#or it's just slow because they need to handle other people who want to download?

[unendingphantasm]

one thing every emulator guide should have listed among their rom sources are internet archive romsets. which are good for roms of japanese language games (and their relatively more obscure localizations)

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write about rhea x reader where rhea is into women let’s pretend!! and reader is her best friend and she doesn’t know if she’s straight or bisexual because like she’s attracted to women but she can’t understand so she’s very naive and she asks rhea for help? it can be fluff and smut i really don’t care! thank you so much if you do this ❤️❤️

rhea ripley x reader

‼️this is based off on some experiences i had lol, mention of sex, sweet rhea, i need her in my life lol, slow burn? kinda long-ish i guess and smut so stay away kids‼️

new experiences

“what you mean you don’t know?” rhea asked, sitting on the couch right facing you.

“it means i don’t know!” you kept pacing around and honestly rhea couldn’t handle it anymore.

“it’s a simple question, are you attracted by women the same way you are attracted by men?” she asked, again.

“again, rhea…i don’t know…yes, i guess” you replied.

“okay, let me ask you this…does liv, becky, shayna…i don’t know, beyonce, attract you?” she asked.

“i mean…yes, they’re all attractive women, like damian and finn are handsome men but that doesn’t mean i want to be with them…you know, sexually” you said, avoiding her look.

so this is what it was about.

rhea always knew you were attracted physically both by men and women. she knew, you didn’t. but as far as she can remember you always dated men, you’ve never been with a woman before and she knew this thing was scaring you.

“what is exactly that you don’t know love?” she asked, a little more serious.

“i don’t know if - well - if i like women the same way i like men you know? everytime i see a good looking woman around i wonder what it would feel like dating her you know? like, dating a woman in general because it’s new to me…and i don’t understand, i can’t understand if what i feel is just simple attraction or something more…” you said, giving up and sitting next to her on the couch, facing her “it’s not just about being attracted by them…who wouldn’t be attracted by beyonce?” you joked, making rhea laugh too “but i don’t know if i would like something more the same way i would simply date a man…”

“have you ever tried? have you ever met a woman that your mind, said - fuck , i wanna date her and have sex with her so bad!?” she asked you.

“not really…because i don’t what i’m feeling…it’s all so confusing”

“i know, i’ve been there…and it took time for me too you know…you should start experiencing…meeting new people, meet a woman who can actually help you and have your mind cleared” she said, cringing at her own words.

rhea always had the biggest crush on you but she never said anything, until now at least. she didn’t know what you were feeling and she didn’t want to confuse you but the fact that you just confessed to her that you were “possibly” into women just made it easier for her.

“don’t you think i’m way past my age to experiment? this is something you do when you’re sixteen” you joked.

“absolutely no…i didn’t realise what i liked until i was twenty…it’s never too late love”

“okay…then how would i be able to meet women? how do you do it? gay bars? that would just make me really uncomfortable…i don’t know if…or even what i’m doing…” you asked her desperately.

“gay bars?” she laughed “what kind of shows are you watching?” you looked at her weirdly “yes, gay bars are a thing, and they’re actually very helpful if you just want to have and sex and then never see each other again…it’s not where i would start tho…maybe you can download some meeting app, you know start from there and see where it goes”

“i would love to do that rhea but the problem still remains…i don’t have experience with women! i don’t know where to start or what to do and honestly i don’t see myself opening up to them the same way i’m doing with you right now, i love talking and doing this with you because you’re not judging me and i’ve known you for years and i always knew you wouldn’t judge me for something like this but i don’t know what their intentions are…maybe i should just drop it…” you said, exhausted.

“you shouldn’t drop it…not if it’s making you feel like that, it’s okay and normal to be confused love…” she smiled at you.

“i know that but”

“no buts…you’re confused and i get it, it will take some time maybe for you to get to know you better but i promise you, in the end will be worth it” she said “plus sex with women is more pleasurable than sex with men” she joked, making you blush.

“that’s what i’m talking bout re! how am i supposed to know what it feels like if i never got the chance to experience it?” you said throwing your hands up.

she simply laughed. she didn’t expect you to over react about something like that. being curious? yes, but over reacting? she wasn’t expecting it at all.

“okay…let me ask you this simple question” she said and you nodded “have you ever kissed a girl? like in the past…a friend maybe?”

“never”

“never?”

“no rhea, never…” you said.

“not even as a joke?” she asked again.

“no…that’s probably why i’m also so confused…i told you, i never had any kind of experience…”

“would you like?” she asked.

“to what? kiss a woman?” you sarcastically replied and she nodded.

“kiss me” she smiled and your jaw dropped.

“are you sure?”

“i’m sure…you’re my best friend” how painful it was for her to say that “and since you’ve spent the last hour complaining how you never got to experience that, let me help you”

“won’t this ruin our friendship?” you asked a little worried.

“why would it ruin our friendship? it’s just a kiss…it doesn’t mean anything right?” she said and you nodded.

it means everything to me - she screamed internally.

“okay, you’re right…” you smiled at her as she moved closer to you. her hand gently caressing your cheek making you shiver “don’t be scared” she encouraged you “it’s like you’re kissing a man”

“but it’s not” you whispered “you’re not a man…”

“oh really?” she smirked, making you laugh “hey…if you want to stop or if i’m making you uncomfortable please let me know…it’s the last thing i wanna do” she said and you nodded.

it’s not like she wanted to take advantage of you or the situation - maybe a little - but you’ve been driving her crazy for the past years and now she saw a little hope to have a future with you. she knew she had to play her cards very well otherwise she would fuck up everything and the last thing she wanted to do was to scare you away.

“come closer…” she whispered “it’s okay love” you did as she told and moved closer to her. you were now face to face and having her so close was making you feel things…

“it’s just a kiss” she whispered softly and before you could say something back she laid her lips on yours. it took you a few seconds to reciprocate but you couldn’t deny how good you were feeling. when she felt how positively you were reacting, she deepened the kiss, teasing your lips with her tongue, asking for permission. you definitely didn’t back up. you let her do it, smiling into the kiss. her hands went behind your back, making you come closer to her body while your hands went back into her hair, softly massaging her scalp, making her whimper into your mouth.

you broke the kiss just to catch your breath and in that moment you realised in what kind of weird position you got yourself into.

if it was just a kiss why were you now straddling her lap?

“so?” she asked you, breathing.

“it was good” you smiled.

“yeah? you liked that?”

“yes but…”

“but?”

“i need something” she didn’t even let you finish.

“more?” she smiled.

“more” you nodded.

“do you trust me y/n?” she asked you, making sure you were comfortable.

“i do”

“good…lay on the couch for me beautiful” she said and you did as she told you.

“rhea?”

“mh?”

“are you sure this isn’t going to ruin our friendship? i care too much about you and i don’t want anything to change between us…” you said timidly.

“i promise you, this isn’t changing anything, i’m giving you the experiences you wanted to experience” she smirked and she smiled at you “but if at any point you want me to stop, you need to tell me okay? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable love” you nodded at her words.

she kissed you again, softly, biting your lips and sucking on them, making you shiver. it’s not the first time you’ve been kissed, but it was so different with her that you liked it even more.

“what do you usually like when you’re with men?” she asked softly.

“i-uhm…i don’t - i don’t know…”

“girl” she joked “i need more than that” making you laugh “what do you usually like when you’re having sex with men? there must be something you like the most…”

“i mean…we just have sex…” and in that moment rhea realised how important talking about this was. by the answers you gave her, she understood how you’ve never had this kind of conversations with your previous partners, making her wonder if they even knew what you liked or not. a part of her hated how careless your partners had been with you, they didn’t even take time to learn your body and that was making her mad.

“how does it feel when they first penetrate you?” she asked, your eyes opening to watch her.

“i mean…good? what kind of question is this” you slightly laughed.

“does it hurt? how is your body responding to that?”

“it hurts…but just for a moment, i think it’s normal tho…” you said, not sure of anything.

“yeah, if you’re a virgin…i’m not saying this to make you feel bad but your exes were pretty bad in bed, did they at least took time in getting you wet enough for them?” she couldn’t believe of what she was hearing.

“if they wanted -…”

“if they wanted? i’m so happy you’re single at the moment, please, stay single for a while” she joked again making you chuckle “forget about everything you know…i’m showing you how good sex can actually be” she said and you nodded.

she continued kissing you, not rushing anything. she wanted to take her time with you, making you feel good, showing you how sex was supposed to be. bonus point that you were her crush and she actually wanted to make you her priority.

she slowly began kissing your neck, leaving soft marks and bites. she was observing the way your body was reacting to her, watching if she was making you uncomfortable but when she saw no sign of hesitation, she continued.

“can i remove your top beautiful?” she asked gently and you nodded. she saw you in just your lingerie before but this was a completely different situation. her eyes fell open when she saw the black lacy bra that you were wearing. it was made for you.

she began kissing your breast, leaving marks and bites, making your whole body shiver.

“is it okay if i remove it?” she asked.

“yes” you barely whispered. lucky she was so close to you otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

she let your bra fall onto the floor as she slowly teased your nipples, making them hard. she loved the effect she was having on you.

you, on the other hand, were more than confused. you loved everything that she was doing to you, but you realised that maybe you were loving it because it was her who was doing it with you. you always thought she was a beautiful woman but nothing more than that. you’ve never even thought about what it would have been like dating her and having a life with her.

your core pooled at just the idea of what rhea had in mind for you, and, smart as she was, she sensed it.

her soft lips touching and sucking on your nipples, making you moan in pleasure. her tongue traced your soft stomach, prepping it in kisses, making you feel loved.

her hands went to unbutton your pants, tracing them down and discarding them somewhere on the floor.

“rhea?” you softly called her.

“yes?”

“what-what…uhm…how do women do this?” she swore she tried her best not to laugh, not at you but she thought you looked cute when you were curious and, in some ways, innocent “don’t laugh” you scolded her.

“i’m sorry love…see, we have different ways of doing it, i can show you some…” she placed a gentle kiss over your thigh and you nodded.

her hands slowly moved your panties down, her face shocked when she saw how wet you were, and she barely touched you yet. she kept kissing your thighs but you stopped her the moment she was about to kiss your pussy.

“rhea?”

“mh?”

“what…what are you doing?” you whispered. everything was kinda new to you.

“what you mean?” she asked confused.

“i mean…is it normal? like, you know, what you’re about to do…no one ever done it so…i was just wondering” you confessed.

she was shocked.

no one’s ever went down on you and this was making everything even more exciting for her cause she had the opportunity to show you everything new.

“it’s more than normal baby” she reassured you “and i’m so mad that no one ever done this to you…if you were my girl i would spend hours buried in this sweet pussy” she said before gently kissing your clit, making you shiver.

she kept teasing you until you begged her for something more. and she listened to you begging as it was a preyer. she started sucking and licking at your clit, making you arch your back.

silently you were cursing your ex boyfriend for never doing this to you but in some way, you were actually happy that rhea was doing it to you instead.

your moans were filling the room. rhea’s experienced tongue continued the work while her eyes were switching from being close to watch your face.

to her, you were the most beautiful person in the world. especially in that moment.

mouth open, eyes closed, your hands grabbing and holding tightly the pillows on her couch, your legs beginning to shake.

it was pure bliss for you but it was pure bliss for rhea too.

“rhea…i-i think” you couldn’t even speak properly “i’m -…”

“i know princess…i can feel it, just let it go” she whispered against your pussy, making you come right there.

“oh fuck…” you moaned, your legs tightening around her head as you were shaking.

rhea helped you recoveries from your orgasm but didn’t stop there as one of her finger teased your entrance.

before you could say anything she silenced you with a kiss “you taste so sweet baby, you’re like a drug to me…taste yourself on me” and you did as she said. you could taste it on her tongue and it was making you trembling all over again.

“give me another one…” she whispered this time against your neck. her middle finger entering you in a swift move. gently thrusting in and out, her thumb circling your swollen clit. her free hand went to the back of your head, moving you closer to her face, she was making you watch her.

she needed so see how good she was making you feel.

“open your eyes love” she teased “look at me” and so you did.

it was hard keeping your eyes open, specially when she added a second finger inside of you.

“rhea…oh fuck”

“that good uh?” she smirked.

how she wished she could have you naked on her couch every single day.

“please…”

“please what love?”

you don’t know what you were begging her for, you just loved the way she was making you feel and even if it was a little too much, you couldn’t help but ask for more.

“don’t stop…please”

“i don’t plan on doing so…” she smirked keeping her eyes on you. staring at her was making you wetter and you felt you were about to come any second.

“rhea…” you moaned.

your mouth fell open and the your head touching the pillows beneath you. it was a silent scream, your breath sucking it and your eyes squeezing so hard. rhea thought for a moment that she broke you.

she was watching carefully how your body was reacting to the aftermath of your second orgasm. you were shaking and your breath still uneven.

when you opened your eyes again you saw her right in front of you.

“you okay there?”

“more than okay…” you whispered, still catching your breath.

“so…this is just a few ways of how we enjoy sex” she cracked a joke making you laugh.

“there more?”

“many” she whispered against your lips, kissing you softly “but i think it’s enough for today…”

“wait-…”

“is everything okay?” she asked a little worried.

“you didn’t…how can i…?”

she stopped you before you could continue “it’s not about me today, it’s about you. hopefully i’ve helped you a little more with your sexuality, or maybe i’ve confused you a little more…and if you want to learn more on how to please a woman i’ll be happy to help you out” she winked at you “but for today i think it’s enough…you’ve been so good to me, and i thank you so much for trusting me with this”

you took a few minutes to realise just how much care rhea was putting into this. it wasn’t just her helping you out with your sexuality, you realised there was something more. some unspoken words between the two of you. the way she was treating you, with such care and almost…love.

a tear fell from your eyes and rhea noticed too.

“hey…is everything okay?” she worried, thinking that maybe she overstepped too much and made you uneasy.

“yes…” you quickly wiped your tear as you slowly covered yourself with a blanket “it’s just…it’s more than okay…rhea, i can’t help you enough for this”

“you don’t have to-…”

“i have to…because for the first time in my life i’ve felt like someone really cared about me and i loved it…and i know i shouldn’t say this to you because you are my best friend and there’s nothing between us but you really made me feel loved…and i liked it” and in that moment you understood, it was rhea.

it has always been rhea.

the reason you were so comfortable around her, it came naturally. the way she always treated you, making you feel special, in some of her ways. it was her that you wanted, not any woman, but her.

you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself. maybe because you feared her rejection, or maybe because you feared your own rejection of liking women. but it didn’t matter anymore, not when you were feeling like that.

“i really care about you y/n…way more than just a friend” she confessed.

“what?”

“it shocked me that you didn’t realise it before. i’ve never dated other women because the only one i wanted was you” she said, timidly.

“but you’ve been with other women before…”

“nothing lasted tho” she said “not when those women weren’t you…”

“you mean that?”

“i mean everything i said. everything ive done with you tonight…it wasn’t just for a night…i’m here to help you to get to know yourself better, to teach you if you want to learn, i will always be here for you love…we don’t have to rush anything, we can take it slow and see how things go…if you want me” you’ve never seen rhea so vulnerable before and seeing this side of her was making you realise that you didn’t fully know her.

but god how you liked her. how you liked this new side of her, how you liked the protective side of her when you two went out, how she knew how to treat you.

