#and instead of actually fixing the bugs they just make it worse

[the-chattering-tower]

looks at FR, having its 10 year anniversary this year

looks at my other very active interest getting its 10 year anniversary this year

okay well when duviri comes out and i go a lil insane about it no one be surprised if i decide to make an orowyrm fandragon alright thank you

[sordidmusings]

do you think mihawk would go through the 7 stages of grief when he catches feelings for someone or would he be a self-aware king and just shrug and accept it?

On a scale from One to Death, how pained is Mihawk about falling in love?

Pairing: Mihawk x GN Reader

Form this took: non-bulleted headcanon!

Word Count: ~730

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk actually continually creates new stages of grief in his unmoving stance to Pretend Everything’s Fine.

He’s not in love with you, he just has every bit of info on your likes, dislikes, and stories tucked away in his memory for convenience. He didn’t even consciously decide to do that actually. It’s just a fluke or maybe it was because it’s all such easy info to remember; it’s certainly not because all that information has special importance. It’s most definitely not because you look at him with such joy and gratitude every time you realize that he’s remembered something about you. Nor is it how beautifully his heart aches when your face glows with appreciation and affection for him.

He’s helping you out because your skills are disappointing, not because he sees you as a being of boundless potential. It has nothing to do with the pride he finds in each stride you make, whether by his guiding or your own breakthroughs. Nothing at all to do with how, day by day, he finds it more precious to watch you grow than the beloved gardens surrounding his castle.

His restlessness and temper when you’re gone are only because he has to take over all the tasks you do at the castle. Of course he’s not happy having unnecessary things out back on his plate, it was so much better being able to hand off half of those so he has time for the things that are important. Like swordsmanship and your shared hours to end each day. He doesn’t miss you bugging him all of the time; he can take care of himself without your drop ins to bring him water and snacks, or calls that dinner’s ready, or excited recommendations for books he always ends up enjoying, or observations on all the inane things around you (he obviously sees everything and it’s not better sharing them and a present existence with you, nope), or the rare occasions you speak your worry for his dour and lonely life that cut right to the heart of him. Those are what he misses the absolute least; he’s used to being called cold and heartless and alone, he doesn’t need you saying it but worse - noticing the heartlessness is unfortunately a lie, that there’s been something raw and painful festering in him for years, kept far from where anyone can touch and exhausting him of life’s pretenses.

He has no hope that you could possibly help fix that (just as much as you’re a balm for that wound, closeness to you rips it wide open).

There will have to be some change to your routine dancing around each other for him to accept his feelings for you and become that self-aware king instead of the willfully-ignorant peasant. This could be a threat of you leaving, likely not in you giving him that ultimatum but in more gradual ways that circumstance usually does. Maybe you begin to get into your head that he’ll never have feelings for you, and in your acceptance of that you begin to seek other hearts to share. Maybe you run from the depths of your own emotions for him, slowly shifting your life to be less and less at the castle, seeking opportunities that will take you to further seas.

Or maybe life does throw you both a much more drastic cause for change - an explosive argument when you seek a new love, or you unloading all your worry for him and fears that he is heartless while he’s frozen stiff, or him knowing the deep fear of not having you in his life in any capacity when your life is almost taken. Regardless of the cause, once he does acknowledge his feelings, he will absolutely act on it. He is a man of drive and dedication after all.

Now Mihawk is a lucky son of a bitch because it is very likely that you don’t know for a fact he has any interest in you until the Cool and Confident stage kicks in. He’d be mortified if you ever found out how desperately he tried to patch the dam in him that barely kept his overflowing interest, affection, and adoration at bay.

I hope you do find out because that needs to be held over his head for the rest of his life and then some 👌🏻

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

For my lil milestone celebration here 🤍 come ask!

Thank you for your question anon❣️ the phrasing had me cackling it was too good 💀 I hope you enjoyed!! Sending love and hugs

[ddwcaph-game]

Update Previews!

Today's update post has three new changes/additions:

New Character Development Variables for F6E

New Difficulty Settings

Trait and EXP Updates

Before I show the previews, I just wanna say that after this update, I'll try to focus more on the story, and less on the gameplay stuff. I've actually gotten a bunch of breakthroughs with the story recently, so look forward to the introduction posts of the other two crush options soon!

