and storage crates are like looming creatures in the dark, bulking and strange. Catch the dim light and look like things they are not. The noise quiets, and then starts again. Echoes around the dock and into the ship. Sounds like it is coming from beneath the nose of the ship, but you cannot be sure. The way the sound bounces makes it feel like it is coming from everywhere all at once. But you can see no movement. Count the three droids which had stayed powered down in the corner of the dock since your arrival. Not a droid then. Your heart is pounding in your ears, in the tips of your uncovered hands. You are not wearing any Beskar, any of the armour. Not even your boots. Only the helmet.

You move quickly back to the bed, scoop the child out from beneath the covers and press along the walls to the ladder. Stay covered in the shadows. The climb is easier to keep quiet in bare feet and you slip up easily even with one hand clutching the child to your chest. You shush him quietly when you can, see his eyes beginning to open. You move left at the top of the ladder and are grateful the ship is so small and the trip to the captain’s quarters is a short one. Open the door and carefully set the half-asleep child down on Din’s bed. Pat his head only once, just to soothe him, and step back again. Already out the door, the room barely bigger than some of the compartments on the ship. You seal the door from the outside.

Din has taken his rifle, and two blasters. Had one strapped to either hip. But there is no shortage of weapons on the Crest. You open the weapons compartment when you are back in the hull and grab one, a large blaster, the weight of it in your hands doesn’t make you feel any better. But it gives you enough confidence to toe your way back to the open ramp. To crouch in the dark and the quiet and listen to the sounds still echoing around the space beyond. And you can see a shadow now, now that your eyes have adjusted in the helmet. The dark top of someone moving beneath the belly of the ship. Watch as it moves back and forward, closer and closer, and then disappears behind the lowered ramp. Strain your ears to something, anything. The sound of scraping metal against metal or footsteps. Think the intruder must be directly beneath you. You wait there, crouched against the wall of the ship, until your back locks and your knees ache. But there are no more sounds. No more shadows moving in the darkness.

You step out slowly, blaster raised in front of you, and you are glad your arm does not shake. The grating of the ramp digs in against the soles of your feet, so cold it almost hurts. The helmet makes your breath echo back to you strangely – disconnected. Like someone else is breathing in your ear and down your neck. Like you are floating strangely out of your own body. A feeling which you now know well.

It feels as if it takes too long to reach the solid ground at the end of the ramp. The duracrete is covered in a layer of fine grit, you feel it beneath your toes. Take a deep breath. You duck beneath the ramp, blaster ready, finger tensed over the trigger. But beneath the ship is quiet and empty. You turn the helmet slowly, strain your ears to listen, and you wish you had asked Din to show you how to work the controls for it. Can’t see anything from your peripheral vision. The whole world narrowed to the slit of your visor and dotted with static. Ragged breathing bouncing all around you.

You close the ramp to the ship and wait, blaster up. But there is no sound other than the whirring of it closing, and no movement. You lap the dock, open every crate and every box. Check every storage unit you have access to. There is nothing. Nothing but tools and spare parts and the droids which have not been turned on in two days. You move around the dock, over and over and over, thinking each time you will find something. That there will be some person waiting for you in the shadows. You think of the shadow under the door on Garel and you cannot breathe. Lap the space until the first light of the morning begins to colour the sky above you, and the looming shadows in the dark become just boxes and machinery again. And you think you are so gripped with fear and panic that you cannot think straight. That you must be hallucinating. Months of tension finally beginning to crack and splinter and tear you apart.

You open the ramp again. Your toes are red from the cold, and your fingers. Hurt from holding the blaster so tight. Have made small crescent moons of blood in your palm from clenching your fist.

You do not put the blaster away, not even when the ramp is closed. And before you climb the ladder of the ship you put on the Mandalorian’s undersuit and his Beskar. Check each strap and plate is tight. Bring the blaster with you up into the captain’s quarters on the upper deck.

The kid wakes when the door opens again, blinks up at you with clouded eyes. Yawns and rolls towards the door and puts his arms up, reaching for you from the covers. You step inside, the space small enough that you can sit easily onto the cot already. The door hisses as it closes and the hum of silence fills up everything around you. Blocks out the world beyond. It is dark in the closed space and you pat against the wall for the control panel. Flick on a dim light which buzzes as it brightens. Flickers occasionally. Lift the child from the cot and cradle him against your chest, over your thundering heart. Feel him begin to coo softly against you, reach his hand up to touch at your neck. Tug at the covering you had pulled over your jaw. You have to hold the child with one hand so you can pull the helmet off. Feel like you are suffocating inside it. Place the heavy weight away and move to place it on a little metal ledge at the end of the room. Pull your hand back before you can put it down.

The ledge has a set of clothes folded neatly on it already. A pale tunic and set of light woollen trousers. The front of the shirt is facing up, crisp and neat, buttons fastened all the way to the top. You are frozen. Hand shaking slightly. Helmet hovering just above it. The child coos again and the moment breaks all around you. You place the helmet so softly against the metal it makes no sound as it touches. The shirt seems to look back up at you, and you brush just the tips of your fingers over it. The tunic does not belong to Din. It is yours.

The bed is made as neatly as the shirt is folded. The covers made and turned up at the top and tucked beneath the thin mattress. Reminds you of the barracks of the storm troopers you visited on Coruscant as a girl. The bed of a soldier. The walls are bare here as they are everywhere else.

You set the kid down on the made bed and watch him burrow straight into the covers. Know the little cot is familiar to him, barely larger than the narrow one which belongs to you in the hull. You sit gingerly at the end of it and begin unlacing your boots. Toe out of them and push yourself back over the covers. Keep the Beskar strapped sturdy around you. Don’t think. For once, don’t think about whether or not you should be there. Don’t think that you should leave this one space for him. The child scrabbles up over your chest and lays himself down over your chest plate. His little belly sitting over your heart. He makes a quiet, happy little noise and settles against the armour. Presses his cheek to the cool metal and closes his eyes. You wrap your arm up so you can hold a hand over the child, keep him to your chest. You turn your head into the pillow, and you realise you smell like him. Like Din. That your hair and your skin smells like softly of lemon. And you finally sleep.

You wake in the late afternoon to the sounds of speeders overhead. Dull through the thickness of the walls of the ship. It is still dark in Din’s quarters, and the child is still curled against your chest. His huge eyes bright even in the dim. You smile at him, had forgotten to turn the light out again the night before. You feel the tickle of thick facial hair against your upper lip. Rub the tip of the child’s ear. Your back is stiff and aching from the Beskar and after weeks of sleeping without it, you don’t know how you ever managed to sleep in it at all.

The day passes somehow too quickly and too slowly all at once. You keep yourself busy checking the ship. Run your gaze over and over the belly of it and the external access to the engine. Scared you will find signs of meddling. Scared you won’t. Think you must have been dreaming the noises last night because the ship is just as it ever was. You check the time like a bad habit. You hope for nightfall, hope for it so that Din can come back safe, and hope that time moves slowly, so that every minute he isn’t back doesn’t mean he isn’t returning at all. That something has gone terribly wrong. You haven’t dared to think about what will happen if Din doesn’t return. What you will do with the ship – have it impounded or sold or try your luck getting to a nearby planet where you may be able to find work in the docking yards to work off the debt. Whether you go to look for him. You wouldn’t even know where to start. You know the child senses your unrest, and it makes him temperamental. You feed him, little torn up pieces of a rich, spiced dough you had bought the day before. You are too nervous to eat yourself. You think you can hear time ticking away all around you. A deadline ringing in your ears.

Night is sudden when it comes. And the shadows in the docking yard turn long and cover the ship. You hover at the edge of the ramp, but you do not want to close it. Din could return soon. You think you imagined the noises the night. So you keep the ramp lowered and a blaster by the side of your cot. The child clambers up with you and curls against your side between the plates of Beskar. He dozes there but does not sleep, moves restlessly through the night. Hours slipping away.

You must sleep because you wake to the sound of someone calling out and you jolt upright. Have the blaster in your hand before you are aware of where you are. Think someone has returned in the night. And you can hear the echo of shuffling footsteps against the duracrete floor. The voice calls again, and you are out of bed, dropping the blaster back to its spot on the crate nearest your cot and pulling on the helmet as you move, get to the edge of the ramp. Had left even your boots on the night before, too scared you would be roused by strange intruders you cannot see. But the voice is familiar.

Din.

You stumble in your run towards him, glad of the armour and the helmet that you can go straight to him. He is only just inside the door of the dock and is edging around the wall furthest from you. You move quickly down the ramp, across the floor. Your heart sings in your chest. Relief that he is back. Until his leg buckles and he falls to one knee. Grunts and throws a hand out to try and steady himself against the wall nearest to him. You break into a sprint. Realise, as you get closer, that he is too pale. There is a beaded line of sweat along his forehead and upper lip. That the braid in his hair is pulled badly and his jacket falling at one side. His rifle crooked at his back.

You reach him as he tips sideways, get your arms beneath his and catch him against your chest plate. He groans as he slumps, winces when you try to move him. You are saying his name, over and over, trying to get his attention. Hoping his eyes will focus. Instead they are glassy and unseeing, half closed. You shift behind him, holding him up with an arm under either of his, tilt his body back against yours so you can try to lift him. He is slack, falls back and his head lolls. Tears of panic well in your eyes, block your throat, and when he is no longer hunched forward you see the stain of blood along his side. So dark it is almost black. Bleeding through the three layers of his clothes and onto the sleeve of the jacket where his arm had been clutched over the wound.

You try to move him without jostling him, without doing anything which would cause the fresh wound to rip and tear, but your arms are shaking. You move without thought, without a plan, just know you have to get him somewhere safe. The door to the dock hisses shut behind you both, sealing out the outside world. You stumble, almost drop him, somehow manage to pull him against your chest and get up the ramp onto the ship. Hit the control pad over and over with your elbow when you are inside until the ramp finally begins to close. He is so heavy in your arms, is head tilting alarmingly, mumbling something under his breath in Mando’a and slurred Basic. You are still saying his name. He doesn’t respond to it at all. His arm is limp and hanging down, swaying as you walk. And you think you are going to be sick because he needs a medcenter and you have no credits to pay for one. And you don’t know how you will move him without hurting him more.

You set him down on your cot as gently as you can. He still lets out a low, pained sound when you slide your arms from beneath him and it cuts through your chest like a blade. His stream of babbling is cut off while he winces, grips his side, and then his eyes roll backwards and he goes quiet. And you can hear desperate whining from at your feet. The child is clambering on your boot, his tiny hands scrambling and pulling at the laces in his panic, his huge eyes wet and red rimmed.

“No, little guy.” Your voice is thick with your own fear. “Not now. I need to help him.”

And the child lets out a cry, an awful pained noise. And the force of his emotions hit you without any skin to skin contact, a fierce protective panic which almost cripples you. And as well as your own emotions, the strength of the child’s are too much and you cannot breathe. Have to brace both hands against the cot next to Din and try to focus on something solid. The child does not stop, squeezes his eyes closed and holds a tiny hand up towards you, shaking slightly.

“No,” you whisper, your voice is strangled. “Stop. I need to help him.” And when he does not stop you try again, the name his father calls him. “Ad’ika, please.”

The child makes a low cry. Lowers his hand. And the feeling begins to fade. You think you are going to be sick inside the helmet from the force of the child’s fear coupled with your own. But you have no time, no time to think about what you might do, because you lift the child off your boot with shaking hands and are running towards the compartment next to the one where the Mandalorian stores his weapons, and yanking it open, and pulling it apart to get to the medkit. Thank every star in the galaxy that you had restocked them fully on Garel. Grab the spare as well. Don’t know – don’t care how much bacta you have to use to fix him. Know that you will fix him because there is no other option. Spare cloth falls from the cupboard as well, a tin full of liquid drops and spills onto the ground and you do not stop. Almost trip back to his side.

You pull his jacket to the side, roll up the shirt beneath and the undershirt beneath that. Feel dizzy as you have to keep pushing the shirt up – higher and higher, to see the full length of the cut. Long and deep and seeping black blood from his hip up over his stomach and to his ribs. As long as the Mandalorian’s forearm. So deep that every ragged breath makes the torn flesh quiver. Can see the redness of muscle beneath. The skin is grated, as if the blade was serrated, or the hand which held it shook. You pull a strip of cloth from the medkit and press it over the cut, your eyes fill with tears when Din cries out dimly at the pressure, but you hold steady. Watch as the black which bleeds from the wound soaks through the cloth. Makes it sloppy and heavy with it. Stains the leather of the gloves. You pull them away and throw them to the ground with the bloody cloth.

The edges of the wound are visible at last, only briefly. More blood seeps from within it and covers the skin again. But you have seen the space around it, shake your head to clear it. Had thought at first that the blood had stained the skin black around the cut as well but now you see it. The edges of the wound do not stop, and the black is not from blood at all, but is dark with infection. Can see it spreading up through the veins away from the cut. Black and awful, like lace beneath his skin. And you realise your whole body is shaking, not just your hands, and the lump in your throat has spread and strangled your heat so tightly you are sure it must not be beating at all.

Poison.

He is poisoned. You can see it even as you watch, climbing away from the cut at his side. You pull the shirt up in the middle, see the faded ends of black in his veins as they climb towards his heart. His stomach is damp – smeared with blood and beaded with sweat. The skin pale all around the black map of lines beneath. Ribcage shuddering with each breath. You pull more cloth from the medkit and press it over his side.

The bed dips with a small weight and you whip your head around so fast it should hurt. Would hurt if you could feel anything at all. The child crawls up the length of the cot from Din’s feet. His tiny face set in determination. You think, dimly, that you should try to protect him from this. From seeing his father like this. But you do nothing to stop him. Somewhere know that you can’t rob the child of his chance to be with Din in these moments, and that this tiny creature, this child has seen the worst of the world already. You sink to your knees and begin to pull apart the medkit. A bacta patch and spray for the cut. You almost drop them both, but you don’t. Turn back when Din utters a quiet moan.

The child has both his hands out, either side of the long, jagged cut, his eyes squeezed closed. You yell. Try to grab the child before he can further the damage. But your hands are thrown, thrown so hard your knees scrape across the metal flooring, some invisible force gripping them as tossing them to the side as easy as if you were a rag doll. The child tilts his head back, ears twitching, and when you get close enough again you think you are dreaming. Think it cannot be real because the climbing edges of the poison have stopped, are no longer reaching for Din’s heart. Retreat back down his ribs and towards the cut. You watch as the black edges of the poisoned skin begin to lift and lighten beneath the smears of blood, as the skin begins to knit itself back together. Din lets out a watery gasp, his eyes darting wildly around the room as he is pulled forcefully back into consciousness. The child grunts quietly, and without thinking you reach for him, rest your hand against his tiny head.

The ship pulses. Warps in and out of reality. And you can’t breathe. Open your mouth to desperately try to suck in a breath. But there is no air, no relief. Everything is rippling, and the edges of your vision are becoming grey. There’s an awful sound, a screeching noise, so loud you think the Crest must be sliding along the floor of the docking yard. You look down at Din and the child, but the grey is swirling and shifting and clouding and you cannot see. Realise suddenly the swarming mass in your eyes is like dust. Shimmering like Din’s viroblade. And you think you are choking on something but you cannot move, cannot feel your arms or your legs or your lungs to even know how you would be choking.

Darkness. Total and complete.

Drip.

The sensation is like falling. Just the darkness and the screeching of metal. The ringing in your ears won’t stop. Is getting louder and louder. Then your back hits hard against something firm and the dust clears, and you suck in a breath that burns like laser fire all along your side. A different kind of blindness, tinged red at the edges. But you can see. See your own reflection staring back at you in the Beskar. The Mandalorian stares down at you through the visor.

“Din?” You rasp. High and light and strangled with pain. So much pain.

The Mandalorian jerks and moves. Tilts sideways. Or maybe it is your vision swimming again. Drip. You breathe again but it is like something is crushing you, an impossible weight against your side. Your whole stomach tearing apart. The Mandalorian’s hand are moving, warp into your sight and then you feel them against your face. Bare and hot and harsh. Holding either side of your cheeks, so big that they press at your temples and into your hairline and under your jaw all at once.

“Kar’ta, nir cuy’ olar.” His voice is so deep. So much. And you cry at the sound of it wrapping around the sound of his language. Din. He brushes at the tears with his thumbs. “Cuyir ibac gar?”

The pressure at your side is worse, grows worse. And the words you are trying to say to him are swallowed by it. By the scream of pain, which is tearing its way from your side, up through your chest and out your mouth. Burning you all the way out. A full sob following it. Collapse against the covers, contorted by your pain. You don’t know how Din got back to the dock it is so bad. Think it is going to kill you.

“No. No. No, no, no.”

Din grips your face and you feel the press of the helmet against your forehead. Can’t bear to open your eyes again. The cool of the Beskar is familiar and soothing. You think you smell lemons.

“No,” Din says it. Over and over and over. The helmet lifts away right as there is another wave of pain. You shudder. Hear his voice catch. “No, don’t. Don’t. Change us back, please. Please, don’t let this happen to her – ”

“Din – ”

Your throat is in a strangle hold and the rest of the words are stuck just before your tongue. Linger there. Your blood pounding in your ears. Drowning out everything else. Drip. Except that. The awful sound. And the distant sound of Din’s deep voice, speaking in Mando’a.

“Nir kelir hiibir bic. Nu jii, nu am mhi jii. Gedet’ye.”

Drip. And then you feel a throb, a terrible pulsing all around you. And you think at first it is still the awful pain in your side, but your vision feels full of dust, clouding and swarming down your throat. Drip. You try to move your arms, to claw at it and stop it, but your hands don’t move. Feel yourself begin to float again between realities. And you see your own warped panic in the reflection of the Beskar. There’s another pulse of the world and more dust and when it clears you feel the weight around your temples and neck of the helmet. Hear Din begin to scream in your voice before everything fades.

Drip.

. 

Kar’ta, nir cuy’ olar: Heart, is that you?

Cuyir ibac gar?: Is that you

Nir kelir hiibir bic. Nu jii, nu am mhi jii. Gedet’ye: I will take it. Not now, don’t change us now. Please.

. 

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[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 11

Ok so this ones a bit more of a slightly slower chapter and kinda does a bit more world building sooooo yeah. BUT ALSO THERES SOME WHOLESOME FRIENDSHIP MOMENTS SO THATS GOOD

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now​ Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading and editing!

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Silence. Complete and total silence fell over the call as both Tubbo and Wilbur tried to process what Tommy was saying. The moment was tense, and loaded with unanswered questions. 