“yes…yes i want this rhea…just…it’s all new for me, can we take things slow?” you hesitated asking her this. she said it wasn’t a problem but you’ve never met someone who was willing to take time in get to fully know you.

“love…come here” she hugged you “i promise you i will be patient with you…i want this new experience to be enjoyable for you, i don’t want to pressure you or anything…i promise you” she kissed you, softly. her hand caressing your cheek.

“okay…” you whispered.

“okay” she smiled against your lips.

maybe, for the first time in your life, you found someone who was really interested in getting to know you better, and you couldn’t believe that the person you were talking about was rhea.

[katsukisbayy]

The Wrong One (Eijirou Kirishima x Female Reader)

Hi all! This is my contribution to the BNHArem servers villain/hero swap! Special thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku for listening to me vent about this piece!

This is the masterlist for the collab! Go check out everone else’s work!

Warnings: slight cussing, reader is pregnant, Kirishima slits someone’s throat

No beta read cause this was due Saturday and I literally just finished it so if there’s typos, my bad.

Word Count; 3,620

“Ms. Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Ever since those words were spoken to you in front of your boyfriend, one of the most notorious underground villains since UA collapsed, you were constantly followed. Whether it was by your boyfriend Eijirou, his best friends Bakugou and Kaminari, or one of the underlings who followed those three around you were never alone. Except for this particular moment when a massive job had been thrown their way. 

“We’ll be gone for less than a day Y/N, don’t leave the house. Don’t answer the door, don’t answer the phone for anyone other than me, Kaminari or Bakugou. Only those who need to know know that we’re leaving to do this job. Do not, for the love of god, do anything that could hurt you or our daughter okay?” Eijiro sighed, pulling you into a hug and resting his head atop yours. 

“Ei, I know the drill. Whether you like it or not, I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been with you three long enough to know how to kill someone if I need to. We will be fine.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you a moment longer before removing his arms from around you, kissing you softly, and walking out the door. He called out “Love you!” as the door swung shut. You glanced around your apartment, debating on cleaning the damn near spotless living room before deciding to watch a movie instead. You put on your favorite, grabbed a blanket, and laid down on the couch. Mind wandering to what the boys were doing, you barely paid attention to the movie before sleep found you not even twenty minutes later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijirou Kirishima was 6’2 on a bad day, 280 pounds of pure muscle and extremely lethal to everyone but you and his two best friends. He and Bakugou tried their hardest to keep you out of that part of their lives, especially now with you pregnant, but you’d caught glimpses into just how lethal the three of them were. You’d seen Kirishima nearly behead a man using his quirk, and Bakugou AP shot a person’s head off. Kaminari had electrocuted someone to the point where it smelled like seared flesh for three days afterwards, maybe longer. Not many people, villain or hero, wanted to mess with your three boys. But some people are just stupid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud noise from right outside the apartment door jolted you out of your sleep. Pulling your phone off the coffee table, you checked the time. 6:35pm. There was no way the boys were back yet, and you knew that anyone else would’ve called before coming over. This was bad. Quickly, you shoved your phone into your sweatpants and ran to your bedroom. As soon as your foot crossed the threshold, the front door slammed open.

“What the fuck Tsukasa? Did you need to kick the door in?” A man’s voice yelled out.

“Did you want to get into the apartment or not?” another voice, Tsukasa you assumed, responded.

“We could’ve used a credit card to get in. That normally works for me and DOESN’T ALERT THE WHOLE DAMN NEIGHBORHOOD!” You heard rustling and assumed that the men had made it into the apartment. Making your way to the closet which had a hidden door in case something like this happened, you slid the fake panel out of the way and shimmied inside before sliding it back like nothing had happened. 

Your phone was still tucked into the pocket of your pants. You knew you had to call Eijirou, or at least Kaminari because if Eijirou didn’t answer that meant Bakugou wouldn’t either. Sliding it out and unlocking it was as far as you got before you heard the men come into the bedroom. Your breath caught in your throat and you hesitated, debating on not moving or breathing until they left the bedroom and you could call someone to help you. As you move to put your phone back into your pocket, your ringtone alerting the men to your presence. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” You mumble under your breath, quickly moving to decline the incoming call. Kirishima’s name popped up on your phone screen, more than likely wanting to let you know that they were on their way home and to check on you and your daughter. You declined the call and shoved your phone into your pocket before crouching into a corner as far away from the panel as possible. 

“Find where they are now.” Tsukasa said calmly. The door to the closet slammed open and clothes were shoved around as they tried to find you. You hoped that they wouldn’t notice the false panel in the back of the closet. Those hopes were dashed as you felt a hand clamp onto your ankle and drag you out. Your hands scrambled around for the bat hidden in your closet and finally closed on its handle. Taking a deep breath, you swung the bat as hard as you could against your captor. The sound of metal hitting could be heard and you hoped you’d swung hard enough to do some damage. 

Pain radiated through your cheek and it took a few moments to realize you had been slapped.

“Stupid bitch. You thought you could hide didn’t ya?” A tall, dark haired man chuckled.

“Easy for you to say Kizuki, you did not get hit with a bat.” The other man was stocky and tall, with long dark brown hair glared at you. 

“What do you think Tsukasa, should we kill her or keep her?” One of the men, Kizuki, asked his partner.

“She may be useful. And if not, we can dispose of her later.” Tsukasa responded.

You reached for the bat again, hoping to strike them when they were distracted, but it was taken from your hands just as fast as you had reached for it. 

“No, no. You’re not pulling that again. Go to sleep, little bitch. You’re in for a rude awakening when you wake.” 

The last thing you saw was a fist flying towards your face before the world turned black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirishima tried your number for the fifth time since leaving the job.You hardly ever declined his calls after jobs, wanting to make sure the three of them were fine and wanting to know the exact moment they would be home so you could have the first aid kits out and ready. If you ever did decline, you would always shoot him a text letting him know why. That didn’t happen this time, and he had a bad feeling settling into his stomach. He clicked away from the phone app, clicking Find My Friends instead. Thankfulness settled over him that he had talked you into downloading it shortly into your relationship so he could make sure nothing happened to you while you were out or for instances like this. 

“Shit.” He muttered, noticing that your phone didn’t pop up onto the screen, just a Last known location popping up. 

“Guys we might have a problem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain was the first thing you felt before slowly cracking your eyes open. Well, eye. Your right one was swollen shut. You tried to rub your face and noticed that your hands were tied behind your back and to a chair. Surveying where you were the best you could with one eye, you noticed you were in a bare room with nothing in it except a light, a table with an ashtray, and another chair across from where you were sitting. Your head was throbbing.

“Well, well. Look who’s awake.” Kizuki stated as he walked into the room and sat across from you. A cigarette hung from his lips, ashes falling onto the floor. 

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you just kill me when you saw someone was home?” You glared at the man, subtly eyeing him up and down. He was tall, not as stocky as your boyfriend, and you’d yet to see him use his quirk. Eijirou will still take him down in about two seconds. He was in for a rude awakening when Kirishima arrived. It was basically a death sentence for anyone who messed with you before, but now that you were pregnant with his child he was extremely overprotective.

“Why else would I keep a beautiful woman alive? There’s too many men around here. None of us can unwind after a long day and we needed someone to take care of us sweet cheeks. That’s where you come in. Now, you can either agree and this can be the start of a wonderful partnership, or you can fight back and I can give you some scars on that pretty little body.” He chuckles, standing from his chair before caressing the side of your face.

A slow smile spread across your features. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” You asked sweetly.

“Why would I? You’re nobody important in the hero world that I know of, and someone living where you do had to know something like this could happen. You don’t exactly live in the best area.” He smirked at you.

“Did you ever think there was a reason why someone like me was living there? Like maybe I had connections to villains and not heroes?” You saw his face go white for a split second before he regained his composure. He removed his hand from your face and slid it into his pocket.

“Why would I care if you had ties to the villains? Besides, you couldn’t have been that important to them if they left you there all by yourself.” 

“Have you ever heard of Red Riot? Maybe Dynamight or Chargebolt?” You noticed the minute the dots connected in his head. 

“No, there’s no fucking way. I would know if any of them had a bitch.” Kizuki sputtered.

“Yeah, no you wouldn’t. Riot’s really good at keeping me hidden from the world. Especially when he has Dynamight and Chargebolt helping to keep me hidden.” You chuckled seeing the color drain from his face. He knows they’re in trouble now. Hopefully Tsukasa is here too so Eijirou can kill them both and we can move without anyone knowing about me and the baby.

Kizuki opened his mouth to say something before shutting it tightly and walking out of the room. You sighed, collapsing in on yourself slightly. Exhaustion settled over you like a heavy blanket. Eijirou where are you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days had passed and you were still tied to the same chair. The only times you were allowed to be untied was when you had to use the bathroom. Kizuki or Tsukasa fed you, and as far as you could tell they were the only two in this area with you. You were unsure if it was a house, apartment, or just some random building that they were using as a base for the time being. Kizuki had alerted Tsukasa that you were “property of Red Riot” as he had worded it, and neither one of them spoke to you unless it was absolutely necessary. You were going crazy.

“Can’t you guys just let me go? I won’t tell Riot that I know who kidnapped me. I’ll tell him that I never saw anyone, my head was constantly covered. You can let me go in some alleyway and I’ll find my way home.” You plead for what felt like the thousandth time.

Tsukasa let out a low grunt and shook his head. Knowing that was all you’d get from him, you turned your attention to the TV they had brought in for you while they tried to figure out where to go from there.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

It was safe to say that Eijirou knew you were gone, and you knew that he would tear down every building in the city until he knew that you were safe in his arms. The crime toll had risen drastically in the last few days and you could tell what of the damage shown was Eijirou, Bakugou and Kaminari. The buildings and areas destroyed by the three of them were always left collapsed and on fire, with the power grid having been overloaded right before the attacks. Eijirou was looking for his girls and it was only a matter of time before he got to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten days after your abduction Kizuki ran into the room looking terrified. 

“I passed someone on the street saying that Red Riot was in the area. We have to lea-” A loud explosion cut him off and threw him against the wall. Small slices of pain spread across your body as debris hit you. Smoke filled the room, blocking your vision and making you cough. Groaning filled the small space as Kizuki tried to move. A blonde headed figure flew across the room and picked him up by the throat.

“You think it was smart to take one of the most feared villains girl? Do you have a death wish stupid fuck?” Bakugou’s voice growled out. Relief flooded your senses. Eijirou had finally found you, now he just had to get to you.

“I-I-I didn’t know! We had just picked an apartment to ransack and she happened to be there! I didn’t know she was Riot’s girl, please don’t kill me!” Kizuki had tears streaming down his face as Bakugou pressed into his throat tighter.

“Where. The fuck. Is she?” A more familiar voice called out. The calmness in his voice was terrifying. You had never heard him talk like that, and it both turned you on and terrified you. 

“Ei! I’m right here.” You called out, trying once again to break the rope holding your hands behind your back. You felt wind fill the room, clearing the smoke in a split second. Rage overtook Kirishima’s face as he took in your disheveled state. Your black eye, though fading, was still prominent on your face. Bruises and dried blood were covering your wrists from trying to break your restraints, and you looked almost emaciated from ten days with little food. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly before he rushed to your side. He quickly cut the ropes from your wrist with his quirk, careful to not cut you while doing so.

“It’s okay baby. I’m here now okay? I’m gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna go home I promise. I just have to take care of a few things first. Can you go through the hole Bakugou made and go out there with Kami?” Kirishima asked. He slowly rubbed his thumbs over your wrists and you relaxed, leaning your body weight against him. Ten days being tied to a chair and only being allowed to walk to the bathroom had taken its toll on you. Your legs were weak and Kirishima had to wrap his arm around your waist to help you up.

“Ei, I don’t think I can walk out there to him. Can’t you carry me?” You whined in his ear.

“No baby I can’t carry you. I have to find the other fucking idiot who decided it would be smart to kidnap my girls. I’ll yell for Kami to come grab you okay? And do not move from his side. I’ll be out as soon as I get done with these idiots.” Kirishima kissed your forehead and you wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“I don’t wanna leave you baby. Can’t I just stay here until you’re done with them? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and the baby can’t see yet anyway. Please don’t make me leave you. I went ten days not knowing if I’d see you again. Please don’t make me leave.” You whimpered. His arms tightened slightly around your waist. 

“Go sit back down okay? It won’t take long for me to take care of them.” He kissed you softly on the lips and helped you sit on the chair you’d been tied to five minutes ago. As soon as you sat down, a flip switched in Kirishima. 

“Where’s the other one?” He growled out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about man I’m the only one here. It was just me.” Kizuki gasped out. Bakugou’s hand was still pressed against his windpipe making it hard for him to breathe. Kirishima hardened his hand and slammed it into the wall next to Kizuki’s head making him yelp.

“I don’t like being lied to. I know there were two of you involved, now tell me where the fuck he is so I can kill you both and get on with my life.”

“You better do it man. We can make your death swift or painful and drawn out, it’s really up to you.” Bakugou shrugged casually. The sound of water hitting the floor hit your ears and you realized that Kizuki had pissed himself. 

“That’s disgusting. Shitty hair just kill him now, we can find the other one after.” 

Kirishima grabbed Kizuki by his hair and pushed him down to his knees. Hardening his arm again, he pressed it tightly against Kizuki’s neck before glancing up at you.

“Don’t watch princess.” He told you. You looked up at the ceiling before the sound of blood dripping and gagging hit your ears. A loud thump alerted you that you could look again. Kizuki’s body laid in a crumpled heap at the feet of your boyfriend and his best friend. Blood surrounded him, and you figured that Kirishima had used his quirk to slit the man’s throat. You sighed and cleared your throat.

“The other man’s name is Tsukasa. He’s the one who hit me and knocked me out when they came into the apartment. He’s in here somewhere, but I don’t know where. Eiji, please let Bakugou find him and let’s go home? It’s just those two. I’m positive he can take him on his own.” You begged. Bakugou shrugged. 

“I mean I can just demolish the place with him inside if you want me to shitty hair.”

“No. This dumbass hurt my girls, make him suffer.” Kirishima responded. Bakugou smiled and turned to search the rest of the building. Hands wrapped themselves around yours and Kirishima hoisted you up onto your feet. 

“Are you two okay?” He asked, his right hand grabbing both of yours and his left hand moving to rub your belly slightly. 

“As good as can be, I guess. I’m starving though, and I just want to go home and shower.” You sighed contently, wrapping your arms around your lover once more and leaning your head into his chest. 

“We’re not going home. We’re gonna go to a hotel, Kaminari and Bakugou are gonna grab anything you want and need from the apartment, and when you feel better we’re gonna go look at houses. I know it was just a fluke, but we need to make sure that no one else knows who you are or where you are. I can’t lose the two of you.” He glanced into your eyes and you noticed the unshed tears covering his. A massive explosion from somewhere within the building drew your attention away from each other. 

“Sounds like Bakugou got a hold of the other guy.” Kirishima chuckled. He knelt down slightly, grabbing the back of your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into it. 

“Oi, you two coming or are ya gonna wait for the police to get here?” Bakugou yelled out. You looked up at him, noticing his soot covered face and smiled. 