New Character Development Variables for F6E

I'm thinking of adding a second set of character development variables for F6E! While the primary purpose of the first set of variables is to determine how major story branches will play out, the second set is intended to be less impactful, and only affect flavor text and dialogue.

New Difficulty Settings

Instead of the starting twin relationship traits secretly modifying your NP cost and NP recovery stats, I decided to add new difficulty settings to the last choice in the prologue.

Here are the difficulty modifiers:

🟢 Slice-of-Life Difficulty: +10% Overall EXP, +25 Max NP, +12% NP Recovery, -20% NP Costs when retconning stat checks, Stat Penalties from 🤯 [HEADACHE!!!] are capped at 25% 🟡 Adventure Difficulty: Normal EXP, NP Cost, and NP Recovery modifiers 🔴 Superhero Difficulty: -10% Overall EXP, -25 Max NP, -12% NP Recovery, +50% NP Costs when retconning stat checks 🔥 Apocalyptic Difficulty: -33% Overall EXP, -50 Max NP, -12% NP Recovery, +100% NP Costs when retconning stat checks, Stat Penalties from 🤯 [HEADACHE!!!] are 25% Worse

It's important to note that the difficulty settings DO NOT change the stat check requirements, so this wouldn't really affect you much if you don't use NP very often. Your Max NP is now also tied to your Total EXP gained (you gain 1 Max NP for every 2,500 EXP gained instead of gaining Max NP every chapter), so that's why the settings give EXP Bonuses/Penalties. Of course, these are all subject to changes later.

Trait and EXP Updates

As I've said before, I'm reworking the "bucket list" idea to be much simpler. Some traits/passives will now give a small amount of EXP when you pick certain choices.

I'm adding these bonuses to make picking traits more impactful, make gaining EXP more meaningful, and to add a sense of progression/character development for your MC. For example, Troublemaker MCs will now gain a small amount of EXP when picking Sensible/Disciplined choices.

Here's the full list of additions:

The EXP bonuses are minor enough (most choices will only give around 10-30 EXP), so you won't really miss out on much if your Troublemaker MC wants to keep causing chaos anyway. The bonuses do stack however, so we'll see if the numbers need adjusting in the future.

The EXP Notification won't appear if you gain EXP this way, so don't worry about extra clutter! Speaking of, I actually found a bunch of bugs that made certain Traits give more/less EXP all the time while coding, so whoops! 😅 It's not really game-breaking so I'll just include the fix with the next update.

Anyway, that's all I got for now. Let me know what you think of the new changes!

[bluetortilachip]

This might sound stupid and I’m probably wrong but I’m convinced that they made the plot point of Alya being naive to Lila’s lying spree to the point of completely taking her side at times was a last resort to make marinette look good and sympathetic after everyone started to pick up on the whole stalking thing she had going on

But like there’s no way you do a complete 180 with your friend just like that without feeling a bit guilty about it but in a way, it’s a little painfully realistic since yes, they are young teens. And teens are sometimes always persuaded by things that they find interesting with no second thoughts about it which makes them both naive and perhaps a ‘yes-men’ type of exterior and as a teen myself I can definitely say it’s true from personal experiences. It may be realistic but that doesn’t make it okay most of the time. At times it’s bad to blindly believe something just because you find it interesting or right in your own way without doing a basic background check. It’s annoying but it’s necessary.

Since Alya is supposed to be a character who’s core trait is being the journalist who basically Sherlock Holmes her way into finding valuable research but if she had the energy to try and find out ladybug and cat noirs identity, she sure didn’t do a good job of looking into Lila even after marinette revealed to her she was ladybug who’s significant lie is that ladybug and her are friends when marinette made it clear she doesn’t like Lila and that their rivalry is completely built upon false accusations and liking some boy who instead liked a magical girl in a bug onesie which Alya would have definitely done if Thomas astruc wasn’t so obsessed with marinette more than she was with Adrien