“Fuck…” Wilbur muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. He was in a state of shock. What was he supposed to do? He had just learned that two of his friends were trapped in another dimension, and that said dimension was going to be destroyed because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Yeah. I feel like that sums it up pretty well.” Tommy had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, or even feeling. There were so many emotions raging through his mind. Anger at Wilbur for talking to Dream. Relief that Tubbo and Wilbur weren’t screaming at him. Fear that his home was going to be destroyed.

God, he was sick of being afraid. He had felt nothing but fear and terror for a week straight, and thought that he had grown numb to it. He had thought wrong. The raw terror that coursed through his veins in that moment was nothing like he had ever felt before. It was cold and numbing. It made him want to just crawl into his bed and lay there. He felt completely and unbelievably hopeless. At least during the war there had been a small sliver of hope. A tiny beacon of light in all the darkness. It had been what kept him going. Now, there was nothing. He had no way of fighting back. No way of even contacting his friends and seeing if they were safe. He hated it.

“So. What’s the plan?” Tubbo’s voice shook Tommy from his intrusive thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for Tubbo’s optimism, despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless. “How are we gonna stop him?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“We’re not just going to let him kill all those people, right? There's gotta be something we can do. Some way that we can stop him.”

“Tubbo, I-” “No, he’s right.” Will interjected. “We aren’t just going to sit around and do nothing. Besides, if what you said is true, then our Tommy and Dream are stuck there as well. We’re not just going to let them die.” 

“You guys don’t get it, do you…?” Tommy muttered. He knew his friends were trying their best, but the hopelessness of the situation was suffocating. It was like he was standing in a pool of quicksand, slowly being dragged down. Each time he struggled and tried to resist, he was only dragged down farther. He was tired of fighting it. “You can’t stop him. We don’t even know where he is.” Tubbo was silent for a moment. “What if we switched you guys back? We could figure out the command that swapped you in the first place and just run it again.”

“I mean, you can try. But wouldn’t you need Dream’s computer?” 

A sly grin spread across Tubbo’s face. “Who says I need access to his computer to access the server? Just give me a few minutes.” The sound of typing echoed through Tommy’s headphones.

He frowned, confused as to what was going on. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to access the server.” He didn’t offer any more information.

“While he’s doing that, maybe you could tell us more about what happened to you. How did you even end up involved with Dream? From the sounds of it, he's fucking terrifying,” Wilbur asked. He figured that the more they knew about what was going on, the easier it would be to try and solve their issue. 

“I… He used to disappear for really long periods of time. Eventually I got curious. I saw him leaving and tried to follow. He caught me pretty quickly. He… he said that he would kill everyone in L’Manberg if I didn’t go with him and do what he said.”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Dream force Tommy to go with him if he hadn’t gone far? Something wasn’t adding up. “What-”

“I’M IN!” Tubbo yelled out, cutting off Will’s question. 

“You’re in?” Tommy asked.

“I have access to the server.” Tubbo explained. “Maybe I can try and contact them.”

“Wait, what do you mean you have access to the server?” Wilbur said.

“I have the console open, wait- here.” Tubbo started sharing his screen on Discord. 

A black background filled with white text that neither Wilbur nor Tommy could understand appeared on the screen. It was filled with coordinates and commands that were constantly being updated every couple of seconds. A waterfall of white text was filling Tubbo’s screen. He could see a grayed out command that read ‘/msg TommyInnit hello?’.

“Hey, wait a second,” Wilbur said. “Tubbo’s commands aren’t working.”

“Do you think it could be some sort of activation key?” Tommy asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“...Exactly. How did you know?” Tubbo asked.

“I think I may know where that is.”

~~~

“What the fuck?” Tommy held the wooden bow in his hands, staring at the blinking light. “Have either of you ever seen this kinda thing before?”

“Why the hell would I know anything? I’ve been here as long as you have,” Dream remarked as he took another drink from the glass bottle. 

“I dunno, maybe because you’re the server owner?”

“Just because I’m the server owner doesn’t mean I know what's happening.” 

“Well, maybe you should.”

Dream only rolled his eyes. Tubbo squirmed a bit. Seeing Dream acting so casual was… unnerving. The lack of a mask only made it ten times worse. Until an hour ago, he had never even seen the man’s face. It was always just the blank mask, cold and emotionless. Seeing the raw emotions on his face was somehow scarier than not seeing them at all. A shudder ran down his spine. 

“Tubbo? Any ideas?” 

Tubbo jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Huh? O-oh! No, I don’t know. Sorry man, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” 

A sigh escaped him as he ran a hand over the leather wrapped grip. The blinking light stared up at him, almost taunting him in a way. That was when he felt it. A small raised section of the grip, right where his finger would sit if he were holding it normally. He frowned. “what the fuck?” 

“What? What is it?” Dream asked quickly. 

“I dunno. It’s just a weird bump…”

“Oh. That's it? It's probably just from the other Tommy making his bow wrong or something.” 

Tubbo shook his head, quick to defend his best friend. “No… Tommy was really good at making weapons. He wouldn’t have done something like that. It’s not like him.” 

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he ran his finger over the strange button. On a whim, he pressed down. 

A scream was torn from his throat as a robotic voice played in his ears. “Hello?” it said. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Tommy?! Tommy are you ok?! What happened?!” Tubbo was instantly on his feet, trying to check on his friend. His instincts kicked in. Everything that had kept him and his friends alive during the war came rushing back to him as he frantically checked Tommy for any wounds or injuries. Nothing. No visible cuts or bruises. Maybe it was mental? Or a type of potion. Or maybe even- 

“Tubbo, Tubbo! I’m fine! I promise. Just a bit startled.” Tommy’s voice brought his train of thought to an abrupt halt. Tubbo sat back down, his face burning with shame. 

Dream stared at them in concern. “What happened?”

“Did you not hear it?” he furrowed his brow, trying to put the pieces together.

“Hear what?” 

“That weird voice thingy. I pressed the little button and the robot lady started talking.”

“You’re hearing voices now? Are you alright?” 

“Yes, Dream! I’m fine!” he cried out in exasperation. The blinking light on the grip of the bow had gone dark, leaving nothing but a regular wooden bow.

~~~

“How do you even know that they’re in your world?” Wilbur asked. Tubbo had already set the command in the server, and now the three of them were just waiting for some sort of results. Now, they were all just sitting around, trying to get more answers out of Tommy. “I mean, for all we know they could be floating out in the empty void of nothing.”

“No, I’m sure that your Tommy and Dream are in my world. Dream seemed really confident about it. He said something about it already being tested or whatever. 

“Tested? Tested on what?”

“I don’t know. He never told me. All he said was that the test had worked.”

“Alright, I’m just gonna be the one to say it, thats sketchy as fuck.” Tommy couldn’t help but jump. Tubbo had been so quiet while they were talking, he had forgotten that he was even there. “I mean, I get that he’s a sketchy guy, but that's just weird.”

Tommy took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart. “Yeah… It really is. I learned pretty quickly not to question him though. He was fucking terifying whenever he got asked too many questions.” A shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the blank, emotionless mask. God, he hated that fucking mask. Every night, he was plagued with nightmares about it. 

“Tubbo, I think your command went through” Wilbur said, his voice cutting through the fog that was starting to build in Tommy’s mind. He looked at the screen. Sure enough, the grayed out text was now gone, replaced with a blank text box. 

“Someone must have found the trigger. Hopefully it was your Tommy and Dream. I’m not sure what would happen if someone else managed to get their hands on it.” 

“Either way, it should have only sent the message to Tommy, right?” Tubbo asked.

“I don’t fucking know. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the console.”

“Probably because you’re a little gremlin child.” Will couldn’t help but make the snide comment. Maybe he just wanted to pretend, if only for a moment that nothing had changed. Maybe he was searching for a way to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure. 

Either way, the comment earned him a cry of protest. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” 

“It means that you are a little gremlin boy. What else would it mean?” Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t quite keep the smile out of his voice.

“Alright, you son of a bitch, you listen here. I could beat your fucking ass in a fight, no questions asked.” Despite the harsh words, Tommy couldn’t help but grin. The friendly banter was familiar to him, and he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. In a world where everything was strange and foreign, it felt nice to have something that stayed consistent. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it”

“Alright. Next time I see you, how about we 1v1? Me versus you.” “Uh, I don’t think that's a really good idea,” Tubbo interjected.

“What? Why not? I’ve beaten him before, I’ll do it again.” Tommy’s voice was dripping with confidence. He may not have been nearly as strong here as he was back in his home world, but he still knew how to fight. Not to mention, he had spent most of the past week trying to get his strength back. 

“I don’t doubt it, it’s just that fighting someone is generally considered not good here”

“Are you serious? That's so lame! Back at home we used to spar all the time!” 

“Yeah, not here. Unless you’re in a fighting style sport, sparring just isn’t something that you do here” 

“Ughhhh, that’s so dumb.” he grumbled.

“So, uh, what’s the plan now?” Tubbo asked. On the screen, another /msg command was pulled up, ready to be sent. The message section itself was blank, but it was clear that Tubbo was itching to try and communicate with his best friend. 

“We just input the command, right? We swap you back, you guys could go home, and we get our Tommy and Dream back. Boom, problem solved.” Wilbur couldn’t help but feel slightly confused. Hadn’t that been the plan from the start? 

“I uh… I don’t know the command that he used,” Tommy admitted. 

“Fuck.”  The three sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like hopelessness starting to drag him down again, pulling him down into the pit of quicksand. 

“What if we brought them to the console? That way they could actually respond and we might be able to come up with some sort of plan?” Tubbo suggested. 

He weighed his options. On one hand, it was the best bet they had. Hell, he was about 99 percent sure that Dream would have left some sort of clue as to what the command was, if only because he enjoyed the thrill of the danger. On the other, who knew what kind of trap Dream had set up. Knowing him, he would have expected them to do exactly this. No. No he couldn’t think like that. This was their one chance. It was his only chance at saving his home, at saving his friends. 