“Yeah yeah Blasty. Let’s get out of here.”

[rovelae]

Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

           Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

           This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

           If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

           The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

           From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

             There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

           “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

           He really wishes Shuichi was here.

           Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

             To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

           The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

           It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

             He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

           “Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

           “Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

           “Like a killing game.”

           The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

           “You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

           “You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

           “Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

           DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

           “Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

             Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

             “Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

           Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

           “They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

           “Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

           “There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

           “Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

           “Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

           ….

           “These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

             I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

           Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

           Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

             “SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

           “Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

           The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

           Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

             Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

             Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

           Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

             This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

           Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

             Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

           “Um… Kokichi?”

           Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

           “I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

           “My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

           “It’s about Kaito.”

             This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

           It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

           Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

             “Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

           “That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

           Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

           Was that a lie?

           (I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

           His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

             I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

             “Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

           “Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

           Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

           It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

           “I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

           You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

           But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

             I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi’s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

             The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

           “Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

           “Huh…?”

           Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

           So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

             That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

             Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

           When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

           “Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

           “Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

           Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

           And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

           It’s a lie.

             Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

             Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

           He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

           He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

           White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

           He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

           He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

           When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

           “I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

           I love you.

           He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

             I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

           The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

           Which do you think?

           Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

             “How did you know?” he finally croaks.

           Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

           Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

           “You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

           “‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

           Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

           Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

           “No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

           “Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

           Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

           “I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

             Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

             Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

           But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

           …Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

           But still….

           “I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

           “You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

           Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

           Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

           “I promise, Kokichi.”

…        

           “Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

           Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

           “I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

           Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

           Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

           Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

           “Trust me,” he murmurs.        

           Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

           Trustworthy….

           “I do trust you,” he realizes.

             Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

             And that’s a wrap!

           Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

           Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else  you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

           I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

           Until next time!

[qqueenofhades]

pel!ivan and fedyor went through a lot of ups and some downs from the end of pel and 2021 but they also celebrated 10 years together 🥳 i hope fedyor shoved cake into ivan’s face and also you know, im sure they were mushy like the saps they are

Ivan was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago – actually, at this point, more like twenty – but the clients are still fucking talking, and if they keep it up much longer, he’s going to add it to the bill for “initial consultation.” Drew has a man-bun and unbearably hip black glasses, and works as a developer for some start-up app that he’s tried to convince Ivan to download at least twelve times. (What does the app actually do? Don’t know don’t care.) Mia is thin, blonde, waifish, smells like essential oils, and has been flitting around with her smartphone the entire time, getting in Ivan’s way as she snaps perfectly filtered pictures of the “developmental process” and posts them nonstop on Instagram. They both have a lot of opinions on how they want the energy of the space to feel, and a preapproved list of ethically sourced suppliers. They have paid some ludicrous price for this converted loft in Prospect Heights and chose the location for its proximity to the best farmer’s markets and hippie coffeehouses. Did Ivan die? Is this hell?

Somewhat ostentatiously, he looks at his watch. “Okay,” he announces. “I think that wraps up. You have work number, so – ”

“Oh, just one more thing!” Drew has recently read one (1) book on home design and thinks he’s an expert, so Ivan is forced to suffer his idiotic opinions about the kind of tile they want to use on the kitchen backsplash. Somehow, he manages not to roll his eyes directly out of his head, for which he should be commended. Ivan has discovered that the secret of successfully dealing with people, especially clients, is to smile and nod at everything they say, while mercilessly mocking them in your head. Amazing, the things you learn as a small-business owner in Brooklyn in the year of our lord 2021. Especially when it comes to renovating overpriced tiny gentrified apartments for insufferable techno-douchebags and their vapid influencer girlfriends. And people think Ivan might want to live like this more often? No fucking thank you.

Finally (it’s another ten minutes after that, this is definitely going on the bill), they more or less wrap up, except for the fact that Mia then wants a picture with the three of them. “It’s just so important to us that we’re supporting the immigrant community,” she explains earnestly. “After all, being open, tolerant, learning from our neighbors, people who are different from us, that’s what life is all about. We just love that you’re foreign. The energy feels so right, you know?”

Ivan wonders whether to inform her that he has lived in this country for eight years and been a full citizen (passport and voting rights and everything) for three, then decides that this would venture into sharing-personal-information territory and he is having none of it. His English has improved to the point where he can handle almost all business transactions by himself, but feigning incomprehension can sometimes get him out of them when they turn really stupid. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option here, and so he diligently leans into the frame, smiling half an inch, while Mia snaps a picture of “us and our adorable Russian contractor!!” Ivan informs her of the correct flag emoji to add to the filter, decides that he’s going to add an extra fifty bucks just for that, and finally, finally, makes his escape.

It’s rush hour, and the Q is crammed as Ivan heads into midtown. So much for social distancing and not getting too close to anyone, which is the only thing from the pandemic that he wouldn’t mind keeping. Only about half the crowd is wearing masks, including him, and so he gets off at Times Square, dodges the latest lunatic standing on a soapbox and shouting about how it is all a hoax, and walks several blocks uptown, just to get some space. He finally reaches the restaurant, where he has to flash his vaccination card to get inside (Ivan, who remains Russian to the marrow of his bones, is a little irked that he couldn’t get Sputnik here and had to settle for Pfizer) and climbs up to the open-air rooftop terrace. It is only when he spots his husband, waiting at a table that overlooks the glittering evening lights of the city, when Ivan pulls off his mask and allows himself to properly smile. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “They are the worst.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Fedyor musters a smile in return, though his eyes look permanently tired these days and Ivan would bet that he’s been scrolling through more depressing emails on his phone. Technically Fedyor is on a two-month sabbatical from work, but he can’t stop himself, and Ivan has had to pry it from his fingers on a number of occasions. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Ivan nods stoutly, they are furnished with the drinks and appetizers list, and when the waiter asks if there’s any special occasion tonight, tell him that they are celebrating their ten-year anniversary, albeit somewhat late. This was supposed to happen last spring, but obviously, nobody in New York was going out to a restaurant in the early months of 2020, and Ivan himself had barely gotten home from the hospital and still could be knocked over in a strong breeze. They’re celebrating a lot of things tonight, in other words, even if it’s now been eleven years, not ten, since the day Ivan marched into a Red Square coffee shop and engaged in – well, Fedyor has made sure to inform him that the first date didn’t go nearly as well as Ivan always thought it did. But it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, wedding bands on their fingers, a couple of successful American urban professionals who have built a nice life for themselves and are, if anything, even more madly in love than they were when this whole nutty adventure together first began. So really, if you ask Ivan Sakharov Kaminsky, it went just fine after all.

The waiter congratulates them, gives them two drinks for the price of one, and they both relax and start to talk, fully at ease in the way they only are in each other’s company. Ivan does his Mia impression in an extremely convincing falsetto (after all, [NAME REDACTED] has practice at this) and Fedyor almost dies laughing. They hold hands on the table – no need to hold them under the table – and gaze into each other’s eyes all they want, order dinner and dessert, and take a long time about it. They raise several toasts to this, to them, to ten years, may there be many more. Ivan pays the bill, his treat, and they walk slowly back to Times Square, hand-in-hand, Fedyor’s head nestled on Ivan’s shoulder. It’s New York. Nobody cares.

They ride the Q home, in all its smelly, secondhand glory, taking an hour to bang out to Brighton Beach and descending the elevated stairs into the familiar down-at-heel comfort of their Russian-American neighborhood, neon Cyrillic signs glowing in windows and somebody shouting about how if Sergei ever shows his face here again, she is going to cut his dick off. Ivan and Fedyor look at each other and snort, resisting the urge to shout up and ask what exactly Sergei did, and walk a few more minutes to their building. They climb up three flights of stairs to their apartment, unlock the door and the deadbolt, and step inside.

The instant they are home, Rasputin shoots out of nowhere, yowling as if he has been neglected for months, and curls himself around Ivan’s ankles (he is still liable to give Fedyor evil looks when he feels that this interloper has been stealing his human too often). Ivan sighs, trudges to the kitchen, points out to Rasputin that his food bowl is still half full, gets a wounded look in return, and adds an extra scoopful. Once the cat is happily snarfing down, Fedyor pulls Ivan by the hand, into the dim living room with its blowing curtains. “Come here, my love,” he says. “Hold me.”

Ivan does as ordered, because it’s his favorite thing in the world: cuddling Fedyor close, nothing but the two of them in all of time and space, swaying slowly in the blue hour with fingers and arms and hearts entwined. Ivan kisses Fedyor’s temple, and Fedyor nestles even closer, melted into his embrace. “I love you, Vanya,” he mumbles against Ivan’s collarbone. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Fedya.” Ivan leans down and kisses him properly, sweet and slow and lingering, as they continue to waltz in stately time to a music that nobody except the two of them can hear. “I’m still not always sure why you married me, but I am very glad you did.”

[firefly-in-darkness]

Misconceptions - 1/12

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Y/N & Sam Wilson (briefly).

Summary: Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have...

Word Count: 2k.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, jealousy...

Beta: The always lovely, Stacey - @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

A/N: This is one started as a dream and after bouncing ideas around with Stacey & Bee @negans-lucille-tblr​​, this was born and half way through writing I knew it would be more than a one shot.... Hope you enjoy - I love hearing your feedback too!

Series List

Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

Bucky glared at the mirror, he didn’t like wearing a suit or attending parties. He’d rather be out of sight, watching from a distance. Not chaperoning Y/N on a recon mission. He adjusted the bowtie, it still looked wonky. He gruffed at his reflection, put on the jacket and pulled through his shirt sleeves, letting the cufflinks glisten against the black velvet.

Once he placed the earpiece in, he left his room in the hotel suite and wandered over to knock on Y/N’s door. He faltered at the sound of her sweet voice floating through.

“I just wish you were here.” He heard her soft sigh, could see the way she’d twist the end of her hair in between her fingers.

Bucky strained to hear the other side of the conversation but even his super soldier hearing couldn’t work out who was at the other end of the phone call. His heart raced at the thought of Y/N wanting to be with someone else. Not with him, her supposed best friend.

“I’m worried about how he’ll react.” 

He scoffed, clamping his hand over his mouth and steadied his breathing in the hope she hadn’t heard him outside. 

He stepped away, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to listen in then he heard a giggle and muffled words, he leant his ear to the door.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky felt sick. She’s fallen for someone that isn’t him. His mind swirled with anger, or was it jealousy?. He pulled away from the door, fingers running through his now shorter strands of hair. He couldn’t hear anymore but his heart panged at her last three words.

“Love you too.”

Jealousy was similar to anger but what he felt now was definitely jealousy.

He bolted from the hotel suite without a second thought.

Ten minutes earlier….

Y/N spritzed the perfume across her collarbone, dabbing a bit behind her ear and her wrists. A quick glance to the mirror brought a smile to her lips; for once she was able to wear something glamorous. She checked her up-do was still in place, admiring how such an easy few pins could create an elegant look. The off-the-shoulder black dress sparkled in the light, she twisted and almost giggled as the floor length gown swirled around her legs, the split exposing her smooth, unarmed thigh. 

Finally, she was able to hang up her catsuit and its attached gadgets and weapons for the night. Well, she still had a pistol strapped to her other thigh, obscured by the skirt and of course the knives concealed in her heels. It might be a reconnaissance mission but things could always escalate.

Her smile faltered as she remembered the man in his own part of the suite, getting ready to support her in the mission; James Buchanan Barnes. 

Her phone ringing gripped her attention, a selfie of Sam and herself pulling silly faces was lighting up her phone. She pounced on it and held the device to her ear with her shoulder whilst she checked the blades were secure in her heels.

“Hi baby girl,” His smooth voice sent a grin to her face.

“Hey handsome.” She crooned back.

“How are you?” He tentatively asked.

She took the phone away from her shoulder, standing and smoothing the skirt. “I'm okay. This bed is huge.”

“You're changing the subject.” Sam scolded her.

Y/N knew that his eyebrow had quirked upwards and winced. Of course, he was checking up on her because of her mission partner.

“I don't know if I can handle this mission with him.” She sighed and sat back down in the chair, gliding the pendant of her necklace along its chain.

“Yes you can, it's only a recon mission. He's your back up.” Sam’s voice altered to that of her superior.

“I just wish you were here.” Y/N whined, and if she hadn’t refrained herself she might have stomped her foot.

Sam’s tone remained strong, not settling for her tantrum. “He's best qualified for this and you know it.”

“Yeah, you're right. it's one night.” She whispered.

“You still haven't told him have you?” Sam’s voice softened.

Y/N began pacing back and forth in front of the floor to ceiling window before heading back towards the door, “I don't know how to tell him. I’m worried about how he’ll react.”

He huffed, “Seriously! Go to his room right now and tell him how you feel.”

Y/N’s stomach lurched at his demand, “I can't. Not yet. He’s my friend and if I tell him this, it will make things awkward.”

“You know you need to tell him. Try it on me first. I can pretend to be the tin man, let me get into 

Character. Dark and brooding. Grumpy old man.”

She took a seat at the dressing table, a giggle falling from her lipsticked mouth, “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Go on, hit me with your best line.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and sighed, “I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me crazy.”

“Yes, a little basic but whatever, now go tell him. If you don't then I will when you get back.” Sam chuckled.

She stood as apprehension filled her thoughts, alongside her fear of being rejected, “Don't you dare, this needs to come from me.”

“Okay sugar, good luck, text me. Love ya”

“Love you too” With her phone locked, she placed it into the clutch bag that complimented her outfit. 

Y/N’s head spun as she heard the suite door close, eyebrows furrowed as to why Bucky had left without her. She gathered her skirt and followed after him, in the hope to catch up with him before they entered the gala.

Y/N was not in luck, she entered the party alone. Even though her mind was reeling with uncertainty, she held her head high as she weaved amongst the guests and those carrying trays of canapes. Her eyes flickered around the room, trying to catch sight of Bucky but kept being distracted by others attempting to make conversation about their businesses, charity donations and anything that made them seem better people than they really were.

Their mark appeared and Bucky was beside him with his back to her, a blonde woman draped on his arm. Y/N’s heart dropped into your stomach, and it churned at the sight of his arm wrapping around the strange woman’s waist and hand gliding down her back to grip her bottom. Her eyes went back up to their faces, focusing on whether or not this was a distraction technique from Bucky.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She whispered into the comms.

Y/N’s dress swished around her feet as she darted across the room, glancing back to see Bucky watching her; his lips on the rim of his whiskey glass, eyes dark and jaw set tightly before he turned back to the woman. She shook her head at his lack of response and carried on towards the double doors leading to the elevator. A bodyguard stood to the side and she tripped straight into him.

“Oh my, I am so sorry.” She fluttered her eyes and let out a soft giggle, “I think it’s time for me to go to bed.”

“No worries ma’am,” He lifted her upright, a grin on his lips as he drank in the sight of her exposed cleavage and doe eyes. 

She clutched his arm as he guided her to the door, her other hand unhooking the access card from his belt.

“Let me get the door for you, Miss, take it easy.”

Y/N sauntered through, nodding as she passed him. Entering the elevator and giving him a small wave. She pressed the door close button before she swiped the stolen card against the penthouse access pad.

As the elevator ascended, she sunk against the metal wall, flicking her skirt to the side and unhooking the glock from it’s holster on her thigh. She checked the magazine, clicking back in place with the palm of her hand. The doors opened with a chime and she entered, gun raised while her eyes took in her surroundings. Not much had changed since she visited two weeks ago, learning the layout and setting up the bugs to gain an insight on the criminal.