If the writers already established that Alya can find evidence completely on her own for significant things like the main hero’s identities and help form a resistance against and to find the villains, why didn’t she do it for marinette and Lila? It’s easy, the writers needed drama between the characters to get the audience riled up and turn against Alya for her naivety in hopes of making us sympathize with poor little marinette. It has been established a lot throughout season one that they were ‘very best friends’ that wouldn’t turn their back on each other but the second the current seasons got more into the Lila and marinette drama it makes Alya look less like a naive friend with no ill will as Lila’s lies are pretty believable even if their ridiculously funny and dumb

Marinette from the beginning had a ton of problems that the fans and even the writers didn’t wanna admit until it got worse and were soon called out for. She wouldn’t take accountability in accusing her own class (expect Adrien cause she’s atrociously down bad) of theft rather than herself (rogercop) stealing her friends phone to remove an embarrassing voice mail and recreate a video and get no consequences for it (copycat and the mime) and the stalking is self explanatory. Even in an episode Gigantitan when Alix brings up that fact that marinettes behavior and knowledge about Adrien (the memorized schedule) is rather weird but rose and other characters decided that it was ‘romantic’ and it was never brought up again because the narrative of the episode try’s to frame it as that it was wrong and actually cute

Alix: (whispers to Rose) She knows everything about Adrien! Creepy, no? (Copy and pasted from transcript)

Rose: Yes! It's so romantic! (Copy and pasted from transcript)

Even though marinette has clear flaws it doesn’t necessarily make her a bad person as she has good qualities to both her character and personality but it becomes overshadowed as she never really gets consequences for her misdeeds that are not that helpful to her character development which is a problem by itself which should have been fixed way before the new seasons aired.

But when things get pretty bad in season three where Lila almost got marinette expelled, Alya was definitely helping her clear her name doing all her journalist work and gathering evidence but then it all went away in season five when the writers became desperate to blow marinettes bad deeds in the first season out of the water and to make Alya act more like an idiot and a bad friend than the supportive and truth seeking friend that she actually used to be and it becoming an ongoing thing in the show that feels like the writers have completely wasted her character and abandoned the important detective trait in Alya to make her look as bad as possible and it worked because season five made and her Bf Nino more OOC than the OG Star Wars cast in the Last Jedi with how passive and dismissive of Adrien and marinette attempt to tell the truth making seem like Adrien’s defending her just because she’s his girlfriend now and that’s a problem. And the fact that Alya was supposed to apologize to marinette after Lila and choke were exposed in the storyboard was actually scraped makes me so pissed.

Alya: I am so so sorry!

Alya: How could I have been so gullible?

They could have actually fixed her character (maybe not but who knows) with that one scene and actually bring back her being supportive and feeling remorseful but no, good ol thomas and friends just had to make her look bad again cutting out the apology scene even after the drama was over and never bring it up again

Just an observation

[sometipsygnostalgic]

The best system to play Gameboy games on is... well... you can play them on many devices.

Officially it would be GBA SP because it can run Gameboy and GB Colour games.

However, very few backlit SPs were ever released (they are frontlit). So a better unit for Gameboy Advance games might be the DS Lite, which universally is backlit and which is lightweight enough to not cause problems. It also has better ergonomics than the SP, but I am bugged by the black borders and empty second screen.

A really popular mod is called the "Gameboy Macro", which is when you take a DS Lite lower screen and use it solely as a gameboy advance. It is a great way to recycle DS units with a broken top screen, a common issue, though it makes me cringe to think some people modify perfectly fine units this way.

The Lite also has issues with the cartridge sticking out the bottom, so many prefer using the "phat" for this purpose. The original DS is both frontlit and backlit for some reason. The image is still an improvement on frontlit SPs.

The best units to play DS and 3DS games on are... the DS and 3DS.

Specifically the best place for NDS games is the DSi XL. No non-DS device has the touchscreen versatility to run DS games well, and it's very awkward scaling the tiny screen on an emulator.

The 3DS is also not a great place for DS games. The 3DS top parallax screen is incapable of a 1:1 pixel ratio even in pixel-perfect mode, which already has the issue of black borders around the screens, making touch-based games more finicky.

It is especially apparent on the XL models but is also an issue on the smaller 3ds models.