Swallowing his fear, he nodded. “Yeah. Alright, that sounds good.” 

~~~

“What the fuck?! Why is it blinking again?!” The small red light was back, blinking up at the blonde teenager annoyingly. 

“Press the button again?” Dream offered helpfully. 

“What? No! I’m not pressing that fucking button again! You press it if you’re so curious!” he tossed the bow onto the table carelessly, the loud noise making Tubbo flinch. 

Dream grabbed the weapon and looked over it. “Alright, maybe I will. Where did you say it was?” 

“On the grip, right next to the little light. It's really small though, you have to feel it.” 

“Got it!” with a soft click, Dream pressed down on the button. 

Instantly, the robotic voice echoed through Tommy’s mind once more. The voice was cold and metallic, with no emotion whatsoever. It reminded Tommy of pretty much every computer generated voice he had ever heard, only this time, it echoed through his skull. He could feel his teeth vibrating from the sheer volume of it. His eyes shook, causing the world to vibrate and jitter. It reminded him of when the bell had been rung, only this time he was the only one could hear it. 

“Hey Tommy, it's Tubbo. This other Tommy just told me and Wilbur everything that’s been going on. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of there, alright? Apparently the other Dream is going to really fuck everything up if we don’t stop him. And by that I mean he’s going to delete the server and most likely kill all of you and I really don’t want that to happen. So we’re gonna stop it!”

The voice continued for a bit, explaining what the plan was and where he and Dream needed to go, and Tommy did his best to keep track of Tubbo’s directions. “... Anyways, we really miss you man. I swear, we’re gonna figure something out and get you guys home. Yours truly, big T.” The voice stopped, and Tommy blinked. Tears pricked at his eyes.

He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he did understand one thing: there was hope. He might be able to go home. Tubbo and Wilbur were going to bring them home. 

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

[maskeraith]

big eldar scrolls on line post about what i thought about it

may have some spoilers for the morrowind storyline and sidequests idk also I am inevitably gonna compare it to ffxiv a lot as it’s the only other mmorpg I’ve played good luck

Writing this after finishing writing the rest wow this got too long there is a tldr though haha

so the first thing I will say is that eso’s overworld exploration and sidequesting blows ffxiv away completely, there is so much to do and fun to be had in eso simply by exploring around! the enemies feel cool to fight, there are delves and solo dungeons to just stumble across with quests in there, skill points just lying around if you look hard enough, gathering spots that you can just gather from without having to be a specific profession or something, WORLD bosses that you need a group to battle just OUT there it’s really cool! Ffxiv does have some really beautiful environments but in terms of actual stuff to do, there’s literally just fates and they’re pretty shit to be honest, and i guess the sightseeing log??

and sidequests! all my time in the game was spent in the morrowind area (vvardenfall I think? my eso lore is zero watch out) and every sidequest I did had a really engaging storyline. They do mostly amount to fetch quests and slay monster quests in terms of gameplay with some puzzle moments sometimes, but the storylines were captivating enough to justify most of what you had to do. compared to ffxiv which is BLOATED with boring fetch quests with uninteresting storylines eso has it figured out. the characters you meet and their dialogue is great and sometimes you can even make choices which affect the final outcome of the quest which is always fun (your character having the personality of a brick aside). I actually think I enjoyed certain sidequests more than the main story of morrowind they’re that involved

Also there are world events but I didn’t really get into them, there was like a huge tornado which spawned some enemies that give you massive exp, but my horsey was too slow and I only got there at the tail end because they’re great for farming so every player in the world goes there and kills them instantly they seem cool though

in terms of lore, I’m not someone who is super interested in the lore of the elder scrolls universe but I found myself learning a whole lot of very crazy stuff from the friends I was playing with who DO know all about it, and I will say that if the lore of the elder scrolls universe interests you in any way you’ll love this game! so I learned that there are Eras in this universe, and eso takes place in the second era I believe. The other main series games all take place in the third or fourth I think, so eso is able to like set the groundwork for those games and explain the history behind stuff going on in all the main games, which I think is a really good idea, perfect for fans of the lore and stuff. Like I remember the funny talking dog from skyrim and he’s like the primary antagonist of the morrowind main story like woah

The combat is where I think the game started to fall off for me, again with the ffxiv comparison but it just wasn’t reaching levels nearly as interesting as the combat in that game for me.

Firstly, there’s no tab targetting (unless there’s a setting in the menu somewhere i missed?) you actually aim all your attacks, single target, aoe, whatever. for me this made it harder to be able to gain a situational awareness, and I have to keep my camera aimed at the boss and I’m not able to move it around to see if there was anything else going on. I do see how aiming your attacks could actually make the game more appealing to some people, though, as it does give a sense that you are more actively participating in the battle and not just standing there pressing buttons, but for me this sort of thing doesn’t make any difference

The second thing was the amount of abilities you have at any one time - you have 10 abilities and 2 ultimates slotted at any one time. Five and one ult are active at a time, and you have to swap weapons (it’s as easy as the press of a button) to switch to your second bar with the other 5 and 1 ult. This does make the game a lot more accessible I think, but it also means the stuff you get to do is just gonna be a lot more straightforward and spammy compared to the interesting and involved rotations you get in ffxiv. as a tank, I set myself up to put three dots and a debuff on the enemy and then spam my one damaging attack, until I had to reapply the stuff again, and that was basically it. I had some tank cooldowns too like a shield, heal, a grab and so on. I did look up the Most Complicated Rotation to see how hard it could get, which seemed to be stamina nightblade, and even that has “Ability x11″ or something in its rotation

Simple rotations would be fine for me if the bosses themselves were more difficult or complicated to compensate, but honestly nothing was any more difficult or involved than ffxiv. On youtube I’ve watched like 5 dungeons and a trial on the hardest Veteran difficulty, and the dungeons don’t look like anything more than what you would get in other mmos. The trials looks like really great content honestly, but there’s no party finder for them as far as I know so you have to manually gather 11 other people which is never something I enjoy trying to do in multiplayer games lol

i also didn’t super appreciate that the game wanted to like hide a bunch of info from me by default? like a few hours in I complained that it was impossible to know when my dots and self buffs ran out because all I had was like little particle effects on the enemy/myself to go off, and my friends were like “oh yeah you need to turn on these tooltips in the options” like huh?? I need to know this stuff come on

There is some really cool stuff in the combat though! Every player has like a basic bash attack, which can interrupt certain attacks, and then a basic heavy attack, which can knock down staggered enemies (they get staggered if you interrupt them) so there is more to do than just your abilities.

One thing I will mention though, is that I think a huge part of the combat is resource management - you spend stamina/mana on your abilities and if you’re not careful it’s easy to run out. As a tank, blocking takes up stamina, and sometimes I would not manage it correctly and run out and be unable to use my anything for a bit. You get it back by doing heavy attacks (contrary to every game ever) and other like passives unique to whatever build you might have going on. A lot of the game’s difficulty in harder content might come from this, but I didn’t get that deep into any of that sort of thing

I think the way you pick your abilities is really cool - you level up a whole bunch of different skill trees at a time, and you can slot any ability from any tree at any time (other than weapon skills specifically, you must be weilding that weapon) into your 10 slots. Your class has three unique trees, then there’s like a tree for every weapon type, for mage and fighter’s guild, this weird guild called the undaunted, werewolf and vampire, probably more I forgot about. All of them have 5 skills that you unlock as you level that tree, and all of those skills can be morphed into one of two “strong” versions of that skill once you level that specific skill. So there is a huge amount of player choice in how you build your character! I remember getting loads of advice from my friends but also just thinking to myself “but this skill though...” (i am so sorry). There are loads of passives too but they’re kind of lame and you just sort of put your excess skill points in them to make yourself passively stronger. I am sure there are Optimal builds, but playing casually you can literally just do anything

I do think levelling them can sometimes be a pain though because like, if you want the fifth ability in Skill Tree 1 but you don’t really use any of the first four, well actually you do have to start using a bunch of those skills you don’t want because you gain more exp for that skill tree the more of its skills you use, sort of a minor thing I guess

Finally I will talk about how I really do not like the execution of the loot system... So you get armour sets in this game and if you wear 5 of them you get a very significant passive, like whenever you crit you summon a big ghoul to shoot acid, or all of your aoe abilities also taunt. I think this is a super cool idea in theory, and it allows for even further personal customisation of the kind of character you want to play. However..

So the max level is 50, but the real max level is like 180 or something because at 50, you continue to level up but each level just gives you a point to put into these big huge bonus passive skill trees which continue to increase your stats up to the 180th point or something like that. In eso, though, you can go anywhere and do anything and all the enemies are scaled to you. But, it’s actually that you are scaled to the enemies - while below level 50, you get an invisible buff that makes you as strong as a level 50 character. This means that every level you gain, you actually get slightly weaker, if you’re not updating your armour.

Armour drops at whatever level you are, up to the cap of 180 where you are the strongest you can be. So ultimately what this means is every piece of armour you get up until you reach the level cap will quickly become obsolete. Every time I collected 5 pieces of a set and got a cool passive, all I could think was “this will be fun for about 4 levels” because I knew I’d need to swap it all out for stronger stuff. Essentially I felt locked out of seriously farming for the gear sets I wanted until I reached Max Max level, which made everything I collected seem pretty pointless to me.

Also, always being as strong as a level 50 character did kind of make it feel like I wasn’t really levelling up at all? It’s why I broke my rule of “I will get to level 50 before stopping” because I actually was level 50 all along, I got all the abilities from my skill trees that I wanted and ran a bunch of dungeons with them and I was in the 30s, but there were no other skills I could really see myself swapping out so I was essentially “max level”, as far as I was concerned.

so yeah tl;dr these are my two main opinions:

This game is an awesome time running around and exploring the environment, doing quests and running dungeons! If you’re a fan of the elder scrolls world and lore it is absolutely a must play!

Customising your character’s skills and armour sets is a lot of fun, but I do think it comes at the expense of not having a really finely tuned, coherant combat style, it feels a lot like I’m Just Hitting All The Buttons.

The end lol

[silenceinthenull]

Swapped

So, I just saw someone post something about Gordon and benrey swapping bodies and it made me remember this little thing I did a while back. I had totally forgotten about it. I decided to post it here because I thought it was an interesting concept.

The first thing he noticed when he wakes up is how everything aches. He knew the ground was uncomfortable but he didn't think it would fuck him up this bad... until he realizes he can feel the ground... not the ground through the HEV suit gloves but the actual ground... he jolts up only to crumple back into himself. That was far too fast to be normal and his bones ache even more.

"Hello Gordon! It would appear you and I have swapped bodies!"

He blinks at that and looks up at... himself... he's very confused for a moment before what dr. Coomer actually said sets in... is this how dr. Coomer lives?

"I'm sorry for the pain my friend, I just took the opportunity to dispose of some of my clones while in this much more spry form! I simply forgot you would feel everything they felt."

He slowly stands up, wobbling a bit as all his movements seem more robotic and sharp now.

"It's... it's okay dr. Coomer. I'm just glad you don't always feel like this... so how did this happen?"

"We seem to have stumbled upon the black mesa mental manipulation experiments! More specifically you were hit with what has been labeled the swap gun! I was never informed how far they got into these experiments."

Gordon looks at himself. He never noticed before how absolutely ripped dr. Coomer was... it was kind of terrifying... but as the pain faded he was glad for it. He was glad dr. Coomer was so strong, if he wasn't they would have lost him long ago.

"Where are the others?"

"They feel down the shaft!"

He points to a flooded elevator shaft on the other side of the room. Gordon approaches it, only to be pushed in. His body seemed to react immediately as he dived in, swimming around the busted elevator at the bottom into the hall below and up a second elevator shaft into a new room where bubby and Tommy sat, talking about beyblades or something... or test tube babies/puppies... Gordon honestly couldn't tell.

Something pushes him out of the water and he looks over, confused. Oh. Dr. Coomer, in his body, climbs out of the shaft with ease, picking Gordon up and carrying him to the others... holy shit how did Coomer make his body so strong.

"Were you aware the power movement function on your suit was deactivated Gordon?"

"... my what?"

"Your power movement function! ..."

He starts rambling about the function Gordon didn't even know he had as if he was reading off another one of his wikipedia articles. He sits Gordon next to the others and does an awkward squat. It's very hard to sit in that suit...

"Gordon, I'm uncomfortable."

"Yeah... it helps if you use an actual chair, or just lay out..."

Dr. Coomer flops face first onto the floor.

Gordon groans, just knowing his nose is going to hurt when he gets his body back... if he gets it back anyway...

And he's suddenly laying on the floor, nose uncomfortably pressed against the concrete. He slowly stands up.

"Hello Gordon! I'm comfortable!"

"... me too dr. Coomer. Me too."

Gordon was getting tired this. One more claymore and he was going to lose his fucking mind! He peeked around the corner, looking for any more of those telltale blue lasers. Only to be very startled when he was sudden standing behind himself and he just pulled the trigger, watching as a bullet whizzed past his own head detonating a claymore just out of range of hurting any of them.

He froze for a second as everything seemed to move in slow motion, soldiers rushing towards them as the dust settles and without thinking he pulls the trigger again, barely even having to think about aiming everyone who was rushing them almost immediately drops.

He takes a deep breath and there's a quiet electrical buzzing in his ear from the rails below them as he looks at the others, coomer, bubby and himself, meaning he's in Tommy's body... everything felt... different, but in a way he couldn't describe. Things he didn't even notice before were suddenly at the forefront of his mind, like the way the now empty gun in his hands clicked quietly as he continued to pull the trigger, or the way standing on the electric rail actually felt... really nice... or how that electric buzzing from the rail wouldn't stop!

He got off the rail but it didn't help. Why was it suddenly so loud? He covered his ears but it really didn't help. He pressed the clicking gun to his head and that blocked out some of the noise but it was still there.

"It's so quiet... is it always like this for you mr. Freeman?"

He looks at Tommy.

"I... I guess? It's... its different. So loud... so constant... how can you stand... how do you think... how do you live like this?"

It was so much he just wasn't to rub his ears until they stopped working... Tommy quickly pulls him away from the rails. The pressure of the hand wrapped around his wrist feels... nice... but wrong at the same time. He doesn't understand.

Tommy reaches into Gordon's coat pocket and pulls out what looks like the launcher of a beyblade. He gently takes it and does the ripping motion and suddenly all Gordon can focus on is that sound. He quickly takes the toy and starts doing the motion over and over, blocking out the rail and making the most heavenly sound he's ever heard over and over.

Gordon is immediately pulled out of it when dr. Coomer puts a hand on his shoulder and he immediately feels very wrong. He moves out from under the hand and stares at him, confused.

"Are you alright Gordon?"

"I don't... know... everything seems like it's too much!"

Even speaking felt so wrong! The words leaving his mouth felt bad! He covers his mouth, quietly stomping his foot. That helped. That thud in his leg. That helped.

"You need to stop mr. Freeman. You're going to hurt yourself. Stomping like that isn't the best stim."

Gordon looks at him, confusion clear on his face.

"I know it feels good, but you're damaging the muscles."

Benrey walks over, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Tommy! What's up bro? Rails getting to be too much? Need some soda to chill?"

He stops in front of him with a smile, not a smirk or anything mocking like he would give Gordon and holds out a soda.

"That's a great idea! Drink that mr. Freeman! It will help!"

He's still confused, and benrey is too now, looking between Gordon and Tommy. Gordon takes the soda and opens it. Oh, nice sound, good. Oh, nice feeling! Better! The fizz touching his lips has him in heaven again and he can even relax a little. No wonder Tommy had soda for lunch.

Bubby huffs and walks ahead and Gordon feels bad for holding them up. So bad tears start welling up and he doesn't know why it hurts so much... benrey pulls out another soda and Gordon takes it without hesitation, trying to soothe the sadness that seemed to bubble up from nowhere. It... might of worked? He doesn't know because the next moment he's back in his body looking at Tommy quickly wipe up his tears.

"... is there any way we can help you manage that tommy?"

"I'm okay mr. Freeman... I know... I'm used to it."

He gives a reassuring smile and Gordon believes him, but wishes he could help more. He decides Tommy gets first dibs on soda from now on.

Gordon was in a tube... the last thing he remembered was the lights going out and then nothing... he looks around for a way out but he really was trapped. It was frustrating. He felt trapped and alone... eventually he heard voices, dr. Coomer, Tommy and... his own? Was he in bubby's body!? He didn't feel any different... soon they walked into view and he saw it... dear god...

"You just had to fuck up!"

Gordon jumps a bit and stares at himself.

"You couldn't just take your punishment like a man, could you!? Had to make me suffer in your place!"

"... you let them cut off my fucking hand!"

He remembers the voices after the lights went out, what bubby said... he remembers the pain.

"That wasn't the plan! They were just supposed to rough you up a but!"

"And!? You sold me out to the fucking military!"

And suddenly everything feels different. It feels wrong, everything hurts, he's lightheaded. He looks down before he registers anything else.

"And now I'm back in my fucking tube!"

He stares at the stump. He feels sick. He wobbles a bit but dr. Coomer catches him and brings him to the console. Gordon looks at it, seeing the release button and just pressing it.

"... you're just going to let me out?"

"... you suffered more then enough..."

And they moved on.

Gordon sighs as they headed down the elevator, clutching his aching stump. He was very Surprised to see the scientist. After everyone was introduced everything shifts again... he closes his eyes, please don't tell him he's in benrey... he slowly opens them and looks at himself... darnold? He turns back to his body who is looking around, shocked.

"... were you hit by the swap gun?"

"Yeah. Do you know anything about it?"

"Nope, just that sometimes you don't swap back... better fix up your body just in case then!"

He happily walks over to a barrel and easily picks it up, bringing it to his desk and laying it down so it's at a very specific angle before popping open a compartment on the suit Gordon didn't even know was there and pulling out... a silly straw?

And he just starts chugging... Gordon is actually impressed! He downs the entire barrel in less then a few minutes. Gordon didn't even know his body could drink that much that quickly... and as soon as he finishes Gordon is back in his body... just in time for the pain...

Gordon was getting tired of random swaps with people, so he starts experimenting. With dr. Coomer's help he has figured out that a swap is initially when he feels helpless, exhausted and/or extremely afraid. He wonders if there's a way to weaponize this? He doesn't have long to wonder though when they run into a particularly irritating soldier once again, this time he's holding a fucking dog hostage and the second Gordon sees that it happens. He looks at himself and at Coomer, who immediately understands what happened and tackles his body to the ground. Gordon grins and gets off the elevator, bringing the remote for the turrets to Tommy.

"For once that had excellent timing."

"Huh?"

Benrey is suddenly there and very confused?

"... forzen... bro... why are you here? Aren't you still pissed about that irate gamer thing?"

Forzen starts ranting from beneath Coomer and benrey pouts a bit before seeming to realize what's happening, before pretending he didn't realize and going up to Gordon and kissing him straight on the lips.

"Sorry, we aren't working out." And he walks away, leaving everyone stunned.

"I dumped you ass yesterday you angry video game nerd fanboy freak!"

Everyone is immediately looking at forzen again, giving benrey the opportunity to sneak away and melt a bit as he internally squeals in delight. He kissed feetman! And feetman doesn't know he knew! He got to kiss his crush before they have to... end his game... he's not letting that spoil his mood. He revels.

Gordon returns to his body a few moments later and forzen bolts.

Gordon was fucking tired as they approached the scientists, exhausted when they told him what he had to do, and done when the mystery briefcase man showed up again... and that's when it happened. Everything made sense, he felt powerful, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted!!!

And then he was back to normal. He looks at the man, who he now knew went by G-man Coolatta... Tommy's dad is creepy and all powerful... Gordon was just going to do what the guy wanted. He did as he was told.

Gordon was exhausted, afraid and helpless. He was honestly Surprised the swap only just happened. It felt... strange. His size felt too small, his shape felt wrong and it felt like he was wearing a full body suit... what is benrey? He stared down at his own body as the other's panicked and benrey just stared back.

"... hug?"

At first he wanted to say fuck no but... that was his pleading face... benrey genuinely just wanted a hug and became he was in Gordon's body he could read him like a book... he gently picked benrey up.

"... what do you really want?"

"... you shouldn't be here bro."

He looked scared. He looked hurt. He looked... lonely... Gordon gently placed benrey against his chest. He can't really hug benrey when he was this big, but benrey could hug him... and he did... and it was really nice... Gordon wishes he knew how to take them all back. He wishes he could soothe benrey's fears and loneliness...

He gently picks up the other members of the science team, looking for there they needed to go. He set them all down once he found it, and looked for a way to follow them, Surprised he hadn't swapped back yet.

"How do I make myself small again?"

"Huh? Just... just want it..."

He didn't know what that meant... after a moment of trying he seemed to do it, becoming roughly benrey's current size. They all move forward, together.

They don't swap back until the boss fight... it hurts when it happens. It feels like he's being ripped out of benrey's body and forced back into his own. Gordon feels sick when he realizes why... they had to kill benrey. If they didn't they would never get out...

"What happens if we don't fight? Do we really have to?"

"Yeah bro... gotta... gotta be the bad guy. Gotta be mean..."

"I don't want to do this."

"Doesn't... doesn't matter bro... I'm sorry..."

He doesn't hold back...

~~~~epilogue~~~~~

I'm gonna do the epilogue now.

It had been about a week since the party when Gordon's head started pounding.

"Uh, hey bro... been a while hasn't it..."

And Gordon doesn't even question it. He's too relieved. To happy in that moment. They didn't kill benrey! Or... they did... but he was still around!

"Yeah feetman! Hitched a ride when my body kinda fizzled. Think I could... maybe stick around? Keep you from having anymore... dick slips and shit..."

Gordon just laughs and nods to himself. He can't wait to tell the others. Benrey can't either a little bit of sweet voice flows out of Gordon's mouth, shocking him a bit.

"Oh cool! I can still do that!"

And Gordon just rolls with it. Why the fuck not you know? Makes as much sense as anything else he's been through. He opens his mouth and just lets it flow! His room quickly fills up with it.

[kaweeella]

Hi, if you still want writing requests, a Danganronpa idea would be Himiko's magic going awry and making Maki swap bodies with Miu for a day.

Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it!

~~~

It started as a good day, it really did.

Maki sat at a bench, Himiko was showing off her magic to Tenko and Angie across the path, and Miu was talking to Kaede by the stairs. It was one of the only times she let herself lower her guard.

Never again.

“And for my next trick,” Himiko said. “I will make Miu and Maki switch places!”

Maki stirred only a little at the mention of her name, but she kept watching the clouds. It was likely going to be a warm training session that night.

Himiko spun her stave, a dark red glow appeared on one side and a pink one on the other. She twirled it faster as the two lights snaked down to the other ends.

She excitedly looked over to them, only to be met with disappointment. Maki was still on the bench and Miu was still by the stairs, though she stumbled some, holding onto Kaede so she wouldn’t fall over.

“Nyeh…”

“It’s alright, Himiko! It still looked cool!” Tenko tried to reassure her.

“I’m sure you’ll get it next time!”

“Hey, what just happened?” Maki walked over to them.

“I tried to make you and Miu switch places, but-” She tried to explain but quickly got cut off.

“What are you, a dumbass?”

“Maki!” Tenko stood up. “That’s really rude!”

“Are you blind? I’m not Maki.” Not Maki said.

“What’s going on?” Miu said coldly as she and Kaede approached them.

“What the fuck?!” Not Maki exclaimed.

“Himiko, I think your spell did really work!”

“Nyahahaha!” Angie laughed. “Good job, Himiko! God smiles upon you!”

“What the fuck did you do?” Not Maki asked.

“Well I tried to cast a spell to switch Miu’s and Maki’s places, but if Tenko’s right, then I guess it didn’t switch you physically.”

“If you’re going to use me in one of your shows, at least ask first.” Maki- real Maki- said, venom in her voice.

“So you can fix this, right?” Kaede asked.

Himiko nodded and spun the stave. It started glowing again, though the lights didn't move.

“Enough with your shitty glowstick, I don’t want to be stuck as this flat fuck.”

“Do you want to die?” Maki looked at her. Even if she wasn’t in her body she’s scary as hell.

Himiko tried to block out the talking. If she strained her eyes she could see the lights moving towards the other ends at a snail’s pace. She stopped spinning it and examined them. Even though she stopped she could still see the light moving down at an agonizingly slow speed.

“What’s wrong, Himiko?” Tenko asked.

“Nyeh…” She shuddered and looked at Maki to read her expression. There were none. “I have good news and bad news.” She shrank in on herself a little. “I can’t undo it right now, b-but it’s temporary.”

“Fucking dumbass! Try harder!” Miu reached out to grab the stave.

“Nyeh! Stop! You might make it worse!”

“Nothing could be w-aaa!” Maki grabbed her by the pigtails and yanked her back.

“When are we going to be back to normal?”

“When the two lights reach the other side.” She pointed at the stave.

Maki hummed. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

Himiko looked at it in thought. “At the rate it’s going, maybe about a day?”

“Maki-Roll!” Kaito ran up with Shuichi not far behind him.

“Great…” Maki muttered.

He wrapped Miu in a bear hug. She panicked and…

“Ow!” … she kneed him. “Maki-Roll why’d you do that?”

“Because that’s Miu. I’m Maki.”

The two look confused. Like they were doing a hundred calculations at once in their heads.

“Himiko fucked up her spell.” Miu said.

“It’s temporary!”

It was quiet for a minute before Kaito spoke up again. “So are you still on for training tonight?”

“Training, huh? What kind of training do you do together late at night, huh?”

“Me and Shuichi exercise. Kaito mostly just sits there.”

“Hey!”

“Riiiiight. Well whatever it is, leave me and my body out of it.”

“It’s probably for the best. It’s going to be warm tonight and I’m not in the mood to listen to Kaito whining. And…” She looked down at ‘herself’. “I’m not quite used to training in these conditions.”

Miu snickered some before coming to a realization.

“Miu what are you thinking?” Shuichi asked, though he had a pretty good idea of the answer.

“Why don’t you try some training with me? I’ve always wanted to know if I’m good in bed.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Oh come on, it felt so nice when you pulled my hair.”

Maki stared daggers into her.

“What, you got nothing?”

“I’d strangle you but you’d like it too much.”

“Now, now, we should not resort to violence. As long as we have God on our side all will be well!”

“Right! Besides, it could be worse. You might’ve switched with a degenerate man.”

Maki sighed. She was right, there were worse people but Miu wasn’t a great option to be the one piloting her body.

“Don’t think I’m happy to be in this situation either. I want to be back in my own gorgeous body.”

“This is so weird.” Kaito whispered to Shuichi.

“Nehehe~! What do we have here?” Kokichi strolled over.

“Not now, Kokichi.” They told him.

“Just go away, we’re busy right now and the last thing we need is a little shit fucking around.” Miu said.

“No I…” He paused. “Maki, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Kaito whispered.

“Tell me whaaaat?”

“No, he can figure it out on his own.” Maki said.

“Come on, Miu. A dumb slut shouldn’t be-” Before he can finish Maki grabs him by the neck. “Hey,” He stammered, “I’m not into that. Or you.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, dumb or slut?”

“Both.”

“Why~? They fit you so-” She tightened her grip.

“Maki-Roll, calm down you might actually kill him!”

“Maki?” Kokichi asked with strained breaths.

She dropped him. “Yeah. Maki, and never call me a dumb slut again.” She leaned down to his eye level.

“It’s kinda hard to take you seriously when you look like this.”

“Maybe you’ll take this seriously.” She grabbed his scarf and headbutted him, the goggles left marks on his forehead.

“Damn, don’t break my shit!” She looked at the goggles. When she saw that they’re unbroken she nodded before breaking out into laughter. “You got him pretty good. Serves you right you little bitch.”

“So,” Kokichi sat up. “Maki is Miu and Miu is Maki. What. The fuck.”

“It’s magic!” Himiko said.

Maki sighed. “I’m going to go lay down.” She grabbed her key off of Miu and headed off to the dorm.

“See you, Maki-Roll!”

“Hey Miu,” Shuichi said. “Did Maki give you your key?”

She thought for a moment. “She has my fucking key!” Miu ran after Maki.

“No matter what she looks like, she’s a dumb bitch.”

“Hey!” Miu yelled as she reached Maki. “Give me my key.”

“Right.” She paused. “Where do you keep it?” She dreaded the answer.

Miu reached down into her shirt and took out her key. Maki looked at the shirt.

“How do you keep it in there? I could hardly feel it.”

“An inner shirt pocket. With it you can sexily and comfortably store things in your cleavage.”

Maki thought for a moment. “That’s pretty clever.”

“Huh?! I mean… of course it is! I thought of it.”

“You can’t even see the stitches. This could’ve been pretty useful in my missions.”

“I’m gonna take that as a good thing!”

“Yeah. Honestly your inventions don’t really make sense to me but they do tend to be pretty good, when it isn’t used for sexual purposes.”

“My inventions are always incredible!”

“I feel like the underwear remover is a bit unnecessary.”

“Everything I make is entirely necessary!”

“Ah! Maki!” They saw Tsumugi running toward them. “Maki, I have a photoshoot, do you have a weapon I could use?”

“Are you planning to use a real weapon for a photoshoot?”

“No! No! Of course not. I just wanna be as authentic as possible so I’m gonna use it as a reference point. So can I?”

“No.”

“Huh? But I’m asking Maki-”

“Alright, here's what’s happening, Four Eyes. Himihoe fucked up her spell and now I’m Maki and she’s me.”

She stood for a moment then gasped. “This is like something straight out of an anime! How do you reverse it? A special item? Words of true caring? A kiss?”

“Himiko said it would likely take roughly a day.”

“Of course! A timer. In most anime the pair have to pretend to be each other, leading to weird situations that some find hard to watch, but instead of that you two hardly have any hesitance telling me. Though even if you did try to act as each other it’d still be plainly obvious, no offense.”

“Right.” Maki said. “I’m going to bed.” With that she continued to the dorms.

Kirumi was cleaning in there and looked over when she entered.

“Ah, Miu, you look tired. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No.” She went over to her dorm and Kirumi gave her a strange look.

“You do know that is Maki’s room, right?”

“I know who’s room it is.” She didn’t look back at Kirumi before she went in and closed the door. She fumbled taking off the boots and laid down. She wasn’t even going to bother with anything else.

“Strange.” Kirumi muttered to herself.

It felt like an eternity. She stared at the ceiling, just thinking, until there was a knock at the door. It was Miu. She looked behind her, noticing that Kirumi was no longer there and it was dark out.

“What is it.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d let me stay in here… with you?”

“Why?”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters a lot if you want to sleep in my room.”

“Well if you really care that much… being in my room when I look like this upsets me.”

“It upsets you to be in your room when you look like me.”

“Well…” She fidgeted. “I base a lot of myself and my life on how I look, and my room is a reminder that I’m no longer that.”

Maki wasn’t expecting that. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“Fine. I’m going to need help taking these belts off anyway.”

“Oh you wanna undress me~?”

“I can’t sleep with them on.”

“Really? You slept just fine when Kaito came by to get you. Had to be physically restrained to stop pushing the fucking button.”

“I didn’t realize I went to sleep.”

“Well you did. Wow, your room is pretty empty.”

“I don’t keep many things. Not where I live.”

“Right, your assassin thing. Have you ever seduced your mark?”

“No.”

“Well of course, no one could have my sex appeal.”

“Miu. Miu we are teenagers.”

“What of it?”

Maki threw a pillow at her. “Just go to sleep.”

The night was uneventful. Miu had some trouble adjusting to the pigtails but when she did she fell asleep quickly.

When Maki woke up, she found she was on the other side of the bed when she tried to get up. She looked over and saw Miu. Miu as Miu.

“Hey, get up.”

“Huh? What the fuck do you want?”

“For you to go back to your own room. We’re back to normal.”

She grumbled some. “Fine.” She dramatically got up, grabbed her key and boots and headed out the door, though she paused in the doorway. “Hey Maki? Thank you for letting me stay over.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it.” Maki smiled, though she had her back to Miu so she couldn’t see. “You can be the first to test my next invention!”

“That’s unnecessary.”

[obscure-sentimentalist]

“I need a hug. A six hour one.”- Flommy 😊

[Thank you, Anon!! Another one I’m months-late on, but with the way this idea decided to go, I do think it was well-suited for the wait, experimental as it is. Using (but not actually featuring) Klarion the Witchboy as a plot device seems rather Halloween-y to me. ;-)]

From the Comforting Cuddles Starters list

Loath as Tommy is to think it, sometimes he misses the days when the evildoers of Starling City were simply morally-corrupt businessmen and crime lords running the too-close-to-the-surface underworld. Obviously, still bad guys, but their powers were at least material and predictable: money, weapons, martial arts training from a mystical murder cult that also offers a minor in megalomania. And for the most part, Tommy wasn’t in direct confrontation with those seedy types, spending more of his time adjusting to the nauseating shift in worldview they presented, and then hanging on the sidelines to lend the occasional hand in the crime-fighting process.

Straightforward, unsurprising, fairly distanced—those are the types of villainy with which Tommy knows how to deal. But the world’s gotten weirder, and so have the enemies; it figures that he’d be thrown face-first into the unknowable machinations of some magic-wielding, whackadoodle…

“…C-list Scooby-Doo villain,” Felicity seethes, voice finally puncturing Tommy’s thoughts like a splinter. She turns sharply on her heel to pace in the other direction, the clack of her footsteps echoing off the basement walls. “I’m gonna get him.”

Though she isn’t facing him, Tommy glimpses her hands going up, claw-like, in front of her, and shaking in an imaginary stranglehold. It’s an adorably familiar enough gesture that it almost puts him at ease.

(Almost.)

“And his little cat, too,” Tommy agrees, slipping from his tongue as an instinctive reaction of humor. As if nothing’s… off about this picture.

“Yes, the cat!” Pale blue-painted fingers snap, leaving the index finger triumphantly pointing up. “You know I love kittens. But that thing? Last time, when it tried to…”

“Last time?” Tommy repeats, head tilting in curiosity. He belatedly realizes the rudeness of interrupting like that, but the discomfort of not knowing has a firm grip on the wheel. “You’ve dealt with this Puritanical nightmare child before?”

In the space between questions and answer, Tommy drifts the remaining few feet over to Felicity’s workstation. He doesn’t dare sit in the chair—that’d just be courting death, or at least a truly withering glare—but leaning against the table provides him a… grounding, of sorts. It’s the best thing he can get until this whole situation is resolved and reversed.

Depending on the response Felicity has for him, maybe that’ll come sooner than expected.

Both the interjection and the movement make Felicity’s spine snap pin-straight—an instantaneous shattering of illusionary comfort—and she slowly pivots to glance back at Tommy from the opposite end of the floor. Yet as useful as it might be to her, too, Felicity doesn’t make a single move towards the bank of computers and empty chair (towards Tommy), instead hugging her arms to her chest and rooting herself in place.

“Oh, yeah, a… a couple times, now,” she stumbles, biting her lower lip. “I don’t know, there’s just something about us—my team—that keeps him coming back on chaotic reunion tours. But this is the first time I’ve been his plaything of choice, and he’s never done something quite of…” she extricates one hand and waves it aimlessly around her “…this magnitude, before.”

“The Great Felicity Swap,” Tommy murmurs absently. It’s neither a joke nor a judgment, just a phrasing of the situation, but Felicity shifts her shoulders at the words.

“We’re going to fix this,” she says, quiet yet firm. “Even if Klarion’s gone to ground, or is hiding somewhere out of all of our reaches, we can still set things right without him. I refuse to believe anything else.”

Although she says “we” throughout those first two statements, that last part just solidifies what Tommy hears instead. It’s Felicity not voluntarily wanting to do this alone, but also fully prepared to do so—her expectations of being denied help higher than the ones she has of help being offered.

It’s painfully recognizable—one of the similarities Tommy wishes he wouldn’t find between his… universe’s Felicity and another’s. But at least the consistency confirms that the move he’s about to make is the right one.

“Well, I’m not really the guy with the plans around here, but I make for a pretty good gofer,” he starts, pushing off of the worktable and taking a few casual, tentative steps forward. “Tell me what to look for, what buttons to press, what you want for a meal break, and I’m your man.”

In yet another instance proving the importance of connecting his mouth to his brain every once in a while (and maybe looking into a script editor), Tommy cringes the second that last bit slips out and Felicity’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.

Lending a hand to your maybe-sort-of-just-starting-to-call-each-other-by-the-terms girlfriend’s doppelgänger (whose relationship with your own is a pretty big gray area, because she won’t say much except that she cares a lot about him) is the polite thing to do. Doing so in a way that sounds like you’re offering more than just help, thanks to poor, unconscious word choice, is just plain stupidity.

“He does that too,” Felicity says after a moment’s pause. “My… my Tommy.”

Surprised by the reaction, Tommy tentatively cracks one eye back open to meet Felicity’s gaze. “I should have figured that foot-in-mouth was a chronic, multiversal affliction.”

She flushes a bit at that, eyes flitting to the side in embarrassment. “That’s not… I mean, you’re right, you both have that in common,” she stumbles hurriedly. A deep breath in, and she gets back on track, facing Tommy again with a knowing look. “I was actually talking about the other thing—about not being the one with the plans, only good for being pointed in the necessary direction. You don’t get to pull that on me.”

Tommy’s mouth audibly clicks shut at that, any jokes or affirmations of his original statements shriveling in his throat under the weight of Felicity’s stare.

“He minimizes his skills like that, makes himself just the right size and shape to fit with whatever anyone else needs him to be,” she explains, plain and simple. “He’ll play up a few things, make jokes here and there about how looks and charm and the like come effortlessly to him, because that’s what people expect.”

Tommy shifts his shoulders in an odd sort of shimmy, as if those observations have physically burrowed under his skin and set off an unbearable itch. It’s one thing to be called out so plainly by someone he knows so well, and a whole different one when it’s an alternate version of said person. It’s both the discomfort of being so easily read by a relative stranger, and the realization that if this other Felicity knows, then there’s a fair chance that his does, too.

Unsubtle as it must be, Felicity sees his twitching, and her face goes soft.

“The cooking, though, that’s a talent he owns in full, and will make it well-known that he’s the only one he trusts in the kitchen,” she notes thoughtfully. A split-second of silence lingers between the words, before she rushes, “Which is fine by me, because I’ll just burn everything anyway—at least that’s not as bad as making a full dish that’s arguably toxic, unlike some people…”

Amusingly, they both shudder at that—Tommy at the mere concept, and Felicity presumably at the memory of an actual offending meal. They each catch the other’s mirrored motion, and their gazes snap to meet in faint embarrassment.

It doesn’t last, as Felicity flaps a hand to break the connection and get herself back on track. “Point is, he’s capable of so much more than he likes to tell people, and I’m willing to bet you are, too.”

On that note, she tilts her chin up and offers Tommy a pointed, challenging stare. It’s an achingly familiar look—a Felicity Signature—offered to anyone who might cross her; not a dare to prove her words right, but an offer for her to wipe the floor with the recipient and their flawed rationale of why she’s wrong.

No matter where she comes from, Tommy’s not taking that opening with any Felicity.

That said, he does have his own, different sort of reply.

“See, this goes both ways, because I know my Felicity,” Tommy points out, leaning in as closely and carefully as he dares without making Felicity uncomfortable. “How she’s always prepared to take on things by herself, even when she doesn’t have to. When she has someone—and usually multiples—in her corner to back her up.”

Tommy tilts his head and raises his eyebrows knowingly, before continuing with quiet sincerity. “We can figure this out together, but I’m still on board with my original offer. Tell me what you need, and I’ll handle it.”

Felicity makes as if to argue, but after a moment’s consideration, she purses her lips and narrows her eyes suspiciously back at Tommy. “Turnabout is fair play, huh?”

“Something about this whole situation has to be,” he notes, grinning cheekily.

Felicity rolls her eyes fondly at that, but her expression goes quietly pensive a moment later. “I guess there’s one thing I can think of,” she murmurs almost absently, gaze drifting down as her breath hitches.

“Anything,” he assures her. A hand comes up to hover over her shoulder, though it doesn’t land.

The motion is still enough to snap Felicity back into her thoughts.

“I need a hug. A six hour one,” she blurts, and almost immediately turns red. Her head shoots up whiplash-fast, eyes wide (and lightly sheened) and lips already tripping over an apology. “Wait, no, forget I said that, that’s way too weird. We’re… not the wrong versions of each other, that sounds mean, but this you and this me”—she flicks a finger between the two of them to illustrate—“we don’t have any sort of relationship. Sure, hugs are perfectly platonic, and it’s not like we’re really strangers, but six hours is a long time for anything physica- agh!”

“I did say ‘anything’,” Tommy cuts in before Felicity can spiral any deeper (or either of them can turn too red at that last bit), finally settling a hand gently on her shoulder. “And maybe six hours is a while, but let’s just not put on a time limit at all. However long you feel you need.”

Looking at Felicity Smoak—no matter the universe from which she hails—and claiming that the fight has gone out of her is a concept Tommy would never dare verbalize, but something does seem to recede enough for the one in front of him to fall against his chest. His arms lock supportively around her lower back as her hands press at his shoulder blades for stability, and so they remain.

Not even a six-hour embrace would be convincing enough that the one in their arms is theirs, but maybe a fraction of that time can confirm a friend in the familiar, and comfort enough to carry on.

[stxphxn-strange]

you can’t fuck me over because i’ve already fucked myself: just some shrimp gremlin angst that basically gives villain!stephen some origins

a/n: steve and clint act like rude hoes in this, it’s not steve or clint friendly obv, there’s lots of swearing, mention of bullying and implied mentions of self harm and also the ironstrange scene in this is cheesy as fuck but in a soft and sweet kind of way i guess? idk enjoy friends 

The Avengers’ Compound (Upstate New York), 4:45p.m. 

“We’re not getting anywhere with this motherfucker.” Typical, stupid, impatient Clint was as always ready to toss the Sorcerer Supreme down a flight of stairs. As if he was even strong enough to do that… Stephen had been working out, thank you very much. 

“I hope you’re aware that I can hear everything that you’re saying!” Stephen replied in a sing-song voice. “By the way, I believe I asked for shrimp when I was brought here? I don’t see any shrimp, and I also don’t see Tony.” 

“You think we trust Tony to interrogate you? He can’t separate his egotistical brain from his short fuse from his damaged heart. Makes me wonder why he even attacked me in Siberia.” Fucking Steve. 

“He didn’t attack you, he defended himself after you attacked him,” Stephen snapped. “How many times must we have this conversation? I don’t have time for your continued stupidity.” 

“When are you going to get it through your head that just because you corrupted Tony doesn’t mean that I’ll be as easily swayed?” Steve asked. 

Stephen saw Clint put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down and made a mental note to inquire about their personal relationship later. That would really push some buttons. 

“Strange, we’re asking you questions and it’s in your best interest to answer,” Natasha said coolly. She didn’t even look angry like her colleagues, she just looked like she wanted to be literally anywhere else. Big fucking mood. 