Without hesitation, she strode down the corridor to the study and rolled her eyes as she pushed the door open. Not even locked, this is too easy. She rounded the desk, opening the lid of the laptop and entered the password. A smug smirk accompanied the wink she sent to the camera hidden in the bookcase knowing Sam was watching back at base.

She pulled out the lipstick from her clutch, taking off the lid to reveal the hidden USB drive. Plugging it into the laptop and downloading it’s contents. Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot waiting for the green bar to fill but it was painfully slow. 

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Her eyes widened as she heard Bucky’s voice through the ear piece. The sultry tone made her freeze from removing the USB stick.

“Okay, one more dance and then I’ll show you a real good time.” His words sent pangs through her chest.

A giggle drifted around your mind, they must have been inches away from one another.

“Oh Doll, don’t tease me like that. We don’t want anyone to see.” The term of endearment and the image of what they could be doing brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. 

She ripped the ear piece out and threw it into her clutch. A quick glance to the camera, she shook her head, knowing Sam had also heard what was happening. She detached the drive, leaving the penthouse and striding back to their suite as quickly as possible.

Y/N marched into her room, kicking off her heels and began attempting to get out of her dress. The zip getting caught, a frustrated groan rumbled through her body. She clambered at the tag, and eventually was able to pull it down her back and let it drop, pooling at her feet. Stepping out of it as she pulled the pins from her hair, letting it cascade down her back.

Once Y/N had put on her pj top and shorts, she grabbed her wash bag and headed into the bathroom. She brushed through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, removed her makeup and moisturised her face, focusing on the repetitive motion of massaging her cheeks. But then the tears began to fall, they were hot on her cheeks and her breath dragged harshly through her lungs, almost choking on the sob. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.

As Y/N rinsed her mouth and put her toothbrush back in it’s case, she heard the sounds of laughter and stomping outside. Even though she felt sick at the sound of their happiness, she yanked the door open and walked out the bathroom. Y/N found them, bodies backed against the wall, in a state of undress; Bucky’s bowtie was hanging loose, the shirt open and his pants discarded down the hallway and her in a tiny lace set that didn’t leave anything to the imagination.

“Oh, who’s this?” The high pitch squeak from Bucky’s companion grated Y/N’s nerves.

Bucky spun around, “Oh that’s just a friend. Staying in the other room.”

Y/N stormed past him to her room. She heard the laughter pick up and the door shut to his bedroom. The giggles began to drift into moans and she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She plugged in her earphones to her cell and blasted the music whilst she filled the cabin bag with her belongings as quickly as she could.

With a quickly scrawled note on a napkin, placed on the bed for Bucky to find in the morning, she left the hotel without a second thought.

Continue Here...

[octanesimp3000]

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/80096569

Summary:

Just when you thought your fake relationship with Octavio was running smoothly, a brief tussle with your feelings threatens to break the bond that you two have built over the past couple weeks.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

————————————————————————–

“So Octane, can you tell us what compelled you to confess your feelings to Ms. Y/L/N during that game? Weren’t you worried that an enemy squad might try and catch you off-guard?”

You sat with your legs crossed and your back straight in the hard chair that had been provided by the news station. The interviewer had finally stopped tiptoeing around the subject and got to the point of why you and Octavio had been invited today to this interview. You weren’t worried this time though. The previous day, the Syndicate had made sure that they’d run through every possible question that could be asked about your ‘relationship’ several times, and the both of you were ready for anything coming your way.

Octavio pretended to give his answer a moment’s thought, scratching his nose through his mask while his right bionic leg bounced the entire time. He didn’t do too well with staying still for long periods of time unless he was asleep or knocked out cold as one could expect from the high-speed daredevil. He finally spoke up, saying “Well, we kinda fought a bit before then. Y/N was worried that I was being too, uh...reckless! I got a bit annoyed at that cause I’m Octane, duh. But then, I realized she was only worried ‘cause she cares about me and I think that’s when I knew I had to tell her I cared about her too, you know?”

You reached out to take Octavio’s hand into yours, smiling over at him as sweetly as you could muster for the cameras. “I don’t think Octane was really thinking about enemy squads then. I know I wasn’t,” you said to the interview with a small laugh. As the interviewer launched into their next question about whether your relationship has brought any changes to those with the other Legends in the Apex Games, you felt Octavio gently drawing shapes on the top of your hand with his thumb. You felt your cheeks flush at the sensation but you handled the question with confidence and poise.

After a few more questions, the interview finally ended. You and Octavio climbed into the back of the black sedan sent by the Syndicate that would take you back to the dropship, feeling relieved that it had gone well. “That was kinda fun. I didn’t think you were gonna just grab my hand like that,” Octavio said before pulling his mask down to take a gulp of water from a plastic bottle.

“I thought the audience might find it cute. Do you think they’re gonna buy it?,” you asked with a satisfied grin. Octavio placed the bottle of water into the small compartment by the car door and turned to you with a thoughtful expression, his cheeks tinted pink. After a moment’s thought, Octavio merely responded with a shrug even though he definitely looked as if he’d wanted to say something and took out his phone from his pocket to play some new game he’d downloaded.

Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm at your genius, you folded your arms across your chest and gazed out of the window as the car sped past the ruins of the Capitol City. So much history had happened here and now, it had been created into a killer playground for a game that people all around the world tuned in to.

As the sedan began to approach the roped-off area where the zip line that would take you up to the dropship’s entrance was situated, you could see the crowd of fans being held back by security. You could see several cardboard signs being held up that were drawn on with markers that said stuff like “I LOVE YOU, OCTANE” and “I WANNA GO FAST FAST FAST WITH YOU” which you honestly hoped was in the hands of an adult. Some were also wearing your merchandise with your signature quip printed over it.

Once the sedan had slowed to a stop in front of the fancy red carpet that would take you to the zip line, you opened the car door and stepped out. You were waving at the crowd which started cheering loudly when you suddenly felt Octavio, who had been standing to your left, suddenly slip his hand into yours. You turned to him with a surprised expression and Octavio leaned in close to your ear, whispering “Gotta keep up the act now, don’t we, mi princesa?”

Octavio began waving to his fans while posing for their photos as he guided you towards the zip line. You hoped your face wasn’t too red because you sure felt like your heart was about to explode from how fast it was beating. Why had Octavio whispering that in your ear gotten you so riled up, and why had his voice sounded so goddamned attractive then? You weren’t sure what was happening to your emotions right then but you were ready to get out of the public’s eye so you could stress about it privately.

Once you both had entered the dropship, you lied that you needed to go check with Ajay about something so he wouldn’t know where to find you before dashing off in the opposite direction of wherever Octavio was headed. You immediately went to the one place where you knew you’d be able to think for a bit: Pathfinder’s dorm. The other Legends rarely came by there even though Pathfinder often tried to invite them over to play a board game or two. You’d spent quite a lot of time with the robot however. You’d always felt bad that the others didn’t treat him as nicely as he did to them so you tried to make it up by being a friend.

Pathfinder was always peppy and eager to talk, but you knew that if you told him you needed some quiet to think things out, he’d happily oblige. “Hello, Y/N! How are you doing this fine day?,” Pathfinder asked with a cheery voice and a happy emoji on the screen in the centre of his chest when he answered the door. He stepped back to let you into his dorm and you immediately fell down onto one of the comfy bean bags that Pathfinder had set up in case he had any visitors.

“Would you like to play a game together? I saw on the Internet that humans like to play Monopoly so I went and got one, what fun we shall have!,” Pathfinder said happily as he pulled out the box from the bottom shelf of his bookshelf. He noticed that you had your face buried in your hands, elbows resting on your thighs and he asked “Are you not feeling too good, Y/N? I’m certified medically to help if you need it.”

You gazed up at him and said “I’m fine, Path. Don’t worry. I’m just...experiencing an emotional crisis about something I can’t even tell anyone about.” The screen on Pathfinder’s chest displayed a sad face as he moved to sit down on the bean bag next to you. He gently patted you on the head in a gesture he hoped would bring you comfort. You smiled “Thank you, Path. You’re the best.”

“Thank you, friend! I like you too,” Pathfinder said, the emoji having now changed into a smiley face with little hearts around it. You leaned back on the bean bag and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. Maybe it was just because you’d spent so much time with Octavio in a fake relationship lately that you were beginning to imagine that you had feelings for him. Or could those butterflies you felt in your stomach earlier be genuine? You weren’t sure, and that was exactly what was bothering you. Could you actually be developing feelings for Octavio?

As soon as you thought that, you immediately tried to shake the idea off. There was no way. You must just be imagining it all. You had feelings for Elliott, not Octavio. Satisfied that you’d come to a conclusion, you decided to put any thought of it out of your mind and agreed to a quick game of chess with Pathfinder who seemed delighted to have some company that afternoon.

The quick game turned into four when you refused to leave without winning at least one round. Pathfinder was more than pleased to have you around but you suspected that he might have just let you win that final round just because you were starting to look a little bit frustrated. You walked back to your dormitory after stopping by the cafeteria for a snack and was busily digging around the brown paper bag for the last cookie as you bumped the dormitory’s door closed when you noticed that Octavio was in the room too.

A very unclothed Octavio at that.

He had his back to you, his hair and body dripping wet as if he’d just come out of the shower, a dark green towel pooled around his bionic legs. The moment you caught sight of his bare backside, you yelped in surprise and dropped your cookie in your hurry to cover your eyes with your hands. “Octavio, why didn’t you change in the bathroom like you did yesterday?!,” you asked as you turned to face towards the door and failed to judge your distance from it, causing you to bump your forehead right into it. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay, Y/N?!,” Octavio asked worriedly as he hurried over to you, not having processed what had led up to this line of events in the first place. You could feel him hovering beside you, trying to see where you had hurt yourself but you kept twisting away to avoid accidentally seeing more of Octavio’s body parts than you’d already seen. Seeming to finally sense what you were so panicked over, he finally moved back to the side of the dormitory he was previously at and put on the tank top and gray sweatpants he’d laid out before.

When Octavio said that he was dressed, you finally allowed yourself to remove your hands from your eyes and cautiously turned around to face him. “You didn’t tell me when you were coming back so after I went for a few spins around the range, I thought I’d quickly take a shower and change here. I didn’t think you’d come back so soon, sorry,” Octavio apologised quickly as he proceeded to towel his hair dry.

“I-It’s fine. Just please get dressed in the bathroom before you come back to the room in the future,” you said, not knowing exactly where to look. The gray sweatpants were honestly not helping either. To hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you bent down to sweep up the cookie and its crumbs into the palm of your hand before dumping them into the trash can. Inside the trash can, you spotted numerous empty syringes stained green from the stim Octavio used to increase his movement speed. Why’d he throw them away here if he’d used them in the practice range?

You were just about to ask Octavio about it when you noticed that he was frowning at you. “You lied to me earlier, Y/N. I bumped into Ajay on my way back here and she said she’s not seen you since yesterday,” Octavio said as he folded his arms across his chest. His anger suddenly faded and his voice gave away the pain and confusion he was feeling. “Why would you lie to me about something stupid like that?”

Surprised at this reaction, you tried to reply as best as you could without giving away what you were actually doing but failing terribly because your words came out sounding harsher than you’d planned them to be “I just...I just needed some space, okay? We’ve spent almost 24/7 with each other and I just needed a break from that. I was with Pathfinder playing Monopoly, not with Ajay. I only told you that because I didn’t want you to find me if you came looking for me, I’m sorry.”

When Octavio finally processed your words, his eyes widened and he quietly asked “So, what you’re saying is I’ve been too...what, clingy? You don’t like having me around, is that it?” You were lost for words. You didn’t understand how Octavio had made a connection between you needing some space and you not wanting to be around him entirely. But before you could try and correct him, Octavio said with a firm steeliness visible in his light green eyes “Fine. I’ll give you space.”

“Octavio, don’t be silly. I was just-wait, come back!,” you’d desperately started to explain what you’d meant when Octavio dashed out of the dormitory past you, slamming the door roughly behind him. You sat down abruptly onto the bed and flopped onto your back. Why was being in a fake relationship so hard?

[cloviaglade]

THE CRIMSON FLOWER ROUTE CORPORATE UNION AU

Yeah it came to me in a dream shared it with a friend and she said I should inflict it on the world so here we go

Warning: It's super long but I broke it up into chunks

(note not all members of the house fall into the categories listed also I'm not the best with corporate terms and positions. Also this was made for fun and isn't that serious)

The houses

The Black eagles generally were in accounting or sales. They dealt with a lot of the customers firsthand and were considered expendable

Blue lions where mostly in HR or IT

Golden deer mostly worked in maintenance and public relations.

Staff and church members are members of the board. Flayn has her position on the board despite her age because nepotism

The Seiros Co:

It's a large company that provide a large array of services and products that promote physical and emotional well-being. The company started out with good intentions but soon became a corporate monster

The company provides a host of benefits to its employees including on site housing, on site restraunts, on site pools gyms ect. They even have the best insurance on the planet. They even have horse therapy.

However they have to pay premiums on the health insurance, their rent is docted from their pay, they have to pay for on-site facilities, and those living on site are heavily encouraged to work overtime.

a lot of this is justified by cover every single health expense and days of for minor colds. Many employees seek mental health care more often than they seek physical care.

The on site living conditions vary heavily. Most are just a small white room with a single bed and a dresser. No visitors after certain hours and forget about outside visitors. However rumors are spreading that the board members have spacious luxury apartments.

The pay without all the benefits is not a wage you could live off of. But with the rent for these rooms doct from your pay you couldn't reasonably save up for different arrangements.

The strike begins:

Edelguard was finally fed up watching her team struggling. She hears constantly about how her workers are not making enough. How they have to scrape because they needed new clothes or shoes. Or worse how Petra wasn't able to support her sick grandfather

She hired a lawyer Hubert to look into information about their contracts and compare everything to labor laws. She needed to know how much of this was legal and if there was anything to be done about it.

Huberts lawfirm dealt with several lawsuits in the past. They are considered ruthless in court however media painted them out to be money hungry and demented

As expected, it was legal (mostly due to lack of regulation for these types of benefits) but really unfair, So Hubert suggested a strike. His firm would handle all the legal matters as they prepared a lawsuit and to unionize.

Edelguard was careful to organize it in private. Nothing was emailed. Nothing to tract them. Flyers were handwritten and posted in the dorms inviting members to secret meeting on slow hours.

Roles

What everyone did on the day of the strike/position they were in the office.

Black eagles

Edalguard: head of sales- she got everyone in her department and many others in different departments to simply stop working for the day when she commanded everyone to stop working via megaphone. She suck in hubert and went to a private meeting room to set up a list of demands.

Hubert: head of Vestra lawfirm- he snuck past security with the help of Edelguard. He brought a laptop and a phone with Hotspot so he could video call the rest of his attorneys from inside the conference room. Once the strike was in full swing he toured the place with Edelguard gathering evidence.

Ferdinand: senior sale manager has the highest customer satisfaction - when the strike was well underway he sent a mass email to everyone in every department including the CEO and founder herself in a very professional tone about how there is a strike. Lornez replied immediately and they when to the breakroom to enjoy tea while on the clock.