The best unit to play DS games on is the DSi XL. It has a backlit screen and more power and memory than the first two units, making loading faster. It doesn't have the scaling issues of the 3ds, as it doesn't need to do any upscaling at all - the XL has the same number of pixels as a normal DS.

I've never used a DSi XL because all the ones sold in the UK are these ugly beige colours and they never took off, but if you don't mind the loss of the GBA slot, it's the best device for DS games.

Unfortunately DSis seem to be plagued by yellowing screens. I can tell you the small unit I just bought has some very slight yellowing on both screens.

What's the best way to play 3ds games? Well, on a 3ds obviously. It's even harder to accurately emulate 3ds games than DS games, and you lose the 3d effects altogether.

But which 3ds is best?

It depends on what you want. The 3ds more than any other Nintendo system besides the Gameboy is heavily based on preference instead of objective superiority.

To get it out the way first, while the original 3ds has the sleekest look, it's the worst one. The original 3ds and 3dsXL have a much worse 3D implementation, relying on you to stare at the screen at an odd angle.

Not only does the New3ds fix the 3d with an eye tracking sensor, it also has more power again, and a "c-stick". I also think the screens on the New3ds are of a higher quality and run flat games better too.

However the New3dsXL has some downgrades. The SD card is replaced with a microSD but now requires a mini screwdriver to access, removing the back plate. The stylus is also a really tiny one like on the DS, in an awkward place, and the metallic skin on the console will decay very quickly with use. My New3DSXL's skin started peeling under my hands after just six months of use.

The New3DSXL is the best unit to play 3ds games if you are looking to have all the features at their most optimal. It is the best by far for playing in 3d. It can also run the DS library fine, if in a poor image quality.

Personally I prefer the XL, the larger size is easier on the eyes, though the customizable panels on the hard-to-find normal size New3ds are cute too.

If you don't care for 3d, the Wedge and Doorstop may be for you.

The 2ds has all the features of a 3ds apart from the 3d, while in a wedge shape that looks dreadful but actually feels more ergonomic. It has similarities to the first Gameboy Advance and you can't tell you're holding something so tall.

The original 2DS is sold for much cheaper than the other units because Nintendo sold it for cheaper and nobody particularly wants one, so it's the most affordable way to try every game in the DS library, especially if you pair it with a jailbroken SD card. Unfortunately it still uses the 3ds screen, just with no 3d slider, so it still upscales DS games and doesn't have perfect rendering of 3ds games either, but it's harder to tell as the screen's tiny.

The New 2ds XL was the last DS ever sold, it came out after Switch. A lot of cute variants of the 2ds XL exist, and most games coming out around its release didn't have 3d enabled anyway. The feature had died in popularity, so while a 2d 3ds was originally scoffed at, in 2017 it just made sense.

While the New2ds XL looks fancy in a distance, the ergonomics are worse than any 3ds, and far worse than the wedge 2ds. The New2dsXL is all style and no substance, with the speakers being covered by the user's hands, and it's made out of a flimsy plastic. It's clear Nintendo made the materials for the hull cheaper and cheaper over time, so by the end of the 3ds's life they had gone from a very premium-feeling device to cheap plastic. The Switch would follow this design philosophy.

I do salivate over that Pikachu version and I'd enjoy trying one, but my mind tells me it's not a great device.

All told, which do I think is better? Well I think the 3ds XL having the most features is inviting for me, and I have the choice of turning off 3D. However if you want bang for your buck, the 2ds wedge might be your safest option.

Unfortunately the New 2ds XL and New 3ds XL will cost you as much as a Nintendo Switch these days. It seems that sellers have wisened up to the demand from people who missed out on the 3ds and want to try it out. There's also talk of IPS screens being better and the New2ds XL, 3ds XL and DSi XL all use IPS screens, so people are scalping them or raising prices.

[buckevantommy]

Arranged marriage and online friends au! 😊

Buck realises after two months of emailing back and forth that he doesn't actually know what Tommy looks like. And it's bugging him.

It's not like he wasn't aware of it before; Tommy has been a faceless presence across the digital void, features interchangeable with B-role actors and strangers on the street until Buck had given up trying to put someone else's likeness to someone unlike anyone he's ever met. Still technically hasn't.

After this long, he considers Tommy a friend. Buck just wishes he could put a face to the words.