“Am I below your paygrade now, Romanoff?” Stephen asked. “Big plans tonight after this interrogation is over?” 

“That’s none of your concern,” Natasha replied. 

“Well I think that you’re all below my paygrade, and since I’m planning to have dinner with Tony tonight I’d appreciate it if we could move this bullshit along,” Stephen said. “I’m going to try and make baked shrimp with garlic butter and lemon and fresh herbs. I saw the recipe on Pinterest, and I’ve never made it before but if you guys have recipes I’d be willing to swap with you.” 

“We don’t want anything from you except information.” 

“Bold of you to insinuate that shrimp recipes aren’t information, Barton!” 

“This fucking guy! Natasha I swear to god I’m going to kill him,” Clint snapped, pacing around the room. 

“You’re not going to do that for two (2) reasons: one (1), you do need information from me even though I’m not going to give it to you, and two (2) you all know that you treat Tony so poorly that making another wrong move will irrevocably piss him off, and then who will you be able to use for money and shiny new weapons, hm?” Stephen countered. “You don’t care about Tony, that much is clear, but—”

“I’m sorry, you expect us to believe that you do care about Tony?” Steve asked. 

“That’s a rich question coming from you. If you’re really a symbol for honesty, you should know that I’m telling the truth,” Stephen replied with a shrug. “Is this rocket science to you guys? Of course I love and care about Tony, and I mean that genuinely and with every fiber of my being.”

“And if he doesn’t feel the same about you?” Natasha asked, feigning innocence. 

“I know he does,” Stephen said firmly. “He told me that he does this morning… and he also said so last night.” 

A lot happened after he finished talking. First, he was slapped across the face. While still reeling from the slap, someone snuck up behind him and pinned his head to the desk he was sitting at… and then the memories rolled like a movie’s credits. 

“Why are you the way that you are, you annoying fucking villain?” Steve sneered. “What made you into the monster that you are?”

Stephen took a deep breath, trying to hide his panic at the fact that he couldn’t move his head. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever used size to their advantage and bullied me, Steve?”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad for you,” Steve replied, pressing Stephen further into the desk. “I have no sympathy for evil.” 

“Then why do you exist in a cloud of self pity and self righteousness?” Stephen asked. 

“If you don’t shut up I’ll snap your neck,” Steve threatened. 

“Do it bitch. You still don’t get it, do you? Nothing you could ever do to me would compare to pain in the past, whether it was self-inflicted or not,” Stephen replied. 

“I’ll turn you into an empty shell of a man that not even Tony will love or fix.”

“Aww really? Being an empty shell is so boring.” 

++++

The Avengers’ Compound (Upstate New York), 5:23pm

Stephen must have blacked out, because when he woke up the Avengers were gone, and there was something soft between his head and the desk. He immediately recognized it to be the Cloak, which wound a corner around his left hand in support. 

Wait… Levi hadn't been with the sorcerer when he got to the compound, so how—

His thoughts were cut off by the entrance of a very angry Tony. The mechanic’s glare softened the minute he saw that Stephen was awake and watching him. 

They both spoke at the same time, their tones full of fear but for different reasons. 

“Where are they?”

“Are you alright?” Tony crossed the room and sat across from his sorcerer, softly cupping the man’s face in his hands. “I sent them away. Who hurt you?”

“Do you mean today or in general?” Stephen asked, trying to keep his tone light for a reason he didn’t even understand. Tony knew about his traumas, why pretend like they didn’t exist? 

“Fuck, Steph I’m sorry,” Tony murmured, leaning in to kiss him. “None of this would have happened if I was here, I wouldn’t have let them, but they didn’t tell me they were interrogating you.”

“I know baby, it’s not your fault,” Stephen said gently. “I’m obviously not happy, but it’s not your fault.” 

Tony made a face of disbelief. 

“It isn’t, I swear,” Stephen continued, leaning further into Tony’s hold. “They said some unpleasant things, things I know they wouldn’t tell me if you were around, but Steve also doesn’t seem to like it when I try to get a rise out of him. Serves him right for wasting my goddamn time, and serves me right for being obnoxious. But you know that I’m only like this because I barely know who or what I am.” 

Tony stood, somewhat abruptly, and pulled Stephen into a hug. “You’re my shrimp gremlin, and my amazing partner who makes me laugh and smile even on my worst days. You’re kind and charming and funny, and all of that’s what makes you Stephen, at least to me. And it’s not exactly safe here, so will you please portal us home so I can spoil you by way of shrimp sushi and a massage?” 

“I was going to make dinner tonight,” Stephen said with a little pout. 

Tony leaned up to kiss him. “I know, you giraffe, but you deserve to be a little spoiled today, and I know shrimp sushi usually helps.” 

“You really do love me,” Stephen marveled. 

“Of course I do!” Tony replied. “And I also know how to make you feel good, take that as you will.”

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Everything Burns- Chapter 17

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: Murder, Knives, Guns, Extreme Violence 

Word count: 3646

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | - Chapter 16

Chapter 17: Bluffing

She looked over as the Joker moved and she smiled, he was still in his nurse's outfit.

"Will you take that ridiculous outfit off now?" She asked as he grinned a yellow-toothed grin at her.

"Don't you think it's sexy, nurses are sexy right?" he joked giggling.

"Not always and I don't really think the look suits you," she sighed laughing as she sat up fully.

"What about now, Jester?" he cooed, as slowly he pulled the skirt up his leg with one hand, as though teasing her.

She burst out laughing and he frowned. Suddenly he had pushed her back into the bed covering her body with his own, he began to kiss and nibble at the sweet spot on her neck and she moaned at the sudden pleasure. He bit hard on her neck and she arched her back pushing herself against him again.

"Am I sexy now?" he asked and she nodded breathlessly as he kissed her again, his hands moving down her body and she moaned again. She couldn't believe he could actually get her wet even when he was in a nurses uniform. She moaned again as his hand caressed her inner thigh and began working it's way up.

"J" she moaned as he undid her waistcoat and pulled it from her roughly.

"That's Nurse J to you" he muttered as he began to nibble on her ear.

Around an hour later, Joker led Jester down the stairs to help him make another video for the news. She was pleased that after removing all of his clothes upstairs, he had redressed in his normal attire rather than his nurse costume. When she entered the room, Mike Engel was laying face down on the ground, his feet bound at the ankles with a rope that was connected to a pulley that led to a hook in the ceiling. She grinned at Joker as he came into the room behind her, he pulled off his coat and jacket and dumped them in the corner of the room.

Mike Engel groaned as Joker began to pull the free end of the rope, hoisting the news anchor into the air by his ankles. The Joker cackled as he looked at the hanging man strangely bending his neck so as to look at Mike in the eyes.

"Jester, here is going to do your makeup now, Mr Engel" said Joker as though he were the producer of the news channel. He handed Jester a pot of red grease paint and she took it and approached the news anchor.

She began to smear the red pain on the anchor's lips and he groaned angrily.

"Oh don't moan, I'm sure you're very used to wearing make-up for the camera" she laughed as she began to paint a smile that from her angle looked more like a frown. She applied more and took a step back to admire her work before she turned to Joker.

"Mr Engel is ready for his close up now, Mr Joker," she said smiling widely and he grinned at her before giggling wildly.

Joker pulled a sheet off of the table in the corner and handed Jester a spray can.

"This will be his backdrop" the Joker explained as he pulled the cap off the can. Jester nodded as she began to spray the words 'Breaking News' on to the sheet sloppily. There were already a few black spots on the sheet and so some of the letters were blurred, but the Joker looked pleased with her work. He took the can from her and sprayed a few 'Ha Ha's' on the sheet before he dragged it over to the wall behind Engel. She followed pushing Engel slightly so he spun around. Joker laughed as he held the sheet up to the wall, the paint running slightly. Before he frowned and looked at Jester and then Engel before he turned the sheet upside down and proceeded to hammer it into the wall.

"Give these to him, to read," said Joker and handed her a pile of cue cards. She flipped through them quickly while the Joker set up the camera, in front of Engel, flipping it upside down. He pulled the table in front of Engel before he bent so his elbows could rest on the table as he filmed.

"Read your lines," said the Joker as Jester handed Engel the cue cards. She laughed loudly as he took them from her. On the card right at the back was the word Hi Mom written and Joker shot her a grin from his awkward spot. She made herself comfortable on a chair behind Joker and watched.

"Ready Mike," shouted Joker nodding to Engel slowly, but the news anchor said nothing.

"Okay ACTION" said the Joker as he pressed the record button and the red light on the camera switched on. Mike looked down at his cue cards and then up again, as though he didn't believe he was really there. Engel looked over to Jester and she grinned madly, his gaze turned back to his cue cards again.

"I'm Mike Engel for Gotham Tonight" he said, his voice more confident than Jester had expected.

He looked back down at his cue card again. Jester began playing with her knife, twirling it in her hands and Engel swallowed hard.

"What does it take to make you people wanna join in?" he continued dropping the first cue card to the ground causing it to fly over his head.

He looked at the next card, his face sweating. 

"You failed to kill the lawyer. I've gotta get you off the bench... and into the game" Engel said.

"Bench. Game," said Joker quietly along with Engel. A little giggle fell from his lips as Engel dropped the next cue card and began to read from the third.

"Come nightfall, the city is mine," Engel continued.

"Mine," growled Joker quietly a little after Engel, his voice louder than before.

"And anyone left here plays by my rules," continued Engel.

"Rules." growled Joker.

"If you don't wanna be in the game, get out now." said Engel, dropping the penultimate cue card to the ground.

"Get out NOW!" the Joker laughed again.

"But the bridge and tunnel crowd are sure in for a surprise." Engel said after a short pause.

"Ha-ha, ha-ha," said Engel dryly and The Joker giggled wildly again. Before he turned the camera around and switched it off.

"That was very good Mr Engel. You were fabulous!" laughed Jester patronisingly as she spun him around again. Joker undid the tie holding Engel up and they both watched as he plummeted to the ground head first. He was knocked out cold by the time his feet hit the ground and Jester laughed loudly.

"Now, we need to send this off, but I'll wait for the boys to get back first" Joker said and Jester frowned.

"Where are they?" she asked.

"Running an errand, I had some ammonium nitrate left so I thought I'd put it to good use," said the Joker laughing madly, before he closed the gap between them and began to chew on her ear lobe sharply. She purred as her knees went weak and he chuckled before he pulled away. He led her back into the main room of the warehouse.

The Rottweilers had been locked inside an enormous metal crate and Jester went over and opened the door. The three large dogs padded out and she lay on the floor, allowing them to lick her face, the smallest laying in-between her legs and she laughed as she stoked them.

The Joker looked on frowning slightly, these were supposed to be attack dogs.

"You've made them soft" he shouted at her angrily and she looked up from the floor at him with wide eyes.

"These are supposed to be vicious, they are supposed to attack people not lick them" he shouted, approaching her, her eyes went wide and innocent and she sat up to look at him. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her, sighing he smiled.

"You sweetheart, I can't stay mad at you," he said, his grinning widening as she smiled at him. Jester went back to playing with the dogs.

After 3oclock the 'boys' got back, they pulled Engel back to the locked room. They confirmed that both ferries had been filled with explosives and that both had their 'presents' hidden. Their distress signals and phones disconnected.

They had also found an unfinished skyscraper that overlooked the bay and had secured it for Joker. Joker only nodded as they told him of their work before he went about explaining his ‘plan’, handing them all a doctors lab coat.

The boys told Joker that everything had gone well and that the commissioner was actually planning on filling one of the boats with prisoners, some of which were Harvey Dent's most wanted. This piece of news entertained the Joker greatly, and he thumped Grumpy on the back as he laughed.

The weapons table had been raided somewhat and Jester pulled a few items from the relatively small pile and looked them over. She poked at a pistol before picking up a handgun, swapping it for the one she had. Then she spotted something that made the monster insider her mind purr like nothing else. The chainsaw sat on the desk balance on top of other weapons. It was smaller than a standard chainsaw meaning she could probably wield it with just one hand if she wanted.   She snatched up the chainsaw and held it in both hands.

"This is mine!" she said loudly but no one replied and she continued to stare at the tool in her hands. There was a large clip connected to the handle to allow for the item to clip to the pants of the user. 

She had never used one and she suspected she would be slightly useless with one, but she loved it. Though she didn’t know why, she knew she needed this. She clipped it to her shorts so it hung against her hip uncomfortably but she didn’t care. 

There was nothing to do but wait till sundown and Jester sat on the stairs watching the boys playing Poker at the table, the Joker was in his office planning still. Jester sighed heavily and one of the goons looked up at her.

"Everything okay?" he asked kindly and the other goons shot him a strange look.

"I'm bored," Jester sighed her chin resting on her propped up arm.

"You can play with us if you want," he said and again his friends shot him a look, but it was too late as the psychotic clown girl was now bouncing down the stairs towards them.

She pulled a chair over to the table, the metal legs squealing angrily along the concrete floor, before she sat herself upon it at the table. The goon who had spoken to her dealt her some cards and she handed over $100 in cash in return for some chips.

A groan broke out amongst the men as Jester pulled her winnings towards her, her pile of chips was really starting to grow and she grinned happily. The cards were dealt again and again she won. This happened three more times before something hit her hard in the chest and she flew backwards off her chair, her chips flying up into the air. Before she could stand there was a goon known as Happy standing over her. Happy was the biggest of all the goons his shoulders were about double anyone else and he had a strong broad chest. He pushed his heavy booted foot down onto the middle of her chest and she struggled as the wind was pushed from her.

"You think you can cheat us of our money, you're not the boss you can't just do whatever you want." Happy shouted and Jester shook her head as tears began to surface as she struggled for breath.

"I wasn't cheating, it's called bluffing" she choked out.

Happy let out a roar of anger and with his other foot kicked her hard in a chest. For a split second his full weight was bearing down on her chest and as his foot collided, she heard something crack.

She looked up towards the stairs praying to see Jack come down as she struggled to get out from under this colossal man's weight.

"First you carve Shaun's arm and now this. What do you expect us to do? With you prancing around with your boobs out, we are men we are bound to notice. But you think you can do it coz your the boss, well you're not! You are just some pathetic girl who tries to dress like him and god knows why you would even wanna do that. I don't even get how someone like you can even want to be around someone like him! Something must be wrong in your head, you must be crazy or something." Happy shouted at her. As the rage of insulting both her and Jack in one foul swoop filled her, Jester found her strength. She wiggled out enough to bend so she could bite down hard on Happy's bare ankle.

He let out a yell and grabbed her quickly as she rushed up to him. He turned her and held her back against his enormous chest, his arms holding her own at her side's stiffly. She wiggled and he cursed.

"You think, he's gonna save you. You really think he cares about you? He doesn't care about anyone! I don't even think he cares about his own safety. But that's why you do it. Because you think he's gonna come and save you if you get into trouble. Because he once told you, you could play boss. Well you're not my boss, lady. He let you think that he cares, so he can fuck you when he wants. And who could blame him, you are mighty fine. Well now you know, you can't just do what you want cause no one is coming, let alone him." Happy said so close to her ear, she could feel his hot breath moving her hair. Jester continued to struggle, her back brushing against his solid chest.

"You know with you so close, and wiggling like that. I'm having a change of heart, maybe if you give me a good time. I'll forget all about our differences" he cooed quietly into her ear huskily and she felt his new found arousal pushing into her bum cheek. He was clearly suffering from some sort of bi-polar, with his mood shifting so dramatically. She gagged at the thought of him touching her and launched her foot backwards in-between his legs. It made a satisfying thud as her foot connected with his crotch. He let out a yell and his arms realised her, as he bent over in pain.

She backed away keeping her eyes on the enormous man as he reared his ugly head again. She fumbled for her knife as a laugh bubbled up from her manically. She took a step back, readying herself for a fight and collided with something solid. A soft arm wrapped itself loosely around her and began to play with the material of her waistcoat subconsciously. Happy looked up at the man behind Jester and he smiled warily.

"Boss, I was just teaching her not to cheat," said Happy confidently, a smile on his face. Joker let out a cackle which stopped abruptly. Joker moved away from Jester and towards Happy, his hand brushing her side as he passed her.

"Do you remember Melvin, Happy?" giggled Joker cheerfully. Happy shook his head.

"Ah, of course, you're too new to remember that. Well, let me tell you a story. You see Melvin liked Jester, a little too much. I don't really like to share. I guess that is a flaw of mine. Well when Melvin tried to play with Jester, I killed him. Do you understand?" laughed Joker standing very close to Happy, his knife in his hand, hanging loosely at his side.

Happy's face lost its colour and his smile faded as he nodded to his boss. Though Happy was at least twice the size of Joker, Joker was an intimidating man no matter how big his opponent, maybe it was his unpredictably or maybe that he did not care for his own well being, you could hit him as much as you wanted and he would just laugh.

"Good lad," said Joker laughing. "This shouldn't be a surprise then."

Joker launched himself at Happy, though Joker was not as large as Happy, Joker's strength was enough to hold him down as he knelt on the larger man chest and began to carve a smile into Happy's face.

"Why so serious?" Joker asked over Happy's screams to the other goons, who quickly dispersed.

When the large man had finally stopped breathing, Joker stood and wiped his bloody hands on Happy's shirt before moved over to Jester quickly. He took her hand and quickly dragged her up the stairs, shouting to one of the men to clear up the body.

He led her into the bedroom and stopped in the middle of the room and looked her over.

"Okay?" he asked seriously and she nodded.

"Thank you, Jack. It won't happen again" she assured him and he grinned.

"Any time gorgeous. I won't let anyone hurt you. Ever" he said taking her hands up in his and turning them over in grasp, not looking at her as he spoke.

She pulled her hand from his grasp and instead wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body close to his. She closed her eyes and breathed in his intoxicating scent. It took a while but soon Jack wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her closer.

Once the sun began to set, they all headed off for the skyscraper the boys had found, along with the hostages. Jester helped as they taped unloaded guns into the hands of the hostages and forced them to stand as they placed clown masks to all of them. 

The boys were dressed in doctors and nurses uniforms and they sat on the floor in front of the biggest window in the skyscraper, making sure that the cops would have a perfect shot from the building opposite. Joker went up to the highest floor and Jester followed. He stopped himself by a window overlooking the water and stopped and turned back to her.

"Look down there, the last of the people are loading onto the ferries," he said pointing down to the two large boats docked up. She simply nodded and he began to laugh.

"Now all we gotta do is wait," giggled Joker and she nodded again. Her nerves were making her feel slightly sick and a feeling of dread had washed over her. Without a word she went back down a few floors to check the boys had secured the last of the hostages.

She approached slowly as they bound a blonde woman's hands and her blue eyes shot up to Jester.

"I know you!" she said looking Jester in the eye.

She was right, she was a trainee at the hospital, Scarlett had worked with her a number of times.

"You are a nurse! How could you do this?" the blonde she knew as Kate asked, her eyes wet with tears.

Jester couldn't help the laugh erupted from somewhere deep within her and once it had started she couldn't make it stop. Soon she was bent over in hysteria, shaking her head slightly at Kate.

"When the police come, I'll tell them your name!" said Kate boldly, and Jester pulled her gun out of her back pocket and raised it, pointing it towards Kate’s head. 

"You really think the police are coming? And if they do, you think they will realise you are the hostage before they put a bullet through your face." Jester asked, waving her gun at the woman.

"Because if you think so, then I'll just get a head start on them now." laughed Jester.

"Please Scarlett, we were friends," said Kate, her voice shaking, as her tears began to spill.