Lindhart: IT software specialist - first thing he did was turn off all the bans on websites. Everyone could go on whatever website they wanted to. He left the download blocker up and other safety precautions in place. Others could looks at memes and scroll through social media ect. He then returns to his dorm and takes a paid nap.

Caspar: manager in accounting slow but very accurate and a real team player - he hated the no pets policy with a burning passion so he let all the stray and feral cats that hang around the building in through one of the side doors. They stayed mostly on the ground floor and a few made a mess under the desks. He played with the strays with a few of his co-workers.

Bernadette: customer service rep. - she hated the calls filled with angry people. She clocked out, disconnected he phone, ran into her dorm and screamed into her pillow until calm. Once she calmed down enough she did some embroidery.

Dorothea: sales representative- has the highest upsale rate - she gets into her car and just leaves. She is still clocked in. Nobody knows where she went. Some say she met with a lover, others say she went on a binge. Nobody really knows.

Petra: bilingual sales rep. - she signed her phone off and immediately called up her family overseas. She proceeded to catch up and talk with her family for hours. She rarely got to speak with them due to the difference in timezones.

Blue lions

Dimitri: head of IT - he doesn't actually know much about IT and has little intrest in it. He got the job because his dad recommended him. With the outside website ban lifted and the lost of control of his department he frantically tried to get everything under control

Dedue: cyber security and protocol educator - although the bans are lifted he is still concerned about a cyber attack. He is frantically try to restore the ban but it seems like lindhart deleted the code.

Felix: hardware specialists - he was the one who should've been promoted into Dimitri's position and is a bit smug about how everything is falling apart in front of his boss. He bypasses the download blocker and plays minecraft on the company computer. Dimitri is too busy to notice that felix isn't helping.

Sylvain: HR rep. - he knew from the start that working conditions were shit. He was tired of trying to raise moral by doing everything but paying the employees more, giving them time off, and reasonable working hours. He went to the break room where Ferdinand and Lornez were having tea and ate a bunch of the snacks the company was reselling at super high prices then faxed a picture of his ass and balls to rhea herself as a letter of resignation.

Ashe: new hire in IT - was called down to the first floor to replace a keyboard a cat peed on. Found caspar was the reason the cats were let in. Caspar then persuaded him to play with the cats instead of shooing them out. 3 hours later he completely forgot about the strike and clocked out per usual. He completely forgot about the strike

Mercedes: head of HR - she meets with the board and discussed what to do about the strikers. They can't force them to go home since everyone striking lives on site and has every right to be there. No significant damages is being done to property. The only loss is from those not working (and a keyboard covered in cat piss and $35 worth of snacks) Mercedes is forced to find a way to get them to stop but in a way that doesn't really change anything. She leaves the meeting when it is over clocks out and returns to her modest house she calls out sick for the next couple of months.

Annette: HR rep - she tries to stop the chaos on the floor and to convince everyone to return to work. She is ignored. She wanted to ask for a megaphone to help gain attention but edelguard took the one from HR and the person with the key to one in the event closet is striking as well. She runs around in a paint trying to answer emails and settle everyone down.

Ingrid: IT helpline rep - helping Dimitri reset the ban on outside websites is above her pay grade. She at least know some of the terminology and the basics. She manages to set up a very basic blocker but it didn't block whole domains just the homepage of every website she could think of that's wasn't appropriate for work. Logging into the site allowed you to bypass the block. Ingrid feels like she will be fired for not being able to do more

Golden deer:

Claude: event planner - noticing that there was no work happening he finally decided it was time to actually do his job. He dipped into those sweet event funds and ordered as many pizza's as he could from every pizza join that could deliver. He busted out the sport balls and got employees to clear some room for flag football on the 3rd floor. He got Hilda to organize games of hide and go seek in floors 4 and 5. All games and activities were not officially approved but followed all guidelines.

Hilda: claudes assistant - organized games on the 4th and 5th floors. The cubicle although uniform made excellent hiding spaces and the food plaza just got rid of the old tables and chairs awaiting delivery of new ones so there was a ton of space to run around. Hidia had to jump between floors pretty often which was a workout all on its own but it was worth it to see everyone smile at work for once.

Lornez: head of advertising - he was tired of writing jingles and stupid commercials for the company. He wasn't aware of the strike until he got the email from Ferdinand. He offered to treat him to some tea he brought from home. They had a lovely talk and watched Sylvain stress eat. He tried to talk Sylvain out of resigning but failed.

Raphael: pizza delivery guy - he thought it was a joke at first since they never delivered pizza to the Serios Co but was persuaded by Claude. He got stopped at the front by the front desk clerk who was ordered not to allow any deliveries. Soon more pizza guys showed up and some of them where not as nice as Raphael. He eventually got in and successfully delivered his pizza.

Ignatz: accountant - he wanted no part of this and tried to work despite being on the 3rd floor. He doesn't have any PTO and is frantically trying to get his absence approved because he cannot work under these conditions. He got walled in with desks and chairs and hand to crawl his way out to try to find someone in HR to help him but found their office empty. Worst day of work ever.

Lysithia: Intern- hopes to join the advertising department - She needs this job for school credits so finding out that her boss told her to take the day off because of strike she immediately thought of her record. Lorenz assured her that she would get credit as long as he had any say in it. She played a round of hide and go seek before studying in Lornez's office

Marianne: customer service rep.- she heard the rumors and on the day of the strike she freaked out and when to have a panic attack in her car. She was on lunch technically but she took a 3 hour lunch. She came back in clocked out and decided to try that horse therapy.

Leonnie: pizza delivery guy (not nice) - she knows the customer didn't care that the order took so long to complete and was very understanding that the 30mins or less delivery time but seriously! 50 PIZZAS!! She had to stretch and press dough at top speed for like 45 mins then she burnt her hand while boxing some of the pizza's and she had to deliver all of it to this company just outside of town and now the person at the front door is insisting that the pizza was ordered by mistake oh no! Not today! You will take the pizza and you will pay for it and tip 25%.

Church

Rhea: CEO and founder - she honestly believes her practices are helping the community. She doesn't realize that she doesn't give her employees much choice. She thinks her employees are ungrateful.

Seteth: president - also believes the company is doing the best they can. He knows the dorms are small and brand but they house 78.364% of their employees and they all see a doctor at least 3 times a month. He hates that he has difficulty finding a balance between competitive prices, compensating workers, and turning a profit.

Flayn: secretary - she saw the fun going on in the 5th floor while on her lunch and thought it was organized by staff and didn't connect it as part of the strike.

Catherine: front desk - tried to turn away all the delivery drivers but more kept coming. She kept getting calls from upper management about the social media platforms and tried frantically to get in to make a statement but had little luck. She gave up when Leonnie demanded payment and let all the delivery people in.

Shamir: social media manager- she originally attended the meetings as a mole but soon learned that her fellow employees hardships. She drafted huge posts on every platform exposing the truth, changed all the passwords then took a vacation during the strike.

Hanneman: chief operational officer - he is calling and emailing the IT department about the bans every moment he can. He organized the meeting as soon as the strikers got rowdy.

Manuela: chief financial officer - although she is worried about the finances she has also been pressing about where to cut the budget first. Horse therapy is ridiculous! They own the whole ranch and are responsible for the upkeep of every horse. And all the horses are carefully hand selected and trained too. It's too much nobody uses the horse therapy because nobody has the time off to go to horse therapy!

Alois: Chairman - his title is mostly empty. He joined the strikers in a game of flag football scored a touchdown. Then went back to work as usual. Didn't check his emails about the strike since he only checks them in the morning when he first comes into work.

Gilbert: treasurer - he puts business first. Doesn't know his daughter works for the same company. Was friends with Dimitri's father. He is stressing about how the company will recover financially. He is the reason for the pay cuts so they can fund most of the benefits.

Cyrill: gopher - he gets paid minimum wage and lives on site. He considers himself lucky that he can drive the company car to go pick up office supplies from the store. He was homeless before he got a job at Seiros and feels like he is important.

Results

Since several members of the board were caught participating in strike activities the hubert and his firm counted them at strikers and used this in court.

The dorms were not considered responsible accommodations saying that prisoners in jail cells at least have their own toilet.

The news when crazy with the posts on social media. The account never replied to any dms or comments. When called they said a rogue employee posted them falsely because she was being fired.

Rhea was forced to pay a lawsuit that gave all dormitory workers an allowance of $1000 for rent for life. Even if they choose to leave the company.

Dimitri was fired for not actually having any training. Felix was promoted to the head of IT and everyone respects him.

Rhea looses her company. And most of her assets. She kept the therapy horse ranch and manages that for a living.

With the entire company now belonging to her since everyone above her resigned she made a ton of changes making the company more normal. She pays a fair livable wage to every employee. She repurposed the dorms into offices or solitary break rooms.

Huberts firm gets rebranded as a honest firm that wants to help the little guys. He later goes on to help other corporations unionize.

[captainmazzic]

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

:/

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

[staranon95]

a little more action

a red hood au drabble

Trevor tries to get things back on track for the crew after Red’s disappearance. He starts up the plans for a job they intended to pull when Red first came into their lives.

Jeremy doesn’t blame him. He wants to get things rolling again. He wants the city to remember that the Fakes are still here and, yes, they will cause problems for the upper crust. Red or no Red, the crew needs to get back out there.

It’s an elaborate plan. Jeremy, Fiona, and Gav are dropping in from above on one of the tallest office towers in the city. Jack will be flying them in where they’ll parachute down in. They’ll infiltrate from the top where security is weakest and head down to the floor that has the information they need—bank account numbers, hidden offshore accounts, expenses. Which means they are going to make a living hell out of some very influential people’s lives.

They’re dropping in at around one in the morning. They’ve prepped this run for weeks now. With the clear skies, they’ll drop in at a high altitude. Jeremy can feel the fluttering beat of his heart. It’s all adrenaline, but he’s done this before. He gets a kick out of the high-altitude situation. He knows Fiona is ready to gun for it. She’s as adrenaline seeking as the rest of them and is always looking for a new rush to enjoy. She’s still pretty new at the larger jobs like this. This is the first time she’s going to take direct point and not be relegated to surveillance, getaway driving, or cleanup. And then there’s Gavin. His knees always shake badly when they’re attempting something like this, but when he gets into it, he gets into it. Usually screaming all the way down, but who doesn’t every now and then?

“All right,” Matt says from their earpieces, safely hidden back at his apartment and watching from his scores of equipment. “The jump zone is coming in quick. You’re jumping in at 10,000 feet. There are no approaching headwinds at this time, so it should be a fairly smooth decent. Keep your googles on because they’ll tell you where the building is so you won’t get lost and land on the wrong one.”

“Good thing that happened during the dry run, eh?” Gavin says, breaking the tension.

“Yeah, congrats. That took us some serious explaining as to why you landed in the penthouse pool owned by the mayor ten blocks away.”

“Cut the chit chat,” Jack says. “We’re heading into the jump zone. Good luck, guys.”

“Thank you, Jack!” Fiona is the first one out as soon as the green light is on. Then Gavin. Then Jeremy.

It’s always that first feeling of vertigo that Jeremy has to weather first when they make the jump. The feeling of his stomach dropping to his feet before his body gets used to falling. The display on his googles initiates at Matt’s command and Jeremy is given a digital layout of his target. The hard part will be the landing. They don’t have that much space and if they miss the rooftop, they’ll be sent drifting down the street.

“All right, you’ve entered the parachute zone. Pull now.”

Jeremy yanks on his cord and is prepared for the jerk back once the parachute fills. Now it’s just a matter of being gentle and patient in correcting his fall to the roof. Fiona lands first, carefully guiding herself to the edge of the building so she has the space to dig her heels in and drag her parachute down and clear the space for when Gavin makes a slightly less graceful landing. Jeremy watches him as he comes in at an angle and undoubtedly skins at least his arm along the ground before Fiona rushes in to help stop him.

“Okay,” Jeremy says. “You’re going to have to catch me.”

“We—what?” Gavin asks, sounding out of breath.

“I’m too high and I can’t take another lap or I’ll be too low. You guys will have to grab me.”

“You never make this easy, Jeremy.”

Jeremy kicks his legs in the air and prepares for his approach. Gavin and Fiona, free of their parachutes, come together and watch for Jeremy’s approach.

“Catch me, catch me, catch me!”

Gavin gets one of his legs first and pulls in on him. Fiona gets one of his arms and the three of them come crashing down onto the roof together, Jeremy laughing all the while.

“Oh man. Haven’t done that in a while,” he says, shrugging off his parachute and pulling in the lines to bundle up the fabric. They’ll be leaving everything here and take a basement exit if they can. The building isn’t tall enough to base jump safely, and Jeremy hates base jumping from within the city.

Gavin is quick to get his lockpicks out to open the roof access door for the three of them, while Jeremy and Fiona get themselves untangled from Jeremy’s lines.

“You do not make this any easier,” she says, letting a little of her frustration show, but she’s smiling.

“Where’s the fun in things going smoothly?”

“Door’s open!” Gavin stands and waves them over.

They descend with Matt’s instruction to the exact floor. They’re working into an office claimed by the CEO. From there they’ll have access to a personal computer and extract some encrypted emails. Then they go to the server room and wreak some havoc. Should be easy. They’ve been preparing for this run for months now. It’ll be a big pull in terms of information, intel, and so, so much blackmail material.

They get to the office. Jeremy is on point looking down the hall while Gavin gets Fiona inside so she can take direction from Matt on what to grab and what to do with the computer. They know all the security guards’ routines. There should be at least two of them on this floor. Maybe they’ve caught them at a break because Jeremy hasn’t seen a sign of them. All the better for them, but still. It strikes him as odd.

“Okay,” he hears Fiona say softly over their shared comms. “Downloading the emails. Should be done in thirty seconds.”

“Good, then you can get down to the server rooms,” Matt instructs. “Two floors down from your current location. The room is key card access only, so you’ll have to use that fun toy I gave you.”

“Oh, is that the one you have to pop the case off and plug into ports and shit?” Gavin asks.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my favourite.”

Gavin sighs, and Jeremy can’t help but smirk.

Once Fiona has everything, they leave, locking the door behind them to mask their presence. They move in a single file line, keeping low to the ground so they can get to the stairwell and head down two floors. The only thing about the stairwells is that they’re usually faintly lit. Nothing they can do about that, but there aren’t any cameras.

Jeremy, while still on point, takes the stairs first. He gets to the landing below and motions for the others to follow him. They repeat this until they’re on the right floor. The door to the floor requires key card access. Gavin makes a crouched approach to connect to the port and grant them automatic access. Jeremy is first out, peering around corners and keeping an ear out for the heavy footfalls of any security guard. He hears nothing so he heads in, following Matt’s instructions to where the server room is.

But the door is already open.

Uh oh.

Then the light from a flashlight pins him in his crouch. He rises up so he’s flat on his feet, keeping his center of gravity lower so he can’t easily be knocked onto his feet. From the corner of his eye he saws Gavin and Fiona move into similar positions. Gearing up for a fight.

“Well, would you look at that.” The familiar and cheeky voice cuts through the silent dark of the office. Jeremy has to squint against the flashlight to see who it is, but he already knows.