There have been context clues helping piece together an image of what he might look like - brown hair (at least no one noticed the mud in my hair. I'll have to make sure to schedule time for a shower next time I want to take Annie for a jog in the park before a work event), defined muscles (not that lugging around spare car parts isn't its own workout, but I do have a standing appointment with my trainer to get to. I'm sorry I have to cut this short), tall (Granted, it's easier to get a good look at an engine when you have the height to bend over and not lose your footing) - but no descriptions and definitely no photos (unless you count the pics of his rescue dog Annie and a cameo appearance of his sneakers, which Buck wants to but they don't exactly fill in the blanks).

It probably doesn't matter. It's not like they're ever going to meet in person - Buck is on the west coast and Tommy's on eastern time. They can't just casually meet up for coffee when there's a dozen states between them.

He's not sure Tommy would even want to. Because while Tommy has tossed a few crumbs of his appearance Buck's way over the past eight and a half weeks, Tommy doesn't have to wonder about Buck in return. Because Buck had linked his insta account in his second email. It was the quickest way to show Tommy the state of his beloved Wrangler Renegade given he was at work and it was currently taking up space in Eddie's yard. Tommy sure knows his engines, even from photos that likely didn't show the whole story. With Bobby and Eddie's help (and with Chris being more help than Eddie) they managed to pinpoint the problem thanks to Tommy - something multiple mechanics couldn't nail down let alone fix, instead giving Buck the same excuse of how an old engine with that many miles was bound to give up the ghost sooner or later.

Buck took the jeep up the coast for the first time on his recent 48 off - the first time since his cross-country tour led him to the 118 and a few weeks in she'd stalled out and hadn't been the same since. But there was no sputtering, no chugging fits, no weird noises. Just miles of highway being eaten up under her wheels.

And he couldn't even picture the face of the person he wanted to thank. Maybe it was silly, or petty, but Buck couldn't shake his annoyance at Tommy having never sent him a photo of himself. He totally gets the anonymity of the internet, especially with forums, but he really thought they were becoming friends. Thought they'd keep emailing even if they managed to fix the Renegade.

He also hadn't heard from Tommy in over a week, so maybe that was adding to his irritation. And worry. As soon as they got her running smoothly, Buck posted a video of the jeep to insta and sent Tommy the link. He posted a few more pics of her on the road north and thanked him in the caption:

couldn't have done it without your help T 🌅🚙💻🛠️

Tommy knows how much this jeep means to him, and the more Buck thinks about it the more certain he is that the radio silence isn't like Tommy. He was looking forward to an update! It was the last thing he wrote: Keep me updated!, exclamation mark and all. Maybe he had to go away suddenly for work. Or his computer died. Or his email got hacked. Maybe something happened to him - he could be hurt, or sick, or worse. Maybe he read your emails and saw your posts and knows he fixed the problem so now he's done with you.

Buck stews in that thought longer than he should. It's not impossible, it just. Hurts. He likes Tommy. And screw distance - he wants to keep emailing and getting to know each other. Maybe Buck will get called out east for a nautral disaster (okay, not a great reason) or some kind of specialty training program. Or Tommy will travel out west for work.

Work which he's been pretty vague about, come to think of it. Buck doesn't actually know what he does - some kind of office-type job, going by the mentions of suits and gladhanding. Tommy knows Buck is a firefighter in L.A., but the nature of Tommy's work has been left mostly up to Buck's imagination. Maybe he's a special agent. Or a criminal. Or in witness protection. Or maybe the thought of a secretive existence helps soothe the ache of his abandonment issues; Tommy would reach out if he could but extenuating cirumstances are stopping him.

It happens to be a q-word shift which means no calls to distract him. Pocketing his phone, Buck sinks into the couch and turns on the tv desperate for something to take his mind off Tommy. Taylor Kelly is reporting from the studio these days, no longer chasing stories with a cameraman in a shady white van.

"..And now to political news. Vice President Kinard today announced the long-awaited engagement of his son to the eldest daughter of prominent Senator Olivia Ortiz. Thomas Kinard is the Vice President's only child, and the union is expected to strengthen ties.."