"No, we weren't friends. I didn't really have any friends, we were colleagues, nothing more. And really you shouldn't beg I have no compassion to appeal to" said Jester as she laughed again and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped a path through Kate's skull and Scarlett frowned as she looked down at the dead body on the floor.

"Well that was not satisfying at all," moaned Jester as she pushed the gun back into her back pocket and turned on her heel to leave. Though the feeling of dread she had been experiencing seemed to float away as the bullet had left the gun, and she now felt rather good as she skipped back up the stairs to find Joker.

The Rottweilers had been brought up to him and were now roaming the top floor. Joker continued to stare out the window at the ferries which were still docked, Jester sighed and took a seat on the floor, the smallest Rottweiler curling up at her feet.

"Who got shot?" asked Joker without turning around.

"One of the hostages, she recognised me from the hospital," said Jester, not looking up as she scratched the chin of the dog in her lap. The Joker didn't say anything and simply shrugged.

After an hour the ferries finally moved off and the Joker moved back to the window again. He watched as they moved further away until slowly one stopped and then the other. They were completely stationary in the middle of the lake and Joker began to giggle to himself quietly.

--------

Thanks for reading if you liked it please, Like and Reblog

[tigerkirby215]

5e Ekko, the Boy who Shattered Time build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

Ekko is a character who’s way better in the lore than in-game. An orphan with a heart of gold doesn’t translate well into this immortal bastard who bursts your entire team before pressing one button to instantly get all his health back. Regardless Ekko has a simple kit that makes him easy to adapt into the meta and very fun to play! And who doesn’t want to time travel?

GOALS

Don't blink! - Shattering time means that you can zip around in the blink of an eye.

I'll help you this time: duck - Batter up! Time stuns coming your way!

If you can’t make the most out of any given moment... - Then you don’t deserve a single extra second. Thankfully we’ll have a lot of chances to make the most out of every single second.

RACE

Ekko is a human but he’s very different from all the other kids in Zaun, making him a Variant Human. As a Variant Human you get a +1 increase to two skills of your choice: choose Dexterity and Wisdom to keep on your feet with your wits about you. You also learn a language and a skill of your choice: your language doesn’t matter much but for skills pick Perception to notice exactly how you can defeat your foe without too many rewinds.

But of course the main appeal of Variant Humans is the ability to get a Feat at level 1, and when it’s time to rewind look no further than the Lucky feat. You have 3 Luck points (or as I like to call them Rewind Die) that you can spend to roll an extra d20 on an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. You can choose which d20 result you want to use after rolling your Rewind Die.

The best part about Lucky? You can use it against enemies too! If an enemy attacks you you can also roll to potentially make them miss! Remember that you only have 3 rewinds which only come back on a Long Rest, so use them wisely!

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Shattering time means you can zip around at the blink of an eye.

14; INTELLIGENCE - Ekko created a time travel machine, as well as many other inventions that would put the Pilties to shame.

13; WISDOM - Ekko stays in Zaun because he cares about the people.

12; CHARISMA - Ekko’s a good kid, as evidenced by how many skins he has.

10; CONSTITUTION - You can take a hit but you’re still primarily an assassin.

8; STRENGTH - You’re a kid who fights with nothing more than a bat. A magic clock bat, but not a heavy bat.

Feel free to swap Charisma and Constitution if you want more health but weaker RP.

BACKGROUND

Ekko is an Urchin but he doesn’t really fit the typical description (he has parents, for one), so I’m going to suggest changing it up some. Swap your proficiencies out for Acrobatics and Investigation to puzzle your way though defeating your foes, and your tools for Tinkerer’s Tools and Smith’s Tools to make your gadgets.

But your feature City Secrets still fits you perfectly, allowing you to easily make your way around the streets of Zaun without getting lost. I mean, you probably do get lost sometimes but your party doesn’t need to know that.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - WIZARD 1

Oh boy my favorite class that I have to spend way too long explaining! Regardless Wizard is the perfectly class for smart kids who use magical time-warping devices. You get proficiency in two skills from the Wizard list and I’d opt for Arcana for knowledge of your Z-Drive and History for knowledge of what happened. Because you were there!

As a Wizard you also get access to Spellcasting. You learn 3 cantrips from the Wizard list: Ray of Frost lets you toss out a Timewinder to slow and damage your foes, Mending will let you reverse any small damage an object may have received, and Message will let you coordinate in team chat. You also learn 6 spells at level 1 with Wizard, but you can prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus your Wizard level:

Absorb Elements will let you resist some incoming magic before returning it with Z-Drive Resonance.

Alarm will let you know that someone’s coming, or rather reverse time when they do arrive to give you time to prepare.

Detect Magic will help you figure out what any Hextech might do.

False Life can give you a Parallel Convergence shield.

Both Mage Armor and Shield will help you defend yourself and dodge attacks you wouldn’t otherwise be able to avoid.

Need a break from all that time warping? Arcane Recovery lets you recover spell slots equal to half your Wizard level, rounded up. Confused how it works? Read it yourself because I’m bad at explaining it.

LEVEL 2 - WIZARD 2

At level 2 you can choose your Arcane Tradition. Oh man if only there was a tradition dedicated specifically to time manipulation... oh wait Chronurgy Magic, which is automatically one of the better ones because it isn’t a school! Regardless Chronurgy Wizards get Temporal Awareness, letting them add their Intelligence modifier to Initiative rolls.

They can also turn back time with Chronal Shift! As a reaction you can force yourself or another creature to reroll an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. The target must use the result of the second roll, and you can choose to use the ability after knowing the original result. You can rewind twice per Long Rest but that should be more than enough to find the perfect way around a problem! (Especially with Lucky helping you as well!)

You can also add two more spells to your spell list: Gift of Alacrity is a Chronurgy-specific spell that lets you prepare to add a d8 to a creature’s initiative check, so you can make sure your initiator is the first in the fight! If you want to slow everyone down however Earth Tremor will force enemies in an area to make a Dexterity saving throw or be knocked prone, and regardless of if they succeed or fail they’ll still be slowed by difficult terrain!

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

What? You didn’t think this was just a pure book nerd build, did you? Nah Ekko’s a special kid who knows Zaun like the back of his hand: sounds like a proper city Ranger! You get proficiency in one skill from the Ranger list when you multiclass, so grab Insight to know what people are going to do after they did it... before they did it!

Class Feature Variants is an Unearthed Arcana that’s soon going to be made official so I’m going to use Ranger features from that PDF instead. Deft Explorer lets you choose from one of three benefits: Roving lets you speed yourself up by 5 feet and also gives you a climbing speed to climb clock towers and a swimming speed to... swim. Favored Foe meanwhile lets you cast Hunter’s Mark a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier without using Concentration, for some more Z-Drive Resonance!

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get a Fighting Style and I figure now would be a good time to talk about Ekko’s weapon: he uses the clock needle of his as a bat most of the time but a club is a simple weapon that uses Strength and does very little damage. As a Ranger you have proficiency in martial weapons so I’m pretty sure that needle could be passed off as a short sword. Fight the short sword in your main hand and nothing in the other, or grab a shield just for the sake of the AC: regardless Dueling will make your sword do +2 damage.

You also get access to Spellcasting! Again! Check chapter 6 of the Player’s Handbook for information on how multiclassing between full casters and half casters works, but you get two first level Ranger spells: to dash in and strike an important target Zephyr Strike will let you avoid opportunity attacks and do an extra d8 damage on hit, letting you ride Z-Drive Resonance out with 30 more movement speed. If you want to stun a target for a beat down Ensnaring Strike will restrain them with vines. Time vines! Yeah...

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

Third level Rangers can choose their Ranger Conclave (or subclass as its otherwise known.) Time to up the Z-Drive with Horizon Walker! Horizon Walkers can Detect Portals within 1 mile of them but that’s not important. What’s important is that they have Planar Warrior, letting them use their Bonus Action to make their weapon do magic (Force) damage and deliver an extra d8 damage thanks to Z-Drive Resonance! (I’ve been mentioning that a lot, haven’t I?)

You also get Primal Awareness from the Class Feature Variants UA for the ability to cast Detect Magic and Speak with Animals once per Long Rest without using a spell slot. Think you’ve got enough magic? Well Horizon Walker Spells give you Protection from Evil and Good as a Ranger spell, and you can add one more spell to your list like Jump to Phase Dive across leaps and bounds... look level 1 Ranger spells suck give me a break! Take Cure Wounds if you want something more useful!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get their first Ability Score Improvement: to keep elusive and hit hard with your bat shortsword get more Dexterity.

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 5

5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack, letting them attack twice when they use the Attack action. It should be mentioned that Planar Warrior will only make your first attack forceful while your second attack will do regular damage.

You can also learn second level Ranger spells like Pass Without a Trace. You’ve got all the time in the world to sneak around, and you’ve also got all the time in the world to figure out why the Ranger spell list sucks so much where you refuse to take Healing spells. At least you get access to Beast Sense and Locate Animals or Plants thanks to Primal Awareness, and Flash (I mean Misty Step) from your Horizon Walker Spells!

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 6

At 6th level you get another ability from Deft Explorer: Canny lets you learn one skill of your choice from a given list, and get Expertise in any of those skills that you know. (That isn’t quite how it works but that’s how I make it work for convenience's sake.) Expertise in Perception will let you spot any valuable junk in the Zaun trash heaps, and Stealth proficiency will help you get away with your loot! You also learn two languages which uhhh... just pick whatever really. You’ve got plenty of time to talk to people.

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 7

7th level Horizon Walkers can phase out of time with Ethereal Step, letting them cast Eternalness for a turn once per short or long rest. Not something that Ekko can normally do but you can accomplish a lot while messing with time.

Speaking of accomplishing a lot you get another spell: Darkvision will help your regular human eyes see why kids love the taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch! Wait...

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement: max out your Dexterity to be as quick as you can when striking down your foes. You also get Land’s Stride to move through difficult terrain without using extra movement, avoid taking damage from nonmagical plants, and have advantage against magical plants. How does a kid from Zaun know his way around dangerous plants? Well you had plenty of time to read up on botany.

(Artwork by Jason Chan, Senior Concept Artist at Riot Games)

LEVEL 11 - RANGER 9

9th level Rangers get access to third level spells. With Primal Awareness you learn Speak with Plants (look, I can’t justify everything in this build. D&D isn’t Runeterra), and as a Horizon Walker you get access to Haste! You can also find your ways around the dark streets of Zaun more easily thanks to the spell Daylight.

LEVEL 12 - RANGER 10

10th level Rangers can get the last feature from Deft Explorer: Tireless lets you spend an action to give yourself temporary hit points equal to 1d10 + your Wisdom modifier. You can do this a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Additionally your Exhaustion goes down by 1 every time you finish a Short or Long rest.

And while Hide in Plain Sight may make more sense for Ekko, Fade Away is just so much better. You can use your Bonus Action to turn invisible for a turn! Maybe you turned back time to the DOTA days when Shadow Blade was an item you build buy? Yeah I know DOTA.

LEVEL 13 - RANGER 11

11th level Horizon Walkers can finally Phase Dive with Distant Strike! When you take the Attack action, you can teleport up to 10 feet before each attack to an unoccupied space you can see. Additionally, if you attack at least two different creatures with the action, you can make a three hit combo against a third creature!

You can also learn another spell at this level, and while there are a lot of options to choose from I’d personally suggest some magic resistance. Protection from Energy will let you put on an Adaptive Helm to resist a certain type of elemental damage.

LEVEL 14 - RANGER 12

12th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement and since your Dexterity is maxed out now would be a good time to hit the books and increase your Intelligence!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 3

Hey remember when we took levels in Wizard way back at levels 1 and 2? Well third level Wizards can learn 2nd level Wizard spells! Blur will make it harder for an enemy to hit you unless they can sense where you really are, and if you want even more chances to turn back time Fortune’s Favor is a spell reserved to Chronurgy Wizards (and Graviturgy Wizards) that lets them give themselves or an ally some more time with an extra d20 to roll in case they’re in danger!

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement: more Intelligence will help with all the time manipulation.

You can also add another 2 spells to your spellbook, and you learn another cantrip! Sapping Sting is a Dunamancy-specific cantrip and it can make your opponent trip! If you want to be even harder to hit Mirror Image will let your time doubles do some distracting for you, and if you want to shake off the time police Nystul’s Magic Aura will make it easy to fool the Pilties.

LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 5

5th level Wizards can learn third level spells: you can already speed up time with Haste but Slow will let you do the opposite to your foes! But if you want to Phase Dive around the battle field some more at risk of glitching out time Blink is the spell for you! "The timeline was already this broken when I found it. I swear."

LEVEL 18 - WIZARD 6

Isn’t it funny how it took this long to get Parallel Convergence’s stun? Momentary Stasis takes an action to force a large or smaller creature to make a Constitution save or be unable to move. The effect ends if they take damage or at the end of your next turn, but that should be plenty of time to either set up or run. You can do this a number of times equal to your Intelligence modifier and regain all uses at the end of a Long Rest.

Speaking of stuns: Hold Person from second level will let you stun an enemy for quite awhile, and you can still hit them! But if you want to turn back your opponent’s spells? Good ol’ Counterspell.

LEVEL 19 - WIZARD 7

7th level Wizards can learn 4th level spells: to travel far and get out of danger Dimension Door will let you warp out of the way. If you want some protection from time warping around you Intellect Fortress is an Unearthed Arcana spell that gives resistance to psychic damage, as well as advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws.

LEVEL 20 - WIZARD 8

Our capstone is the 8th level of Wizard for your last Ability Score Improvement: if you want to maximize the effectiveness of your time manipulation increase your Intelligence, but if you want more combat features from Ranger Wisdom will give you more charges for those abilities.

And you can grab your last two free Wizard spells. After this you’ll have to (gasp!) read! For some retributive damage Fire Shield will make you foes think twice about hitting you. But if you want to bring your foes back to the future look no further than Polymorph, to turn people into dinosaurs!

WHAT I DIDN’T USE

Just a quick mention of some of the options I didn’t use for this build, since I think that a lot of questions will be asked about them:

Echo Knight - Sort of the first thing you think of because... you know... Ekko Knight? But truth is that while Ekko gets a time clone for some of his abilities he doesn’t really use the clone to fight? If you want a time fighter that uses clones however I would suggest my Isaac build (Skullgirls)

Divination Wizard - Some people (especially those without Wildemount) might ask why I picked Chronurgy Wizard over Divination. I mean other than the fact that Chronurgy is literally the time Wizard? Well other than that it’s because while you can reverse time you don’t know the outcome of all fights. Adding intelligence to your Initiative also works to simulate Ekko’s speed.

Artificer - Ekko builds his own stuff but put bluntly none of the Artificers really fit his abilities. He doesn’t make potions, doesn’t have a robot dog, definitely doesn’t have a gun, and certainly doesn’t have an Iron Man suit. (That’s on Viktor!)

FINAL BUILD

PROS

This is how we say “hello” in Zaun - You aren’t exactly the most damaging combatant, but you have tons of tricks to up your DPS, all while keeping safe yourself.

Show me something new! - Investing in both mental stats means you’ve got some really good skills. 24 passive perception, anyone?

One more time! - Who would’ve guessed the ability to rewind time would be a lifesaver? Five rerolls per day, three of which you can pick the result from means that you should never be rolling bad. And you aren’t even a Halfling!

CONS

Good a time as any to act reckless - Double the spellcasters means that you can’t get the best of both stats. While it isn’t a big deal since most of your spells are buffs your low Wisdom score means that you won’t be able to use your Ranger features very often.

That worked in another timeline - Wizard levels and a neutral Constitution score means that your health is subpar to say the least. Rewinding won’t save you from Power Word Kill.

I need to rethink a couple things - In order to get Momentary Stasis we had to skip over Spectral Defense from Horizon Walker level 15. Truthfully while Momentary Stasis is nice for a stun you would’ve been far better off further honing your combat skills: the extra Rewinds from Chronurgy 2 was already more than enough of a boost.

But Zaunites know how to work with what they’ve got. Make the best out of a bad situation and use your wit to outsmart any foe! And maybe chat with the Rogues and the Fighters to see if they’d like some time to be Bards? If you move too fast it’ll be like moving in slow-mo.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[thisartemisnevermisses]

Freefall 6/-

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: angst, fluff, mild smutt, romance, adventure, reconciliation, cursing, anxiety.

Summary:

After the events of ‘Going Under’ you start a new life in Tokyo. Realizing those events changed you in more than one way. You’re not just the nice analyzer girl, you take life in your own hands again. Only to be pulled back into the rabbit whole.

After almost 2 years the Avengers call upon your help. Recapturing the one person that made your life a living hell. Going on a manhunt, or more likely woman hunt, with the one person you hoped to leave behind for good. Will things spark again between the two of you or are you as cold as ice?

A/N: Finally! Well my live isn’t going anything other then yours at the moment, but my live is never been this crazy. Working from home, with two kids and everything else around it...I’m sorry I haven’t updated in such a long time, but I’m going to try update regularly....For now enjoy this new chapter of Freefall...

Chapter 06: Junbi / Preparing

Reuniting with the two ex-spies was something you needed. Seeing that in your line off work, love was possible. Both were madly in love with each other, even after all those years. Just like every other couple they would bicker or discus things, but always reconciled. That was one thing, being a spy had learned them, don’t go away angry or mad. You loved to watch them, but felt sad thinking about your own relationship, or rather the non-exciting fact about it. Focusing on the upcoming mission, became more difficult by the day. The way Steve was behaving around you, didn’t make it any easier. He tried to act as normal as possible, trying to let the events in the quinjet don’t influence him nor you. For the both of you, it looked like it worked, any other could see two fools not giving in on another.

When you left for Ait Rbaa, 3 days for preparations seemed enough, but the day of the charity-event had come to soon. Today was the day, the day you’d try to cross Sharon’s plan. Dressing yourself in a dress Natasha had chosen, you debate with yourself. Were you ready for this mission, could you shut off all your emotions, that had grown with the days. Pretend that what did happen between you and Steve, didn’t. Applying the last bit of eyeshadow to your eyes, a knock interrupts your inner thoughts.

“Y/N, can I come in?” Bobbi asks, awaiting your answer. “Yes, come in Bobbi”, you answer, while looking at yourself in the mirror. “Wow….you sure you’re going on a mission?”, Bobbi compliments, seeing your red dress. “Is it too much, am I standing out?”, the insecurity on your face, “Natasha packed it for me, saying I would need it”, you smile, thinking back at the big smile the redhead had. Giving you the order, only to take the cover of, when you were changing for the event. When you finally did, half an hour ago, you knew why she had asked you that. When you had seen the cut and color of the dress back home, you would’ve swapped it with something more discrete. It was a long crimson red A-line dress with a slit by your left leg. The bodice with sleeves, hugged your figure and cupped your breast perfectly. As if it weren’t enough, your cleavage stopped just above your belly button. The red peep toe’s making you stand tall and elegant, but were a challenge for you, this was a height you weren’t used to.