It’s Red. He’s wearing that familiar red hoodie with the hood pulled up. Over top is a heavy Kevlar vest. He’s wearing a slick mask with a set of goggles over top. It’s a neat looking piece that’s probably teched out. But surrounding him are five others. Dressed in black and wearing a form of tactical gear.

“You guys are a bit late,” Red says. “Decided to help ourselves to what was there. Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn. But, uh, oops! What do we have here?” He lifts what’s clearly a walkie talkie, the kind security guards usually carry. And it’s then that Jeremy finally notices the crumpled and bound form of one of the security personal on the premises. That’s why it’s been so quiet. Red and his team have already cleared the place. “You guys should know what the response time is for the police right? Ten minutes? Fifteen tops? That might be cutting it a bit close if you want to dip and run.”

He motions at his goons and they make a hasty retreat to the windows. They start stringing themselves on long run lines scaling the outside of the building. They clip themselves in and wait for Red to join them before ascending the building. Jeremy leans out to watch them go. He hears Red’s laughter as he goes—and it’s so much like Alfredo it hurts to think of him like that.

He turns back to the server room where Gavin and Fiona have gathered. They won’t have enough time to make this a clean job, and Fiona is already ripping out the drives she thinks are most important.

“Okay, we need to move,” Gavin says.

“No elevator, no stairs,” Jeremy says. “We won’t have enough time.”

“Then how do we get out?” Fiona asks. “We won’t have time to call in a plan ride out of here.”

Gavin snaps his fingers. “The roof,” he says. “I saw one of those window cleaning dealies. It can drop us faster.”

“This better fucking work,” Jeremy says.

Once Fiona has the drives in her back, they make their escape to the roof. In the distance they hear a helicopter cutting its way through the air. Likely Red’s ride out of here.

Gavin points to the lift that’s been left up at the top of the building. He vaults over the railing and waits for Fiona and Jeremy to join him. “We’ll have to do it manually,” he says. “It’ll be quicker than letting the machine handle it.” He breaks into the switch box and disables the safety features which would’ve slowed their descent. Jeremy stands next to one cable break while Gavin is at the other side. Fiona steadies herself in the middle.

“Okay,” Gavin says. “We need to be in sync with this. Hold it in place ‘round the middle. Don’t let it flip all the way otherwise the ropes go and we go as well.”

Jeremy nods. “Got it.”

“On three, yeah? One, two, three!”

Jeremy flips the gear and holds on while the lift begins a controlled fall. It’s a bit unsettling because this is dangerous. This could go so wrong. It’s dizzying, falling past the windows, down to the ground below. He looks to Gavin who looks back at him. He waits for the signal to halt their descent, and at Gavin’s sharp nod, he flips the gear back in place and they come to a jolted halt.

“All right,” Gavin says. “Go, go, go!”

The police sirens are coming from all over it seems. Fiona is already telling Lindsay where she should pick them up. Not at the agreed upon location, and their get away will be tight. Lindsay comes peeling around the corner in a snappy little hatchback. A stick shift so she can manage some tight hand-break turns if need be.

“Get in!” she says.

Jeremy dives for the back seat and barely manages to close his door in time before it’s taken off by a streetlamp.

“What happened?” Lindsay asks. “I only got bits and pieces.”

“Red was there,” Fiona says. “Either he got the drop on what we were doing or someone else wants what we were after.”

“He’s working with someone,” Jeremy adds. “He looked kitted out. Was working with some serious muscle, too.” He leans in with the sharp turn Lindsay makes as she guns for the Vinewood hills. The curved roads will work well for her car and leave the police cars far behind them.

“This is really starting to get on my nerves,” Lindsay says. “Did he look any good? He was pretty hurt when I picked him up.”

“Seemed pretty chipper to me,” Fiona says. “I have like ten hard drives in my bag right now. And we don’t even know which one has the information we need.”

“If he wanted us caught, he could’ve left the guards to grab us,” Jeremy says. “But he didn’t. He’s just making things difficult.”

“Yeah, apparently,” Lindsay says. “This is cutting it pretty close.”

Once they manage to lose the cops, it’s smooth sailing to the Vinewood house. Jeremy is too hopped up on adrenaline to feel like crashing. He is really hungry though, and usually when Michael stays behind, he cooks up a feast for when they return.

He takes a few steps towards the house with the others before he realizes Gavin is standing back.

“You coming?” he asks.

Gavin looks up with his phone in his hands. “There’s some stuff I need to deal with.”

“Listen, Gav, if this is about Red—”

“I need to do this. On my own.”

“You don’t have to. Not about this.”

“I know. But I’ve got some ghosts to bury.”

“Okay.” Jeremy knows he won’t be able to convince Gavin otherwise, so for now he’ll have to let him go. “You let us know if you need a bail out, okay?”

Gavin nods. “I know. I’ll be back. Promise.” And then he’s walking towards his motorcycle and heading back onto the streets.

[itsclydebitches]

I've never played WOW, but my friends into it. I might as well try. Any advice for someone who's never touched a MMO?

Oh, fun question! It’s actually hard for me to think of things I’d have wanted to know when starting out because I started playing MMOs around age... 9? So in some respects I grew up alongside the genre, rather than trying to learn it after the fact, but some things I’d highlight about WoW now is:

Don’t worry about your race/class. There is SO MUCH about the “right” and “wrong” way to create a character, but at the end of the day you should choose whatever interests and appeals to you most. The caveat to that is that picking a tank or a healer class will put a bit more responsibility on your shoulders  — whether you like it or not at times  — so just be aware of that. Some people like taking on a specific role, others (me) do not. There are also classes that are better suited to soloing as much of the game as possible, if that’s something you’re interested in. 

Regardless, you will have to play with others eventually. If your friends are already into WoW it sounds like you have a good community/potential guild to turn to, but I’d recommend waiting until you feel confident in playing your character before entering groups with strangers. Frankly, the WoW community can be pretty damn toxic. I’m no expert, but I’ve played it long enough to feel confident in my abilities and I’m still cursed out by pissed off dungeon groups if we wipe. Raids will expect you to have learned the fights via youtube prior to coming in and when many inevitably haven’t (because it’s a game and homework shouldn’t be required lol) they’ll start yelling too. PvP is just a mess of accusations and slurs, depending on how badly it’s going... so yeah. I don’t want to make it sound like WoW is made up of nothing but assholes, but there are enough to make an impression. It’s something to avoid if you’re not feeling up to it, but given how much of the later content requires working with others, wait until you’re geared, have a good handle on your class, and are in a good head space before diving in. Or stick to playing with friends. 

Speaking of friends, if you do want to play with them I’d recommend picking their faction (Horde or Alliance). That will allow you to visit each other in major cities, help with the same quests, queue up for activities together, etc. Though the story has moved away from the Horde vs. Alliance rivalry recently, the gameplay still very much divides them. 

Check out everything you can (without getting too overwhelmed!) WoW has a LOT going on and while very little is required, much of it is beneficial while also being easy to miss, just by virtue of there being so much to do. Pick up any quests you find, explore as much of the world as you can, talk to NPCs, save the loot you get, etc. You can always get rid of something  — drop a quest, destroy/sell an item  — but it’s a bummer if you just go and sell everything only to realize you actually needed all that stuff for something else. So go slow and check out your options before making decisions. 

To help with that, I recommend WoWhead and Icy Veins for info, or just good old-fashioned plugging the thing into google with “wow” next to it. How often do I look stuff up? Constantly. MMOs don’t have cheating culture the way a single-player game might (I mean, there’s absolutely cheating, just not in the same way), so don’t be afraid to just google anything and everything you want. The comment sections of a page are your best friend. Whereas the official description may give you an overwhelming amount of information you don’t actually need, player comments tend to focus on what others really want to know: here’s where to find this NPC, yes this quest is bugged, make sure you do X before Y, etc. WoW has become a lot more accessible over the years in terms of helping players figure things out, but it’s still confusing at times, so make use of any resource you please. 

Another “cheat” is to use addons. I’d recommend grabbing WoWMatrix which will allow you to (safely) download addons without any of the hassle of putting it in the correct folders. I’d recommend Bagnon (makes all your bags open as a single window so you can see all your loot at once), Bartender (allows you to customize your action bar), Coordinates (puts a tiny, movable coordinates button on your screen which is basically necessary at this point to find things. Players will almost always provide coordinates when giving locations), HandyNotes (provides lots of info on your map, like how you go about summoning a rare mob), Pawn (helps you compare gear to see what’s best for your class/specialization), and if you do any PvP, Healers Have to Die, or HHTD, which marks all healers with a cross so they’re easy to spot in battle (always kill healers first! :D). WoWMatrix is SUPER easy to use  — just search for the addons you want via the application, download them, delete if you don’t like ‘em, and open it once in a while to “Update All” — and the various addons you can use are an absolute godsend. They make playing the base game that much better. 

If you’re someone invested in the story side of games, lore is going to be very weird here, just because WoW is 16 years old and you’ll be entering into the 8th expansion. I’ve played WoW since it came out and I don’t know wtf is going on a lot of the time lol. So just roll with it, or if you’re interested, make use of wikis, the novels, etc. But it’s not the sort of game where you’re in trouble if you have no idea who this person is or what battle they’re talking about. Just accept whatever they want you to do and pick up the story wherever you came in. 

You’re going to die a lot. A lot, a lot. That’s fine, everyone does. Again, not the sort of game where that’s a problem. Just know that you can either return to your corpse (flying there as a ghost) or rez at the graveyard you appear in if you’re willing to deal with a bad debuff for like 10 minutes. Also, all armor has durability that goes down over time, but it goes down faster the more you die, so you’ll want to repair (finding an NPC with the anvil icon) soon afterwards. 

There’s lots of little things to learn like that: a brown bag icon means you can sell to this person, blue exclamation marks are quests that will reappear daily, items with a gray name (as opposed to white, green, blue, or purple) are pretty much just junk and you can always sell them... there’s a lot. Pick things up as you go, keeping in mind that you’ll be given SO MUCH INFORMATION and no, you’re not going to learn it all at once. Part of the fun is figuring stuff out and seeing yourself improve. Feel free to ask questions too (there’s a chat box and you can speak to an entire zone at once), though frankly it’s a 50/50 chance whether someone will give an actual answer, or just roast you lol 

If you ever want to play “seriously,” I’d kinda recommend learning WoW with keybinding early on  — AKA, creating button shortcuts for various spells/skills so your mouse is only used for camera movement and targeting, rather than wasting time looking for the action you want to click on. I say “kinda” because I don’t do that. At this point my click method is too ingrained in my muscle memory for anything else, but I recognize that I’m in the minority for saying that’s an “okay” way to play. 

Anything is okay though. Do whatever. I mean, the above aside, literally my best advice is to just throw yourself headfirst into the game, accept that you’re going to mess so much up, shrug, and have fun with it. I spent an hour of my life running a Tourghast floor today... and then wasn’t able to beat the final boss. So I “wasted” that time since I didn’t get the loot, but who cares? It was fun! Literally do whatever and don’t let any of the assholes get to you. Someone sends a message you don’t like? Block them (right click their name in the chat box to get the option). Group is making you uncomfortable? Leave. Don’t know how to do something? Google it! The best thing about an MMO is also the most overwhelming: it’s a whole world with (almost) endless options, so though that freedom is exciting, it also means you have to curate your own experience. It’s a bit like being here on tumblr. Figure out all the nuances at you own pace, lurk as long as you’d like, and if someone is being annoying, google how to keep them out of your inbox. 

Idk how helpful any of these tips are, but I hope you enjoy it!! 😊

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #392

“l.a. is where stars come to die”

Do you think there’s anything you did better when you were younger? I think I was a better writer, honestly. Like I've developed in some areas, like being less over-dramatic, but I just think my creativity in wording and such has dulled down. Who was the craziest teacher you’ve ever had? I've never had a "crazy" teacher, honestly. What’s the last thing you got paid to do? Take pictures. What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for someone else? How should I know? Ask either Jason or Sara. Have you ever wanted to model? No. Have you ever seen someone have a seizure? I THINK my sister? Teddy had seizures in his old age, too. What’s your favorite car? I don't have one, really. Do you know any HTML or CSS? If yes, how much? I know veeeeery little basics. LIke, I can change the color of shit and that's about it lmao. Do you tend to care about the lives of celebrities? Why or why not? Only celebrities I really really care about, like Mark. What do you think of the scene style? #aesthetic and I will ALWAYS be envious of the hair. Have you ever told an extremely inappropriate joke? Oh god, I remember one. What is the highest you have been up, other than in an airplane? On a certain faire ride, I wanna say. Is there any hope of you ever seeing your favorite band in concert? Ozzy does want to do another tour at some point, but he's fighting Parkinson's currently, so it's not guaranteed it will happen. Mom and I planned on going to his last one that was scheduled, but the diagnosis cancelled it. :( What is your favorite non-green vegetable? Uhhhhh I guess potatoes. What is your favorite non-traditional fruit? I don't think I've even had a non-traditional fruit. Just basic stuff. Have you ever had Swedish Fish? Yeah, I'm not a fan. What is your favorite origami shape? Birds, I guess. Do you usually take the stairs or the elevator? I pretty much always take an elevator if one's available because my legs can barely handle stairs at all. It's agonizing for me. Do you need a key card to get into the building you live in? No. What was the last takeout food you had? I had a burger from McDonald's a few days ago. Do you take the pickle off your burgers? No, I love pickles on burgers. Do you share a bed with anyone? Just my cat. If you’ve read or watched Harry Potter, which book/movie is your favorite? I haven't. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? I re-installed DragonVale. What do you know the most about? Meerkats, Markiplier, and Silent Hill, probably. What TV shows can you not stand? What's that stupid show on Adult Swim, Rooster Teeth or something like that? That shit was so dumb. Have you ever tasted your own tears? I mean not intentionally. Sometimes tears just fall down a spot where it happens. Are your legs hairy? I can almost guarantee to you that I probably have the hairiest legs of any woman you've ever met. Do you like Cheese-Itz? I love them! We don't really buy them though because both Mom and I can destroy a box of them. Have you ever built a sandcastle? I have. Did you ever watch Barney as a child? Yeah, I loved Barney, but not as much as my older sister. She literally "married" him, haha. Have you ever had a pet rabbit? No, but my older sis did as a kid. That poor thing died and Ashley didn't know for THREE DAYS. Mom took it out earlier and I guess she wanted to see how long it took Ash to notice? She didn't take great care of it, so. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? Yes, my friendship ring with Sara. To you, what is especially distracting? Tapping noises. When was the last time you did some major cleaning? MAJOR cleaning? Good question. How do you feel about people who neglect their pets? It sickens me. Have you ever contemplated cheating on anyone? Nope. When are you likely to lie? Probably when I don't want to seriously hurt someone. What is a personality type that you do not like? I hate people who think they know everything, are unwilling to acknowledge their flaws and work on them, feel they're better than others, are closed-minded, sexist, bigoted, racist... What is a personality type that you DO like? I am drawn to people who are empathetic and try to understand and consider more than just themselves, are caring and genuine, philosophical and think deeply, are calm, friendly, good listeners, and have a light sense of humor. Which of your friends is the least like you? In what way? I actually don't know. MAYBE Mini with her being extremely conservative to a frustrating degree and overwhelmingly religious. We diverge pretty strongly in beliefs that are important to me. How about the most like you? In what way? Sara! We have incredibly similar interests and morals, and we both are wild over animals. When was the last time you felt under-appreciated? I'm gonna be completely transparent here, even though it's uncomfortable to admit. I was very unhappy with the literally two interactions a poem I was really proud of got on dA. Like it was one I was trying to get published prior to just posting it there, so it was really disappointing to feel so overlooked when you worked hard on something you felt came out great. Does anyone take advantage of you or take you for granted? No. Are you taking anyone for granted? I sure as hell hope no one feels like I do. I definitely try to appreciate those I have to the utmost. What is one selfish thing that you do? I prioritize my alone time probably too much. How about something selfless? I'm pretty much always willing to listen to people's hardships and comfort them even if my own mental health is in poor condition. What do you like to do on your favorite holiday? Just be with family and really focus on how lucky I am to have them. What helps you fall asleep? I guess really paying attention to slowing my breathing, but that doesn't always work. It takes me at LEAST half an hour to fall asleep, so I struggle no matter what. Is there anyone you wish you were still friends with now? Megan. I really, really miss her. What is a fear you want to overcome? SOCIAL ANXIETY. UGH. What is something you do not like about yourself, with good reason? I'm lazy. What do you usually cry about? PTSD. Do you like pizza better on the second day? No. What do you like on your pancakes? Butter and normal syrup. Have you ever made up your own emoticon? I don't think so. How do you generally meet people? Online in one way or another. Have you ever seen a Broadway show in New York? No. Are you listening to music right now? Yeah, "God Hates Your Outfit" by Jeffree Star lmao. Look, it's catchy. Can anyone in your immediate family play the guitar? No. Have you ever wished to be an internet celebrity? How about a ‘real’ one? No. Like I've actually *loosely* considered trying to be a let's player with my love of games, but I don't even want to *risk* popularity; not that I think I'd get to that point, but still, I don't like the chance. Have you ever been kayaking? No. Do you still live with your parents? Yes. Do you believe you will never get over someone? I think Jason will always occupy at the very least a small corner of my mind. I just deal with loss so poorly in general, but that... that breakup was something. What do you order at Burger King? I don't like BK. Have you ever lived by yourself? No. Pretty sure I never could with my depression. What brand cell phone do you have? It's just a Tracfone, lol. Did you ever have a ‘security blanket’ when you were younger? Yes, my stuffed moose. What is your lucky charm? I don’t have one. Have you ever been in a wedding? Yeah, I was a bridesmaid in my sister's. Do you believe in yourself? ehhhhhh What time does your dad usually wake up in the morning? I don't live with him, so I can't say for sure. He's a mailman though, so he gets up early, I know. Who was the last person/people you were in a car with? Mom. What movie do you plan on watching next? I've been meaning to watch Jacob's Ladder for like... over a year, lmao. It served as an inspirational work for Silent Hill, and I know its reputation is brilliant, so I really want to see it. I just... don't really watch movies unless I'm in the theater. When something really scares you, what’s your immediate reaction? Gasp or go "what the fuck" or something along those lines. I can almost promise a curse word is coming out of my mouth, lol. Using song lyrics, say something to your most recent ex: I don't wanna get emotional digging through the songs that remind me of her, so pass, lol. You can only watch 4 TV shows for the rest of your life. What are they? Meerkat Manor, That '70s Show, maybe Pokemon even if I don't watch it anymore (it could be like a comfort show if I'm limited to four), aaaaand I think Ginga Densetsu Weed. Do you think it’s possible for a rap song to make you cry? ... Yes??? There are a couple that have for me. Does the idea of having a baby at your age scare you? I'm not having kids, sooo I don't have to worry about this. What band has the power to make you cry by splitting up? None. I'd be really upset if some did, but I wouldn't cry. Who is your favourite famous person who isn’t a singer, actor, or athlete? Well, I WOULD say Mark, but considering he's officially an actor now... guess not, haha. Uhhhh. Put him aside and I guess maybe Bindi Irwin. I'm not sure.

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Seven

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand.... and welcome to Elriel. 

Warnings: cursing

Let me know if you want to be tagged! 

Authors Note: This chapter is a BIG gateway chapter to a lot of things. . . also VERY lightly edited... and enjoy the new POV shift... ;)

Masterlist Link!

SEVEN

~~~Elain~~~

It was around 9 am. I’d been in the kitchen for an hour already, trying to decide what to make for breakfast. I’d started making pancakes, then switched to waffles, then omelets.  I’d be set on my decision for as long as it would take me to pull out all the ingredients for my choice, then I’d change my mind, put everything back, and pull a bunch of different things out. 

My father walked in at around 9:30, as I was pulling the muffins I’d made from scratch out of the oven. I’d decided muffins were neutral enough that everyone in the house would like them and that I could make them well enough to everyone’s satisfaction. Nesta said I worked too hard to please people. 

No clue where she got that idea. . . 

“Is no one else up?” my father said.

I shook my head. “Just me and the muffins.”

He took one, buttered it, and made to sit down. He seemed to think better of it, though, because he set his muffin down and stood up straight. “I’d better go wake Feyre. I want to ask her about all those paint cans and supplies she’s left in the garage, and someone has to be here to eat these muffins. Best to do it know while Mr. Night sleeps; I know how sensitive that girl can be about her painting.”

I nodded, standing alone at the counter before I remembered.

“Dad, Dad, Dad! Let me wake up Feyre. I--um--”

He was halfway up the stairs when I caught up to him, pausing to look down at me. I went with the oldest trick in the book. “Girl stuff.” I widened my eyes meaningfully. “Best if I check up on her first.”

I prayed my father didn’t see through my very feeble attempt to make him uncomfortable. But it worked. He clicked his tongue and descended the staircase. “I’ll take your word for it, Elain. Hurry down. And tell Feyre to hurry too…”

It was like he knew. Oh Feyre was so going to owe me. 

I bounded up the stairs, not slowing until I was at the top of Feyre’s own narrow staircase. I knocked and entered, ready to get a kick out of what was about to happen.

“Oh, Feyreeee, Dad needs you downstairs.”

Nothing for a few moments. I thought I heard whispers but from where I stood, I  couldn’t see anything besides the large lump of her white bed coverings. “I guess I could send Dad up here…”

The whispering became clearer, now, and I made out something like, “Shut up!” and “I’ll handle it” and “Calm the fuck down.” 

Feyre suddenly appeared in a very large t-shirt and nothing else. “Thanks, ‘Lain.” She practically hissed my name. She stalked across the floor toward me. “How’d you know?” She murmured.

“Got up for a glass of water last night. Saw Rhysand’s ass as it cleared the top of the staircase. Figured I’d save you from Dad’s wrath.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “We didn’t do anything. And Dad has no right to dictate what I can and can’t do.”

“Obviously not,” I agreed. “But he could make things very awkward.”

“True. We’ll--I’ll--be down in a second. Please don’t tell Nesta. She’d be unbearable.”

“Tell me what?” A voice like iron floated across the small landing. 

Feyre shut her eyes and I cringed. Nesta’s judgment might be worse than our father’s.

“Hey, Nesta,” Feyre said guiltily. 

“Feyre. Hi Rhys!” Nesta raised her voice imperceptibly. 

A tan hand rose from the bed. “Why the fuck do you have so many sisters, Archeron?”

The light that shone behind Feyre’s eyes was like nothing I’d ever seen before. In either of my sisters’ faces. Or my own. I bit back my own grin. After Tamlin, and the shitty year Feyre had had, I just wanted her to be happy. And Rhys was so good-natured. Didn’t hurt that he was hot, too. She deserved to look all happy despite being caught out by her two older sisters.

“I’d get downstairs quick. And arrive separately.” Nesta was fighting back a laugh. “I can’t wait to hear Dad chew you out for your sex life. For once, it won’t be me.” She smiled wickedly.

“We didn’t--I didn’t--get out!” Feyre screeched at us. 

“You’re welcome,” Nesta and I said in unison, and we grinned at each other. Feyre pushed us out with surprising strength and slammed the door.  

“That was fun.” Nesta started down the staircase first. 

I was about to respond when my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out.

Azriel: Mooorning

“Who’s that?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Nesta dropped her voice to a low whisper as we descended the main staircase and headed for the kitchen. “You’re grinning like an idiot, and not in the ‘I just caught my sister with a boy in her bed in my dad’s house’ way you were earlier.” 

“Uh, just looking at a meme.” Weak.

“Because you spend so much time scrolling through memes.”

Thankfully, Nesta let the subject drop. I honestly wished she hadn’t. Everyone had been treating me like a fragile piece of glass since the whole Greyson debacle. And while, yes, I wasn’t quite ready to share that I’d been secretly talking to Azriel for the past two months… I was strong enough to handle some sisterly teasing, or even fatherly teasing. Or any kind of teasing.

Instead, everything was, “Oh, Elain, your cookies taste so good!” and, “Oh, Elain, the garden looks wonderful!” and, “Oh, Elain, how’s nursing school?” Nobody wanted to talk about anything real with me, because they thought I wasn’t ready. And if I was the one to start down that road, they’d continue to tread on ice around me and just be grateful I was talking at all. Too grateful to really listen to what I had to say.

Which was why I’d downloaded a dating app two months ago, swiped right on all of two guys before I’d found someone worthy of deleting the app immediately after we started messaging. It’d been a constant stream of texting and snapchatting ever since, even if we hadn’t met up in person yet. My romantic past, Azriel’s loner tendencies, and the fact that he was one of Rhys’s best friends and Feyre’s teammate had made us decide to take things slow. But seeing how happy Feyre was with Rhys--and she didn’t even know it quite yet--made me think that I should tell my sister and then get Azriel to take me out. 

That would certainly surprise everybody. Elain made of glass, indeed.

Before I could lose my nerve, I texted Azriel back. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I reentered the kitchen with a smile on my face, trying not to ponder on the message I’d just sent.

Elain: I’ve been thinking. . . We should meet up… Face to face. 

Elain: Like on a date. 

I got a response within a moment and didn’t need to check my phone to know what it said.

Azriel: Hell yes. 

~~~FEYRE~~~

I slammed the door shut. I looked behind me to find Rhys, breathtakingly shirtless, propped up on one elbow behind me. 

“What are the chances that both of your lovely sisters keep their mouths shut about this? Cuz I have a feeling even a mutual love for collegiate athletics won’t stop your father from kicking me out of the house for staying the night in your room.”

I slumped onto the bed and he was suddenly there, filling all the empty space in the room as he hovered over me. I closed my eyes, fighting back a smile. “They’ve had their fun. Sisters don’t snitch.”

He rested his forehead against my shoulder. “Great. Not that I care about you, of course. I’m just very concerned about where I’ll have Thanksgiving dinner if your dad kicks me out.”

I sat up and pushed him back against the blankets all in one motion. “You take that back,” I said playfully. 

“Make me.”

“How about I go down there and confess to my dad before Nesta or Elain can rat us out? Then I’d be rid of your sorry ass much more quickly.”

“Feyre!” Elain’s voice floated up the stairs tauntingly, interrupting our flirting.

“This isn’t over, Archeron,” Rhys said threateningly. 

I pointed to the door. “Go put on something presentable. Your hair’s a mess.” 

He scowled. But he kissed me lightly on the lips before he left the room and I almost told him to forget about family breakfast and stay up here with me, instead.

------

The day passed in a blur. We spent the majority of it in the kitchen prepping for Thanksgiving lunch tomorrow afternoon. After a while, we all retired to the living room and marathoned the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Rhys sat next to me on the couch and as soon as it got dark enough outside that my father, Nesta, and Elain probably wouldn’t notice, he took my hand under our shared blanket and I set my head on his shoulder. 

I stayed in his room that night, although we were both too tired to do much other than fall into bed after a day spent in the kitchen. I woke before him the next morning and tiptoed downstairs to let him sleep.

I found Elain and Nesta arguing in my kitchen. 

“Why don’t you just tell me who he is,” Nesta was saying in a very low, very dangerous voice.

“Butt out, Nesta. It’s no one.”

“If it was no one, there’d be nothing for me to butt out of, now would there be?”

Elain was gripping the island countertop in the center of the kitchen. Nesta, surprisingly, was cooking up a huge skillet of scrambled eggs. It smelled as though they were starting to burn while her attention was focused on Elain. 

Elain’s phone vibrated. “Who is he?” Nesta shrieked.

“Fuck off!”

“What’s going on?” I asked. 

They both started speaking at once. 

“Elain’s being stupid--”

“Nesta won’t stay out of my own fucking business--”

“Help me convince her--” 

I held up my hands. “Oh, both of you shut up! Elain. Explain.”

Nesta mumbled something under her breath that I chose not to hear as Elain sighed. “Nesta thinks I’m talking to a boy. She thinks that she has a right to know who he is--if he even exists,” Elain added with an eye roll, “and that she deserves the right to approve. I told her to fuck off, but she’s not listening.”

I’d never heard so many “fucks” from Elain in one conversation. There was definitely a boy. 

“Well, why don’t you tell us? After everything…”

Elain pushed herself back from the countertop, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m not some fragile teenager who doesn’t know how to speak to boys! Despite what you think about how terribly broken I am after Greyson, I know what I’m doing! And now I don’t want to tell you even more. So leave me alone.” 

She turned and pushed through the door that led from the kitchen to the side yard. 

I looked at Nesta. She looked at me. 

“She better be getting it reallll good to get so upset with us for asking about it,” Nesta said.

I took a seat at the barstools surrounding the island. “Do you think she. . . Do we really treat her like a teenager who doesn’t know how to speak to boys?”

“Maybe. But that’s because she doesn’t know how to speak to boys--or men, for that matter.”

Nesta thought she knew what was best for Elain--and she usually did. But Nesta also liked getting her way. When her way wasn’t Elain’s way. . . It was difficult for both of them. I resolved that no matter what Nesta thought, I’d try to give Elain some space when it came to her Mystery Guy. Even if I was dying to find out who it was. 

“Speaking of boys. . .” Nesta began, but at that moment, Rhys stepped into the kitchen. Thank God. I didn’t know what exactly was going on between us at the moment. Discussing it with Nesta would be torture. 

“Good morning,” I said brightly as Rhys took a seat beside me. 

“Is it?” He asked. Nesta had turned around to find her eggs burnt to a crisp, ignoring Rhys entirely.

“What’s wrong?”

Rhys leaned his elbows on the counter. “My father called. He’s in town. And wants me to spend the weekend with him in my hometown.”

I couldn’t help the fear that gripped me at his words. Was he just making this up because he wanted to escape me? I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Where’s that?” 

“Two hours north of here.”

“Well I can take you and drop you off tomorrow morning,” I managed to say. “Would that work?”

He blinked. “I did tell you that my father is a horrible person, right?”

“Not sure you mentioned it. . . But it’s Thanksgiving. You should be with family.” Which was true. Although I’d rather he stay here.

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t burden you with driving all the way out there and back just so I can spend the weekend with a very unideal candidate.” He gave me a look that told me who was the ideal candidate. Maybe he wasn’t making this up. . . 

“Um. . . Uber?”  Stay here, stay here, stay here.

“Too expensive.” He glanced at Nesta, and then turned to face me more fully. “You could stay with us. We can just make it ‘meet the parents’ week.” He smiled hopefully.