“Were do I keep my gun?”, you ask no one particular, eyeing yourself in the mirror. Bobbi laughs at you, “That’s the thing you worry about? I think Steve will love it. You look stunning”, her eyes shining with amusement. “Steve..what has he to do..?”, you stop midsentence, seeing Bobbi give you the look, “Don’t fool me y/n, the longing looks you both give each other, don’t go unnoticed by me nor Hunter”, she blinks, “I think the mission will go just fine. And with your gun problem, I think I’ve got something that can help you. Just need to check my old equipment”, walking out of the room.

Checking your hairstyle in the mirror, you decided to put in some more bobby pins and walk into the bathroom. Hearing someone enter the room, you assume it’s Bobbi, “Did you find..”, coming out of the bathroom, stopping when you see Steve standing there. The tuxedo he’s wearing frames him, making him look handsome. His freshly trimmed beard and styled hair, makes the picture complete. You both stare at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say to the other. His gaze roaming over your body, just like yours does over his.

The dress hugged you in all the right places and made him wish there was no mission. How he wished you trusted him, that there was no rift between you. He was tired of the fights and discussions you’ve had with each other. Or the fact that every time he came close, you stopped him and put up your wall again. How he wished for you to let it go and accept your feelings. He knew you felt the same way, you were just to fucking scared or angry to accept it.

Imagining helping you out of that dress and into bed, awakes that urge he had tucked away safely. Trying to ignore what you do to his body and mind, he starts talking about the mission.    

“I wanted to talk to you about..Well..just wanted to check if you’re okay with what were about to sell. You’re okay with us pretending to be a couple?”, Steve asks breaking the silence, shifting in his stance, his movements emphasizing how out of place he’s feeling.  

“Steve, it’s part of the job. I don’t think we need to talk about boundaries, just be yourself, act natural. Do what you would do, if we were a real couple”, startled by what you say, you avoid looking at him. Screaming mentally, how could you be so stupid to say something like that. Asking yourself how he would be, if you really were a couple. After this mission was done, you needed to talk to yourself. Seeing your body, had already made up its mind, twice, you needed to decide if you could let go of the past, “What I meant was I will follow your move, they won’t even notice that we’re not together”, you answer, looking at him, the question visible on his face.

“Y/N, I..we need to talk about what happened. I know you’re not ready, but you just can’t let me expect to ignore the signals you’re sending my way. In the quinjet you kissed me back, I think that’s pretty clear. I know I made some bad decisions in the past, but I need to..”, Steve takes a few steps towards you.

“Steve, we’re about to go on a mission. I need my head clear and talking about that stuff, thinking about Us being together, doesn’t help. I can’t talk about it, not yet..I need to focus, we can’t afford mistakes”, you interrupt him, seeing the pain in his face makes you regret your words that instant. Stepping closer, laying your hands on his shoulders, “The past marked us with scars, it left us vulnerable. I’m trying to let it go an accept my vulnerability. But at this moment I need Steve Rogers the soldier”, adjusting the collar of his blazer, pecking his cheek “I’m sorry”, for a moment you stare each other in the eyes, trying to except the situation you’re in at the moment.  

“Here I found my old holster”, Bobbi says walking in, seeing the both of you staring at each other, “Everything okay?”, she asks looking at you. Snapping out of your stare, you look at Bobbi, “Yeah Fine, nothing’s wrong”, you smile, looking at the item Bobbi had brought. “Here, you can attach this to your leg. It adjust to your skin color, hiding your gun in plain sight”, handing you the holster, ignoring Steve for a moment. “Thanks, that way I won’t go without a weapon”, fastening the holster onto your right leg, attaching the gun to it. “So, ready to go ?”, you look at Steve, who’s still having an intern monologue. “Steve, can we go?”, you ask again, a little louder, finally getting his attention. “Yes, we can go, just need to check our coms and equipment with Hunter”, Steve answers clearing his throat at the awkward situation. “Let’s go then”, taking your clutch, you walk downstairs.

“Jowsa, you look hot, smalls”, Hunter whistles, handing you your earpiece, “Thanks, but don’t let your wife hear it”, you wink at him. “He’s only speaking the truth”, Bobbi remarks, handing you your items, a lipstick laser, a powder box with compartments, earrings and matching neckless and a bracelet that turns in a chain. “How cliché”, you say amused, looking at Steve, who’s been quiet the whole time.

“Say, Rogers, cat got your tongue?”, you ask, not getting an answer, you turn towards him. “You’re not thinking about aborting the mission, are you?” standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, “Stev..”, he interrupts you by giving you a quick kiss on the lips, “I was just admiring you, you look gorgeous”, he softly says and walks towards Hunter for his equipment.

You look stunned at Bobbi, who raises her brows, mouthing ‘finally’. “We’ve explored the venue and hid some camera’s and mics. Your back-up equipment and gear are hidden on different places. You can find them with the tracker on your purse and watch if you need them. The cameras are connected to the com room in the compound”, Hunter explains, “You’re necklace and bowtie are new gadgets from Wakanda, greetings from Suri and the warning not to lose them. The items contain your uniform. Just like T’Challa you can summon your uniform if needed. Let’s hope it’s not necessary”, Bobbi gives a warning look.

“Remember, were gone as soon as you leave this house. It will be like we’ve never been here. Your belongings will be stashed away in a safe at the train station. Along with your passport and two train tickets to Tarbaka in Tunisia. From there you need to contact the base”, he continues, hugging you tight, “Be careful, smalls” pecking the side of your head.

“As of now, we were never here. Never met you or helped you prep this mission. We’re retired state agents, enjoying a vacation”, Bobbi smiles, guiding you out of the house. “Watch each other’s back. Once you’re in the venue your coms will connect automatically with the compound, oh and Cap, watch her, keep her safe!” Hunter warns Steve, glaring at him for a second. “Don’t worry Agent Hunter, she’s important to me to”, Steve says stepping into the car.  

Stepping into the car you take one last glance at those two, they were legends, ghost if you would believe their files. Retired for a long time, stayed in hiding since Hive and now they risked everything to help the both of you. Hopefully they could continue their way of living, without any interruption.  

[human-south-of-north-pole]

Obligatory Cyberpunk 2077 rant

(Spoilers, duh; also I'm an absolute noob)

Somehow I didn't enjoy the game, and I think I may have figured out why.

I guess I approached the game with the wrong expectations.

I expected there to be more gang politics. You had a goddamn trailer about gangs. I expected to make allies and enemies. To fight in battles between them. Turn the streets of night city into a warzone. I didn't expect all gangs to still exist once I finished the game. Or at least make interacting with them in any way more meaningful than changing the voice lines of your enemies/friends. Change the items shops have to offer. I didn't notice a diffence in combat styles, but I may just be inattentive. You changed the cars, why not the rest?

I expected to not only see the skyscrapers from the outside (with a few exceptions). I expected to have firefights on rooftops and apartments, to jump across skybridges. Maybe fly from rooftop to rooftop in a helicopter?

I expected the corporations to not be distant entities which do... Something? I expected to be involved in their actions. To work for various employees. To hack the cameras of boardrooms, steal files, to manipulate, persuade or blackmail my opponents. (Don't get me wrong, there are "steal file" type missions, except they don't matter at all)

Perhaps I even hoped to be able to play my enemies against another. Frame a rival gang for the murder of a corpo.

This is the big one:

And I guess I didn't expect the world to be so horrible, the story so unsatifyingly sad. I was under no illusion that I would be playing in a dystopia. But I was also expecting that I would be playing as an overpowered protagonist killing machine (and in combat, you do). From this I concluded that I would be able to "fix" the world. After all, noone can stop me. Except the plot, apparently. In cp2077, "mission completed" has a good chance of meaning either "nothing I cared about happened" or "someone I cared about died, and there was nothing I could do". And I'm not talking about a dramatic death; I'm talking about pointless deaths ofscreen, without me even beeing there. All important choices are between bad and worse (and of course the npcs will blame me for it). (Or maybe these are just the parts that I remember).

I expected to win. Or at least to be able to. To save my life. "Oh no, your body started rejecting you because the relic overwrote it with johnny. We only have an AI a that can swap engrams at will and the relic still stuck in my head. It was even designed to work on dead bodies. There is definitely nothing we can do. /s". And why? I get that raising the stakes last moments is a plot device or something, but not after I did all the things, shot all the npcs, made my way to the big glowing monolith and pressed the button labeled "you win". Not with zero foreshadowing. At this point I expect to have the credits roll, wake up and continue playing side missions (properly after the mission, none of that "reload last save" bs)

The last two paragraphs were major story complaints. People sometimes use the term "emotional rollercoaster", but rollercoaster engineers are artists. Every bend is just wide enough to not actually hurt you, every acceleration is just low enough to still be fun, and once you get off it, you enjoyed it. Cp2077 is a pair of rocket boosters and infinite 90° angles. The game can't decide if it wants to be a lighthearted power trip or whether you should experience total helplessness, leading me to enjoy neither. I do not care about floating items, t-posing enemies or what must be worst car AI since forever (even though I do appreciate the "drives to side of lane to let you pass easier" part), if you just make sure your game doesn't feel like it was designed to make you feel bad. I guess I expected the "game of the decade" to be happy. (Also, does anyone else find it weird that the ending clearly labeled "none of your friends die" is considered the bad ending?)

I am actually quite happy that you almost didn't do the whole "Skillchecks for better endings" and diplomacy skill bs, because it would have turned the game into "how must I invest my skill points to pass the next check", which I consider extremely boring. Slipped up in the last Delamain mission though.

There are a couple of small letdowns like that actually, for example, why is a 90k €$ motorbike worse than Jackie's arch, which you get for free long before you get 90k €$?

On the topic of €$, I actually quite like the 2077 slang.

Another note: what tf is the deal with max tac? They get their own special introduction in the into-car-trip and an ominous loading screen tip, and then just don't show up for the entire game???

I guess I also expected more diversity in items, especially Cyberware. The current one is fine, but I exped more than fine. There is still a bit of stuff locked for me, but my point still stands. You could have done something more with eyes and legs at least. Increase movement speed? Reduce fall damage? Increase max-tagged enemies count? Detect enemies though walls short range? Display camera fov? Honestly, I'd pay just to make the enemy highlight less obnoxious so that I can see if they are standing before or behind cover.

I expected crafting to be less boring. You have a whole skill tree for that! But it's installing generic mods, creating items, and a generic "upgrade" option that just adds a bit of damage. I expected to take my guns apart, build or configure scopes, firering-patterns, magazines, barrels, stocks, ammo types,... But I do absolutely love the "turn any weapon non-lethal" option.

And I expected this game to have a descent UI. Ignoring the glitchy HUD (actually, don't ignore it, pleaaaase make the minimap zoom out while driving), what's up with that inventory menu? How am I supposed to navigate that? Find aything? I get that you have to optimize for controllers, but seriously? Is there any real structure? You have your main page, which is nice, but then you have all the subpages, form which you can navigate to some others. Sometimes there are random elements dotted about? The Messages and shards menu are almost unusable. Have you never heard of "sort by new"? And the grouping is off anyway. Also, why tf do car advertisements not include the car's ps / curb weight?

Worst part is, I will come back to the game. I can just leave a broken world. I enjoy the combat. I even started to like driving with a keyboard. The scenery looks beautiful. But for some reason they need to keep telling me how terrible the world is and don't allow me to do anything about it. Maybe realistic, but if I wanted realistic, I wouldn't play a videogame. Overall it's not fun, at least for me.

Does anyone feel about the story like I do? The reviews mostly praised it iirc, but it just make me feel bad, and not in the enjoyable melancholy way.

</rant>

Sorry you had to read that.

[blackberrywidow]

You’re It

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Fluff and mild language

Summary: College AU. During a game of Humans vs. Zombies, you find yourself falling for the enemy. 

A/N: This is my submission for @spideypeach and @astral-parker‘s writing challenge. I hope everyone likes this! I know everything I've been writing has been super fluffy recently, but I can’t stop myself so here’s some more. 

It was day three.

For three long days, you had been living in this apocalyptic hell, dodging zombies left and right just to make it to the goddamn food court. It was frustrating, always having to have your gun out and ready to fire at any handsy obstacles, but it was also fun. A nice change of pace to break up the dull monotony of university. And you were determined to win—well, at least be the last to lose anyway.

According to the webpage that was tracking the game, there were still about 29 of the original 134 still in the game, including yourself. Zombies were starting to drop out of the game like flies with so few people left to feed on, but you were determined to keep your wits about you and stay in this game until the very end.

Your bandana was tied securely around your arm, the vibrant orange signaling that you were one of the few remaining humans in play to feed on before the 48 hour deadline to “eat” another passed. Yesterday was hard enough—you had barely avoided being tagged 4 times. You knew today was going to be even more challenging.

But you were determined—if you could run away from the star quarterback for a whole block, you could survive anything. You were smart. You were fast. You had a fully loaded nerf gun and an air of ruthlessness that would make anyone hesitate to approach you. You—

A flash of orange appeared in the corner of your eye and you instinctively dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding an outstretched hand.

“Hey,” the owner of the grabby hand shouted in surprise. He rounded on you, smile exuberant and brown curls wild as he laughed. “I really thought I had you for a second there. Great reflexes!”

“Uh… thanks,” you responded dumbly, watching him with cautious eyes. Your cheap plastic gun was clutched tightly in your right hand, but you had yet to raise it. You wanted to attribute your hesitation to his strange reaction to missing you. But if you were being honest, he was quite possibly the cutest boy you had ever seen. He was dressed casually in a band t-shirt and jeans, and the orange bandana that he had tied around his head to signify that he was a zombie didn’t look as ridiculous on him as it did on everyone else. It was his eyes that really drew you in though—they seemed to reflect his smile and happiness. If nothing else, he was certainly the most lively looking zombie you’d ever seen.

“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand as though they had just met under normal circumstances. But these weren’tnormal circumstances, so you stared pointedly at his hand until he dropped it back to his side with a chuckle. “Oh right. No touching. Well, I mean, I am about to touch you though.”

You raised an eyebrow in response, still resolutely silent as you waited for him to reconsider his words before you really had to hurt him. It only took the space of a heartbeat.

“Oh, no! Sorry, no, not like that. I mean, not that I’m like disgusted by you or anything, just that I, uh… meant for the game. Like I’m gonna tag you.”

Your lips twitched up involuntarily, despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. His rambling was endearing, if a little strange. “Right. Just one small problem with that.”

“Problem?” Peter repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, just a small problem though. If you wanna touch me,” you teased, grinning wickedly when he flushed, “you’ll have to catch me first.”

And with that, you were taking off down the sidewalk.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t just raise your gun and shoot him. If you had managed to hit him with the harmless foam dart, he would have been immobilized for 15 minutes per the rules of the game, which would have given you ample time to get away without all of this physical exertion. Yet there you were, laughing exuberantly while being chased down the street by a practical stranger.

But you could hear his yelled threats of “eating your brains” and “turning you into one of us” from behind you, the amusement clear in his voice, and you knew that you had made the right choice.

You stumbled around a corner, accidentally knocking into a stranger and dropping your only weapon as a result. You didn’t slow down long enough to retrieve it, though you did turn to offer a hurried apology. Once you had made another sharp turn, you finally allowed yourself to slow down minutely. You sucked in greedy gulps of air and hoped (and feared) that you had lost Peter with your evasive turns, before looking up and realizing that you had just cornered yourself in an alley.

“Shit,” you cursed, just as Peter rounded the corner after you with a triumphant “Gotcha!” You closed your eyes, desperately formulating ideas to get you out of this as you slowly turned to face your zombie attacker, completely defenseless and with nowhere to run.

“Okay,” you panted, trying desperately to regain your breath even as your smile widened. “How about we make a deal Peter.”

“What?!” The idea of making a deal seemed completely preposterous too him as he laughed and shook his head, not even the slightest bit out of breath. The jerk. “No way! I’ve got you cornered, completely weaponless. There’s no way you can make it out of this un-zombified. I can’t just let you go, no matter what you offer me. I have some pride you know.”

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed, stalling as you tried desperately to think of something that you could offer him that wouldn’t injure your pride. “Well… if you let me go, I’ll go on a date with you.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. His chocolate eyes widened comically, his mouth dropping open as he tried to sputter out a response. You’d be embarrassed if it weren’t so cute. “I—I can’t just agree to let you go in exchange for a date! That’s—that’s like… well I don’t know! But it seems wrong!”

“Why?” you challenged, an excited gleam in your eye. This game was turning out to be much more fun than you had expected. “Nowhere in the rules does it say that you have to tag me—just let me go and I’ll go on a date with you. It’s as easy as that.”

He raised a skeptical brow in response. “That seems kind of manipulative, doesn’t it? That you’ll only go out with me if I do something for you.”

“Well…” you hesitated, realizing that he was actually kind of right. Dammit. “Okay, fine. I would probably go on a date with you even if you tagged me, because you’re cute.” You were kind enough to ignore the way his face flushed at the praise. “But if you want to go on a date with me, shouldn’t you be willing to sacrifice this one kill to let me live? You’ve got me cornered here. Hardly seems fair.”

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowed in contemplation as he mulled it over, blessedly not pointing out that it was actually more than fair. It was how the game was supposed to be played—you were the one trying to play by different rules.

“Okay,” he finally agreed. “If you go on a date with me tonight, I won’t zombify you… now. This agreement will enact a treaty that lasts from now until the moment I walk you home—not a second later. Then, I can tag you whenever I want.”

“If you can catch me again,” you shot back, a smug smile on your face as you stepped forward to shake his hand in agreement. “I accept your terms, Mr. Parker.”

Peter grinned at you in response before slowly lowering his gaze to your still-outstretched hand.

“Oh.” You blinked down at your hand before slowly lowering it to your side. Now you were the one being obtuse. “Right. No touching then.”

“It’ll make for an interesting first date at least,” Peter offered, though he immediately backtracked when he caught the widening of your eyes. “Not that I was gonna touch you! I mean, it’s not like I’m opposed to it or something, just that I, uh—”

“Relax, Peter,” you laughed, rolling your eyes and taking a step back. “I’ll see you at six, yeah? I live in Teter Hall. You can pick me up there.”

With that, to turned around and strode off down the street, looking to retrieve your gun before heading to your next class. Hopefully you could find some ammo along the way.

“Wait!” Peter called after you, though he made no move to follow now that you had a treaty. “I didn’t catch your name!”

“Oh,” you chuckled, the giddiness of your near-“death” experience and your upcoming date getting to you. “It’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you yelled back, turning just long enough to flash him a smile and give him an answer before disappearing around the corner.

---

Four hours later and you were descending the stairs leading up to your building to meet a nervous-looking Peter at the bottom.

“You’re early,” you teased, trying for casual despite the tight ball of nerves that had taken over your stomach. It had been so natural this morning—flirting had never come so easy to you. But now you had time to rethink your actions and you had lost all of your confidence. You would at least do your best to pretend though. “Hope you’re not trying to do some recon for after our treaty.”

“I would never,” Peter swore solemnly, holding a hand over his heart. His expression quickly softened into a smile as he drank in your appearance though. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you said, doing a little twirl as you took the last step down to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. It was your favorite dress, one that you rarely had the opportunity to wear, so you were glad to break it out for the occasion. “So do you,” you noted, taking in his slightly more formal outfit—he had swapped out his t-shirt for a blue sweater over a checkered red button-up, though he was still wearing jeans and looked as disheveled as he had earlier. He seemed like he was always in a state of disarray.