Relief flooded my body. “Well…” I definitely wanted to go with him. Right now I didn’t want to leave his side at all after the past two nights sleeping in his arms. But I didn’t want to offend my family.

Nesta banged the skillet against the edge of the trash can, causing both Rhys and me to jump about a mile. “Go with him, Feyre. I’ll talk to Dad.”

I couldn’t help the smile that exploded across my face. “I guess you’re stuck with me.” I grinned at him. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @sleeping-and-books​ @musicalfae​ @queen-of-glass

[dominickxqxb679]

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[nerdiebird]

Open Letter from Joel Birch

“This is, in actual fact, my open letter.

There will be a few people out there that may jump to a particular conclusion regarding some of the lyrics on our new record, however, I felt I needed to be as open as I have been in the past, and explain myself. As you may or may not know, I am responsible for all of the lyrics in Amity. I can’t even play a chord on a guitar or hit the drums in time, so fortunately I am at least competent, (although I’m sure there are detractors out there who think otherwise), at writing lyrics.

During the course of Amity, suicide and self harm have been prevalent topics; all the way back to High Hopes which had the cringe-worthy, corny lyrics of ‘please stop cutting yourself’ we have engaged with our listeners as much as possible, to convey a positive message. There was an overwhelmingly large amount of people - wait, I should say percentage of people - coming to our shows that had evidence of self harm, and that was distressing from the get go. There is a tendency for the style we play, and a lot of other sub genres that compose the laundry list of styles out there, to have dark imagery associated with the music. Sometimes this is in jest, sometimes it’s meaningless, and sometimes it is an open window to people’s psyche. Whatever the case, a lot of people who get into this music often times have had to deal with mental illness either themselves, or dealt with it in their circle of friends.

Over the past decade there has been a slow - a very slow - move to a greater public awareness, but I can say that when we first started seeing it manifest itself physically at our shows, awareness was quite low, and intolerance and avoidance quite high. Anyway, I am prone to ramble, so I’d better get to the point a little faster. We’ve grown in stature since High Hopes, we play to more people, more people listen to our music on the radio, downloading it, whatever - and thusly, more people have become aware of my own struggles with depression and anxiety over the years. I have had clinically diagnosed depression for the better part of a decade, but when I dealt with it in my teens, I was told that everyone feels the same etc, if you have any experience with it I’m sure you’ve heard similar sentiments. Over the years, due to the increase in listeners, there has also been a steady increase of communication between myself and said listeners. This started out easy enough for me to deal with, as there were only a few people who would approach me after we’d played, we’d have a quick chat, and off they went.

Since Chasing Ghosts however, there has been a significant increase in letters, messages, and conversations between myself and you guys, and sometimes the messages and letters are extremely heavy, emotionally. I’m not made of stone, and being someone who suffers from the same problems, this has led to some extreme insecurities, personally.

I don’t feel equipped to properly handle some of these notes. I’m not professionally trained to give the necessary advice, and so a lot of the time I’m left scrambling for words to stop people from feeling so down, they really want to kill themselves. This hits hard for me, I feel extremely helpless, I don’t know what to do; I’ve lost many nights of sleep over urgent messages that I don’t know how to respond to. Let me be clear: I do not want anyone to feel like they can’t write to me, that’s not what this is about, I just need to explain the lyrics that discuss this problem on our record. I am glad that sometimes a few lines of encouragement to seek advice is all that’s needed, but sometimes I know that I haven’t done enough, and what’s worse than that, is that I don’t even know how to do more. I wrote Don’t Lean On Me especially to deal with this; I am dealing with depression and anxiety, and so I can fully empathise with everyone out there that has it, to whichever degree they are dealing with it, but I remain inadequate as an advicegiver.

I just need people to know that when a message is written to me, it doesn’t just roll off my back like water. I have felt physically ill in the past after reading some letters, just hearing the sheer desperation in the tone of them is enough to bring tears to my eyes, and still, time after time, I don’t know how to adequately reply.

Music is my personal outlet, it gets me through a lot problems within myself that I may not have been able to deal with otherwise, and likewise, it is the only language I understand when it comes to helping people get through life. I feel like I have poured myself out selflessly over the last four years where our music is concerned; I opened myself up like I never had before to try and help other people get through the same problems. I still to this day am a massive advocate of music as the message, it’s why I get (publicly) upset about bands trumpeting themselves when there are people out there who are actively searching for music to help them. Music does save lives, I believe that, and I am trying my hardest to actively contribute lyrics that can get people through.

I promise I will never take the selfish route and cut you, the listeners, out of the way I write lyrics, and the messages I convey; just remember next time you are writing to me - I understand your pain, I understand what you are going through for the most part, but the best I can do is listen, and point you in the right direction. I am easily affected by your messages, because I empathise with you on such a deep level, just remember that. Sometimes the only comfort I need is to know that someone else out there understands, and I hope I can give you that comfort through our music, as I am unable to provide it personally to all of you. I am trying my best, I just ask you don’t get offended by my writing about how your pain has a certain transference that I am sure you never intended.”

Joel Birch, lead singer of the Australian metalcore band, The Amity Affliction, posted this open letter onto the band’s website regarding their 4th studio album, Let the Ocean Take Me, released in 2014. Joel has been open about his dealings with depression and wanted to convey his thoughts to fans who also deal with these issues. One song off the record, Don’t Lean On Me, was written as a sort of response to fans who have relied on the band and their music to persevere through hard times; Joel feels that since he also struggles with mental illness, he is inadequate to help and so, Don’t Lean On Me was his message to fans not to rely on him for support.

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 15 - Outpost 16 - Rocket

Aparicu was not human. This didn’t bother her. Her closest friends and coworkers were also not human. This didn’t bother her either. What bothered her was that she wanted very much to share her achievements with humanity, and especially her creators, but she was 62 light years away from Earth, and she’d been in space for over 75 by Earth time. The relativistic speed she and her friends were traveling at made it so they’d only experienced 43 years – 82 percent of the speed of light, on average – and she was built to last, with modules that she and her friends could repair; the only thing that could go wrong was if all four of them were knocked out at the same time, and the ship was hardened against electromagnetic pulses, radiation, and other things that could theoretically take them all out. Everyone who’d been involved in creating her, however, was dead.

Well. If they succeeded, that wouldn’t be a problem.

She and the Apariabs – named Red, Green and Blue, to avoid the inherent hierarchy of a numerical or alphabetic system – were all healthy, and there had been a lot to do on the way here. They’d gathered information as they’d traveled, using the ship’s telescopes to take pictures of the entire starscape, one a minute, in a spherical pattern around the ship. That let them crunch numbers and compensate for the Doppler shift to get all kinds of information about the universe around them. They were transmitting everything back home, of course, in case the plan went wrong, but it obviously wouldn’t get there for another 62 years.

They’d also played a lot of games. Video games made for humans weren’t calibrated for robots, so they were either impossibly hard or tragically easy, sometimes within the same game, but board games and card games were fine. No games where you could win by counting cards, because the robots automatically did that without even trying, but playing poker was an amazing experience when you tried the art of the bluff for the first time in your life. Attempting to model what the other robots would think of you if you did X was hard enough, but then attempting to model that on top of the other robots knowing you were modeling it and compensating by creating their own models… this was the kind of challenging, exciting activity that could hold their attention for days at a time.

But now, they’d reached the end of the journey.

“Can we confirm that the gravitational field has a toroidal shape?” Aparicu asked Red, who was analyzing the gravitational patterns by using drones to drop tiny sensors into Wishing Well, and then measuring the part where the gravity became strong enough that the drone could no longer transmit.

“It does,” Red reported. “All of the specifications are exactly like they were on the Guest.”

“That’s a relief,” Blue said. “Can you imagine what it would be like if we got here and found it wasn’t as expected?”

Since Aparicu didn’t need to model human facial expressions to her teammates, her face didn’t move, but the pattern of LEDs on her face expressed deep irritation. “Blue, every time you say ‘can you imagine’ I am compelled to imagine, and I really don’t appreciate it.” As the Central Unit for the Ansible Project Autonomous Robotic Intelligences, Aparicu was tasked with modeling outcomes of potential situations. This modeling task could be triggered by anyone suggesting a possible future or an alternate present. Blue knew this, which was the reason Aparicu was irritated – Blue was deliberately moving operational memories about his coworkers’ preferences into long-term, slow-to-access storage so he could have more available space for modeling shapes. It wouldn’t be so bad if all he did with his shape-modeling was the modeling of the devices they’d be printing at the destination, but in fact he used it to model buildings, landscapes and even entire human cities, complete with tiny humans whose movement was based on statistical traffic models. He kept having to dump the shapes to long-term storage, too, and it was at eighty percent capacity already. Eventually he might have to delete something.

Green was busy quality-checking the print job for the mirrors as they printed. She looked up, which really didn’t mean anything because she was connected directly to the printer and didn’t have to look at it, but it was a signal that she was shifting some portion of primary attention to the target of her gaze. “So far variance in the print job is under nineteen nines, but I’m concerned that keeping the variance that low is making the process run really slowly.”

“We’ve been at this for forty-three years, Green,” Aparicu said. “I think we can take the time to make sure everything’s done right.”

Red said, “We have to compute the angles for the transmissions anyway, and determine how many substations the outpost should have. The toroid’s a toroid, but we have no idea how long the Guest was in transit, so there’s no guarantee Wishing Well’s grav field is identical to what they told us to expect.”

“But I want to get this stuff built,” Green said, her LEDs displaying frustration, the robot equivalent of a whine. “We’re here! We’re at Wishing Well, finally! And when we’re done, we can call home!”

“I wonder if we can get a strong enough connection to download media,” Blue said.

“We pretty much have to,” Aparicu reminded him. “Wishing Well’s humanity’s connection to the ansible network. It’s gonna suck if we can’t get the bandwidth to transmit yottabytes daily.”

“All the data on Earth is just about three brontobytes,” Red said. “If we could transmit a yottabyte a day, we could transmit all the data on Earth in nine years, approximately.”

“You’re not thinking. We don’t yet have the ability to digitize items down to the molecular level, but once we do… there’s approximately seven times ten to the 27 atoms in a human body, for example. If you don’t compress it, that’s seven brontobytes to describe the configuration of every atom. So if they want to digitize and send themselves, it’d take 21 years of using all of Earth’s bandwidth to send one uncompressed human pattern. Obviously we’re going to use compression when we figure out how to do it, but I have a suspicion you can’t use compression on the brain, at all.”

“So we want to be able to send brontobytes. Ideally, geopbytes,” Blue said. “Yeah, okay, we can get a lot of media from home if the thing works properly.”

“Well, brontobytes are gonna require an upgrade, and I don’t know if we’ll still be around by that time. Probably we won’t be involved. But we are definitely supposed to be able to transmit yottabytes.”

“You guys sound like you’re more worried about getting the latest media shows than being able to talk to Our People,” Green said. Aparicu could practically hear the capital letters. Green was very, very attached to the humans who had made them, even more than Aparicu. She’d flashed distress for weeks once they were far enough out that communication, even arel-laggy communication like emails every month, became impossible. “I can’t wait to tell Dr. Blum all about what we’ve done!”

Dr. Blum was certainly dead by now, but that was the point to the ansible project, and to Wishing Well. Wishing Well was a very tiny black hole, barely the mass of the Sun… which suggested it had been created artificially or that something very strange had happened to create it, because stars the size of the Sun weren’t supposed to be able to become black holes. Humanity hadn’t even detected it. The Guest, an unmanned alien craft they’d found in orbit around Proxima Centuri B, had come with the exact position of Wishing Well, and instructions on what to build to connect to the galactic ansible network, and the physics behind it.

“Ansible” was a term humans had used for generations to mean a fictional device that could transmit messages instantaneously across light years. The physics the alien craft had supplied didn’t provide a means of getting around light speed; instead, it made use of properties of black holes that humanity had been theorizing about but been unable to prove. Normally nothing within the event horizon of a black hole could ever escape. But if you had a black hole with a toroidal gravitational field, and if you positioned a beam of information just right, you could send it at an angle through the gravitation field so it would come out.

It turned out that within the black hole, space and time inverted – there were multiple dimensions of time, and only one of space. If you calculated your angle with sufficient precision, you could send a message out of the black hole so that it exited before you sent it… even years before you sent it.

Theoretically it was possible to send a message back in time, at least after a receiver had been in place for long enough. In practical terms, no one had yet been able to figure out how to make that work… the range of possible times that a beam could exit Wishing Well seemed to be approximately 124 years into the future or past… which was further evidence that maybe Wishing Well was artificial. Had someone discovered humanity’s existence at some point in the far distant past, and made a black hole for them to be able to connect to the ansible network when they were able to explore space far enough to find the instructions? No way to know… yet.

The crew of the April – named by humans for the acronym APR, Ansible Project Rocket, though technically the April was a spaceship, not a rocket – had been traveling forty-three years of their own time, and seventy-five of Earth’s years, in order to build the outpost that would handle transmissions. First they’d build the apparatus that would allow them to send a signal at lightspeed back to Earth… a hundred and twenty-four years ago. A signal sent from Earth at lightspeed would take 62 years to reach Wishing Well. The response would take 62 years to go back to Earth. So shooting the response back a hundred and twenty-four years would mean the response would arrive a few months, at most, after the signal had been sent.

After they had that up and running, so they could communicate with home – sending their own messages so they’d come out of the black hole, pointed at Earth, sixty-two years ago – they’d set up the parts that would let them send comms to the other ansnet nodes the Guest had given them coordinates for. Some of those messages would take a hundred years to get there… but the return response could be sent two hundred years ago. And humanity would finally be able to talk to whoever was out there. Never able to meet in person, since no one had broken the speed of light and the Guest suggested that the worlds participating in the ansnet might generally take several human lifetimes to reach even at the maximum speed anyone had ever gotten a spaceship to go… but at least able to be internet friends.

But first, the robots – the Central Unit and the Ancillary Builders – would create the means to send messages back home to the humans they’d left behind. Humans couldn’t handle the forty-three year journey, or the horrific psychological isolation of spending that entire time in a tiny box in space with no one but a handful of crewmates… but robots could be programmed with personalities that meshed with each other almost perfectly, and no real need to be able to go “outside” or experience a planetary surface. They’d been able to endure the journey, as no humans could have.

But they had to be connected to their homeworld, to humanity, or how could humanity be sure they’d actually build what they were supposed to? So all of them had been programmed, to some extent or another, to look at their creators as beloved parents. They were adults, out in space on their own, but adult humans, for the most part, still wanted to share their triumphs and their joys with their parents, if they could. The robots had been looking forward to telling their creators all about their trip, and showing off the ansible node they would have built, throughout the entire trip.

“I want to talk to Dr. Blum too,” Aparicu said. “But we’ve waited forty-three years, and she’s waited thirteen since we left by the time the message gets back to her.” Tenses were awkward when talking about time travel. “A few more weeks to make sure we get it right won’t hurt us.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t we look dumb if we had a variance that meant the message lost half its bandwidth, or missed us entirely,” Blue said.

Aparicu intensified her irritation pattern and repeated it for emphasis. “Blue… stop presenting me with hypotheticals!”

He said sorry, but she suspected he wasn’t, really.