His cheeks flushed at the praise, and he ran a hand through his previously well-styled hair. “Thanks.”

“So, where are we going?” you asked after a beat of silence, wondering what someone like Peter would consider an ideal first date.

“Well, the animal shelter that’s just a few minutes from campus is open for another hour. I uh… thought that maybe we could go there first, then go get dinner at that Italian place across the street from it?”

He seemed nervous, waiting for you to criticize his plan even as your eyes lit up with excitement. “That sounds amazing!” you decided, taking off in the direction of the shelter without further prompting. “I absolutely love animals. I actually volunteered at the local animal shelter back home when I was in high school. And I’ve always wanted to go to Buchetto’s!”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a relieved laugh, easily keeping pace with you. “I know.”

“Oh do you?” you challenged, glancing at him with narrowed eyes and feigning suspicion. “How do you know that? Did you run a background check on me?”

“Yes,” Peter confessed solemnly, expression suddenly serious. “I wanted to be prepared, and luckily the first thing that popped up was ‘loves dogs and pasta.’ My second date idea was to take you to court to pay for all of your speeding tickets.”

Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t contain your laugh at his dry humor. “Speeding tickets, huh? I think you might have found the wrong girl.”

“Ah,” Peter sighed, ducking his head down to try to hide his answering smile. “Good thing I looked you up on Instagram as a backup then.”

“So… you did stalk me on Instagram then?”

Your grin widened as you watched Peter flounder for a response. You considered taking mercy on him, but instead choose to wait a full minute for him to settle on a simple. “Well… basically, yeah.”

“Good,” you answered, moving your gaze to look straight ahead as the shelter came into view. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one. Having an internship with Stark Industries is amazing, by the way. Kudos to you.”

Peter’s smile was relieved and more than a little grateful. “Thanks. So, shall we pet some puppies?”

He opened the door to the shelter with a flourish that made you giggle. You played along, dropping into a clumsy curtsy before entering. “Yes sir, I believe we shall.”

---

As far as first dates go this one was… well, definitely the best you had ever had. After spending nearly an hour playing with the adorable dogs and cats—all of which you wished you could sneak into your dorm room—you made the short walk across the street to the Italian bistro that Peter had suggested. It exceeded your expectations as well.

The puppies were cute, the food was delicious, but Peter blew them both out of the water.

He was amazing, simply put. You could tell that he was nervous at first—and though you wouldn’t admit it, you were too—but that quickly faded throughout the night. He was funny and charming (but not in a charming way, more like a this dork is hopeless but it’s so endearing I think I may swoon way). He was also smart, which shined through in the things he said and did without him having to brag or draw attention to it. And he wasn’t putting any pressure on you the entire time—the date was casual and relaxed, without any hint of aggression or creepiness on his part. And considering your past dates… that was a major feat.

Most importantly though, he had yet to touch you.

This fact was also one that was becoming increasingly disappointing.

It was great that he appeared to be taking your treaty very seriously. There had been plenty of opportunities for him to hold your hand or place an arm around your shoulders, effectively tagging you and making you a zombie, but he hadn’t. You hoped that it was solely because of the game, but you also had a small fear that he just wasn’t interested after all.

Thanks to your circumstances, you really had no way of knowing short of asking him outright. Which you were not going to do.

“So…” Peter said once you were out of the restaurant and heading back to campus. He tugged subconsciously at the orange headband he wore around his head as he smiled down at you, only reminding you again that this game was effectively the biggest cockblock at the moment.

(Not that you were thinking about that of course! Just that…yeah. No touching.)

“So…” you mimicked, returning his smile and wondering if it would be worth losing the game just to reach out and grab his hand.

“I had a great time,” he finally decided on, meeting your eyes briefly before his gaze darted away. “I’m really glad that you blackmailed me into doing this.”

“Hey!” you protested, barely catching yourself before you playfully hit him in the shoulder. Something he noticed, if his smirk and glint of mischief in his eyes indicated anything. “It wasn’t blackmail. It was… a negotiation.”

“Okay, fine. We negotiated,” Peter acquiesced with a chuckle. “I uh… hope we can negotiate again in the near future?” His voice sounded so unsure and hopeful that any previous doubts you had faded away.

You grinned as you came to a stop in front of your dorm, wishing that this wasn’t the end of the night but glad that you now had the promise of more. “I would love that.”

“Hey!”

The voice made you both jump, and Peter’s gaze snapped somewhere over your left shoulder, his eyes narrowing. You whirled around, more than a little irritated that some jerk was interrupting your nice night, and was surprised to find that it really was just some random dude about twenty feet away from you.

“Do you know him?” you asked, raising a brow. You certainly didn’t recognize him from anywhere and couldn’t come up with a reason that he would be yelling at you—and it had to be at the two of you as there was no one else around at this time of night on a Friday. Everyone was either inside catching up on school work or out socializing elsewhere. Everyone except you and this jerk wearing a—oh.

“No, but he’s a player,” Peter pointed out in a whisper just as you came to the same conclusion. The guy was of average height and build, with shaggy blonde hair held back with an orange bandana that signified his zombie-status. And he was moving steadily toward you, a slow grin forming on his face.

Peter stepped up behind you, closer now but still not touching. Your eyes snapped to the side, gauging the distance between you and your dorm building and your chances of making it there before the guy tagged you.

“Hey,” Peter called back, making an effort to sound friendly but assertive. Unfortunately, assertiveness wasn’t really his strong suit and it came of as weary more than anything. “What’s up man?”

“You do realize that you’re standing next to one of the last fifteen humans in play, right?” the blonde zombie asked, bewilderment coloring his tone as he came to rest only a few feet from you. “Why haven’t you tagged her yet?!”

“We’re… friends,” Peter answered, stepping up beside you and glancing you out of the corner of his eye as though to confirm. You shrugged—you hardly knew what you were, but you knew you hoped it was more than friends. Now just wasn’t a good time to hash that out.

“Well, she isn’t my friend,” the guy responded with a snicker. He took another step forward the same moment you took one back. “And I’ve only got thirty minutes left to tag someone before I’m out of the game. So, sorry sweetheart, but you’re about to be it.”

A tense moment followed his statement, one that seemed to last forever but in reality, only took long enough for Peter to glance back at you to mouth one word: run.

You didn’t hesitate to listen. You spun on your heel, taking off toward your dorm as fast as you could, but the zombie was faster. He lunged after you, hand outstretched, and barely missed your shoulder when Peter tackled him.

You gasped in shock, eye blowing wide at the unexpected save, and froze.

“Go!” Peter called out, rolling off of the guy. You understood that he couldn’t exactly restrain the guy forever—you were just playing a game and at some point, it would become assault—but you wished that he could have bought you just a few more seconds. “I’m right behind you!”

Your feet responded before your mind did, which was great except that they decided to carry you in the opposite direction from your dorm. You suppose it made sense as Peter and the other zombie were blocking your path, but now you were just running aimlessly away. Impulse decisions really just weren’t a strength of yours.

You heard footsteps pounding behind you, and you picked up the pace. Man this guy was fast—even the quarterback from yesterday hadn’t put you through this kind of workout.

“Hey!” a voice you immediately recognized called out, and you stumbled in surprise. Peter’s hand shot out to help you, but he quickly caught himself and let it drop as he came to a stop beside you. “This way!”

He inclined his head in the direction of a gazebo to your right, and it was only then that you realized you had made it all the way to Campus Square. You nodded, taking his advice and dashing over to the gazebo with Peter hot on your heels. You both dove down to find cover in the bushes behind the gazebo and got as close together as you could without touching.

You sat there in silence, listening intently for the arrival of your zombie attacker before you started giggling.

“Uh… What’s so funny? Shouldn’t we be trying to be quiet right now?” Peter whispered, looking down to meet your eyes. You could barely make out his features in the dim lighting of the nearby lampposts, but you saw affection warring with the confusion and it made you smile.

“Yeah, it’s just… isn’t this so ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous?” Peter repeated, clearly still confused though he smiled when you laughed again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this game,” you explained quietly. “We just spent this entire evening together, not touching once, so that I could stay in as a human. And then as soon as we get back to my dorm and our treaty is technically over, some other guy shows up to tag me. The timing is impeccable, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed with a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I guess it is pretty ridiculous. But it feels wrong to tag you now, even with the treaty, you know? I just hope that we can make it back to your dorm without that guy finding us. He doesn’t really seem like the type to give up.”

You considered that, taking in the truth of his words. The solution seemed obvious.

“Peter.” You whispered his name like a prayer, tone suddenly sober and serious when previously it had been full of mirth.

He noticed the change immediately, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to interpret your meaning. “(Y/N)? What—”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish, deciding that it was now or never. Your hand shot out and grasped peter by the collar of his dress shirt to pull him down into a heated kiss.

His surprise was obvious—he jerked back in surprise and his lips remained frozen under yours. You were just about to accept that you had misread the situation and made a fool of yourself when he finally responded.

Losing the game was definitelyworth it.

His lips were soft and gentle as he brushed them against yours, and his touch was tentative but firm when he raised a hand to hold the back of your head. But it was sweet and loving in the way first kisses should be, and a warmth spread in your chest and stole your breath.

“Oh, come on!”

You both jumped apart, faces flaming red as you turned to find the zombie from earlier staring down at you in horror.  “I was so close to getting you!”

“Sorry man,” Peter replied with a chuckle and a shrug after he got over the initial shock of being caught making out in the bushes. “I got her first.”

“Yeah, I see that.” The guy rolled his eyes but held a fist out for Peter to bump his against. “Good for you dude.”

He left after that, clearly sulking now that he was out of time to stay in the game, and you sighed in relief. “Boys are stupid.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed with a laugh before standing and holding a hand out to help you up. “That we are.”

“Well, at least some are more tolerable than others,” you teased, unable to contain your smile. The only consolation was that Peter seemed to be having the same problem.

“Here,” he said, reaching out with steady hands to untie the orange bandana from around your arm. “We have to make it official.”

Your cheeks heated as he worked on retying the bandana securely around your head, marking you as a zombie. You hoped he didn’t notice. “I was really set on lasting longer you know.”

“Sorry,” Peter said with a sheepish grin, though you got the feeling he really wasn’t. “I guess that’s what you get for going on a date with a zombie.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed heavily, casting your gaze to the ground. He tensed as he finished tying the bandana, and you knew he was seconds away from making a real apology when you said, “Worth it though. There’s no other zombie I’d rather have bite me.”

Peter pulled back, cheeks tinted pink and smile daring as he laughed. “Well, I didn’t bite you. But—”

“Slow down there Zombie Boy,” you laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him in the direction of your dorm. “Walk me home first and we’ll see where it goes.”

“Sounds like plan,” Peter agreed, easily falling into step with you. “Well negotiated as always.”

Taglist: @desir-ae, @sugarplumparker, @tina8009

[protagonistheavy]

Ive never played a Dead Rising game before but jumping into Dead Rising 2 has felt really good. I'm familiar with the game through one playthrough I watched forever ago, otherwise I'm going in pretty blind.

This game is sooo mozzarella sticks lol. Literally cheesy in that the writing is just so bad it's kinda good, but the game is also very snacky, just go in, smash zombies, grab stuff, smash zombies, follow the arrow, loot stuff, smash zombies. The game does a good job getting you into that action, immediately putting you into a motocross game of killing zombies, and then soon after unleashing the plot on you. The dialogue is so fucking wonky but it's consistently wonky, and Capcom has a weird charming way of making cheesy scripts passable. I'm so far enjoying the basic gameplay loop, even if it is FUCKING stressful right out the gate, with such strict time limits and no immediate indicator how long a series of cases is going to take; I almost fucked up the first day, but barely completed the case with seconds on the bar, because I kept thinking I'd get more time refreshed in between segments of the case.

Combining weapons seems like it's gonna be a lot of fun, though admittedly I wish I had more combo cards to play with sooner. It's kind of frustrating imagining the possibilities you could make... but you can't, because you don't have a card that says you know how to make it. I enjoy how the game wants you to utilize combo weapons, encouraging you to plan ahead and stock up on good weapons, and only use stray equipment when you absolutely have to -- adds just a little extra planning to your route.

Running around Fortune City eerily does feel like walking around a real mall lol. It's surprisingly engaging finding paths to weave through zombie mobs, rather than trying to fight them off; you only need to thin crowds rather than clear out whole areas most of the time, and you can skip and dodge the rest so you can save your resources. Planning the route you're gonna take is really important when you're on these time limits, it's easy to get lost and especially important to know where you're going when escorting survivors to the safehouse.

Aaaaand the escort missions themselves... They're not terrible! I enjoy the mechanic, I think a zombie outbreak is a great place for some shitty escort mechanics since chaos and stress is sort of the point. But at the same time, managing the NPCs feels sooooo fucking bad sometimes. Some NPCs just go so far out of their way to fight zombies and get themselves in terrible situations. I also hate that talking to survivors is what it is, trying to have conversations while also blasting down zombies is cool sometimes but really annoying most of the time. I had a really bad issue where I was trying to escort this couple out, but I couldn't get them both to follow me -- because, it turned out, there was MORE dialogue I had to skip through, so I spent two minutes fighting zombies for nothing, waiting for this NPC to come down and get to safety. I guess now that I know that this can happen, I'll be more diligent in talking to NPCs all the way, but really, why do I have to? You should have to go through ONE dialogue prompt, max, to get someone to follow you, or otherwise tell you what you need to do to get them to follow you -- I had to go through dialogue prompts like ten different times between finding these two on their own, getting them back together, and then telling them to please follow the fuck behind me.

In general a lot of issues come up with the controls for me. I hate how L and R swaps your weapon but it "swaps" in the wrong direction, without a clear indicator of what direction it even swapped to. I hate that the attack button is also used to eat food, so many times I'm spamming the attack button only for my weapon to break and now suddenly I'm chugging an OJ at max health. I hate that NPCs can be damaged by your attacks and even get to the point where they DEFECATE I mean DEFECT and try to fucking kill you, I've been stuck in impossible scenarios where either I protect an NPC from zombies but hit them with my own attack, or I leave them to get injured by the zombie until they break loose. I hate that putting on clothes is the same button as grabbing weapons, too many times I'm spamming to pick up weapons only to suddenly stop and put on a whole set of clothes that happened to be nearby. All these things could have be resolved with some smarter controls, like maybe asking you to hold the button to eat food or change clothes, or labeling with arrows how weapon swapping works, or giving a better indicator of what you're going to interact with.

But fortunately I can get past most of these issues by being aware of them and playing around them. It makes me wonder what a more modern take on these controls/ideas would feel like, and if future installments did better in these areas. It's kinda funny how quiet of a franchise Dead Rising is now considering it uses to be THE talk of the town back in the day, I remember being sooo envious of non-Nintendo consoles getting The Zombie Game. And it's so fun, too! I wonder what's happened to the series that no one even thinks to hype it up when a Capcom Direct comes.

[unu-nunu-art]

Naming the Pen

Phew, this is gonna be a long one. Get ready.

So, I made a poll yesterday about naming Template’s Pen and... I took the links down now, I’m not gonna go after these names. I had a night to sleep over it and now I believe it was wrong to have a vote about this. 

I’ll name the pen ‘Penny’ regardless of the poll’s outcome.

The thing is that, while ‘Digi’ was first place and certainly isn’t a bad name in general, I realized that it’s just not working out for Template. If one good thing came out from this poll, it is that I am now certain that its name is gonna be Penny, and I have various reasons for this.

You may not know or realize this, but both Template and Pale are not just characters I made for fun, or to design Swap versions of Error and Ink, but instead I care very, VERY much about them and almost everything in their design and their ways is constructed around core ideas and their personality. And of course nobody else could possibly assume what I would go for with them. It’s just an impossible task, so this wasn’t fair from me to make an attempt to vote on it in the first place, which I apologize for. ;w;

I don’t wanna play the “he’s my character, I do what I want” card, so instead, I will list a few reasons as to why I decided to go with my original idea and name the pen Penny instead. I want you all to understand my reasons behind this and hopefully, after a little consideration, you may find that you agree with my decision. So, here goes:

- Template wants to be just like Ink, and while I think Myebi never really said anything about the name of Ink’s brush or whether it even has one, ‘Broomy’ or ‘Brushy’ are common names used for it. So Template calling his pen ‘Penny’ follows the same fashion

- Speaking of which, ‘Penny’ is also a word for a different thing. While ‘Broomy’ is a little more straight forward, it also names Ink’s brush after a thing that it’s not. (Just an extension of the previous reason)

- I can only repeat myself: Template idolizes Ink heavily and wants to be like him. He has a pen, while Ink has a brush. Ink has nothing ‘digital’ about him, but Error does. But Template wants to avoid any comparison between him and Error, so choosing a name focusing on exactly that part of him is contradicting his goals. In other words: there is no reason for him to name his pen Digi because it would defy his personality

- Template is not as creative as you’d want to make you believe, so going with the first best answer is to be expected of him. Heck, I was debating whether he’d name his Void just ‘Art Zone’ for the lack of anything more creative and fitting and to be fair, and I couldn’t come up with something else so far myself that would be more in character, so... *shrugs*

These are a few reasons personality-wise. but hold on, there is more fun stuff!

First of all, cuteness and coolness are something entirely subjective, and while that suggested name DOES sound really cool to me (sorry :p), it would defy Template’s whole personality by putting a “404″ in his pen’s name there for the same reason as calling it ‘Digi’, which would be admitting his relation to Error.

But I’ve got good news for you: Penny IS a cool name. Why? Because it’s a girl’s name. 

Have you ever seen a movie, show, or game where the guy gives his weapon a female name? It’s a common trope, and since his pen is not only, well, a pen, but also his weapon of choice, it would make sense for him to actively go along with this trope and use a female name. He might also use female pronouns occasionally for his pen from now on to make it fit ;D

Also, here’s another good idea:

And actually, I love ths! Not as in calling the pen like this, but imagine Template occasionally writing letters to his ‘pen pal’ Penny in a kind of diary fashion. I can totally see him do that! :D

...

So... yes. That’s pretty much my reasoning. I really don’t want to talk anyone and their opinions down, so instead I tried to make you guys understand as to why I, as the creator of the character, think this name is a better fit. I’d like to think of a character as a jigsaw puzzle, and you only get a good result when all the pieces fit. And this piece of naming the pen Digi just... doesn’t.

Penny was still in second place, so I believe it’s a name that most people still find appealing and it’s not throwing everything off too much...

I appreciate all the interest and suggestions massively though, and I am horribly sorry for this mess... hence the length of this post. .w.

I’d be really grateful if you just didn’t hit the like button, but instead tell me your opinion in the comments. This whole situation worried me since it all started because I made such a silly mistake. Once again, sorry. I hope you understand. uwu;

Thank you for reading ♥