As Taylor talks, photos overlay on-screen: a professional family portrait complete with closed-mouth smiles; a young man - Thomas Kinard - in a khaki flightsuit standing in front of a military chopper; a college graduation gown.

"..Thomas Kinard minored in Mechanical Engineering.."

Another image: tall and broad and now with a mop of brown curls competing in a marathon and helping someone cross the finish line with their arm slung over his shoulders.

It's a minor detail. He doesn't even know why he notices. But Buck's eyes are drawn to his sneakers: Thomas is wearing a black pair with white half-trim and a reflective trapezoid on the heel. Not anything unusual, except that the guy he's helping is wearing a neon yellow pair that somehow didn't catch Buck's attention.

The next image shows an animal shelter and a small crowd of volunteers in candid and posed photos. In one of the candid shots, Thomas can be seen crouching to pet a familiar looking dog.. Annie.

No fucking way.

"..Tommy?"

doing this thing

[froot-batty]

Losers!

@sarseemd I still love the name Lightning Bugs for them so I'm yoinking that !! It's canon now !! Friendship name !!

Garfield Lynns was born and raised in Gotham - more specifically, in one of the many run-down apartment complexes in the Narrows. They had no idea what happened to their parents, for as long as they could remember they'd been raised by their three older brothers. "Raised" was a pretty strong word, though. Their brothers were a gang of well-known arsonists, and often either completely neglected Gar, forced them to do tasks for them, or yell at/bully him.

Due to how Gar was raised, they developed a fascination with fire from a pretty young age. They were never allowed to participate in the arson (or anything that their brothers were working on; they saw them as a nuisance), so Gar would watch as they made firebombs or flamethrowers - or watch the destruction their work would cause on the news.

One day, when Gar was 16, they decided that they had absorbed enough knowledge that they thought they could improve on their brother's weapons (and hopefully gain their approval in the process). They actually didn't end up being terrible at designing the mechanism or the weapons themselves - the problem came when Gar was attempting to mix chemicals. Gar was not the best at chemistry at the time, and their inexperience would result in an unexpected reaction in a mixture, one that let off sparks that would eventually reach the numerous HIGHLY flammable things in the apartment.

The resulting fire would not only render most of the apartment complex unlivable, but it would completely decimate Gar's home. It also killed all three of their brothers, who didn't wake up in time to escape the fire.

Gar, however, would end up living - in critical condition, with most of their body covered in burns. However, instead of being traumatized by the event, it would actually trigger a full obsession with fire in Gar. In their eyes, the fire had gotten rid of something that had kept Gar under lock and key for their entire life; it made them feel powerful.

So, the moment Gar was able to, they fled from the hospital. This is when their first crime spree would happen - little more than just them with a lighter and some gas setting things ablaze, but it was still destructive enough that it caught the attention of Batman.

Bats would recognize this was the same kid from the apartment explosion, so in the hopes that they'd be rehabilitated before continuing down this path, he took them off to Arkham (Gar was 18 by this point). Bats didn't know that this would eventually make even more of a headache for himself.

Maisy Zapropoulos Maxie Zeus was first born in Crete, though her parents would move to Gotham after they were both offered jobs at WayneTech. Her parents were strict, no-nonsense people, and had high expectations for their daughter right off the bat. They were the type of people that thought children should never step out of line, and that with enough punishment and reprimanding, bad behavior would be corrected.

So, when Maxie started acting out as a young kid - getting into fights, destroying property, stealing - this was unacceptable to them. But instead of getting her any kind of help for her then undiagnosed conduct disorder, they thought that with enough of a firm hand, they could fix what was "wrong" with her.

This obviously only made her act out even worse. She would take out the anger and the pain of her living situation on anything and anyone around her. She would start being an excessively cruel bully to her peers in school, when she would even go to school. Half of the time she would skip to go and shoplift or spray paint on the side of buildings.

Her behavior would eventually get so out of control her school decided to expel her. At this point, she was only 15, and none of what her parents were trying to do to "fix" her was working. In their eyes, this was the final straw that cemented her as a disappointment. A lost cause.

So they packed up her things and took her to Arkham Asylum. They didn't particularly care if it would actually get her help; they just wanted to get her off their hands. They signed custody of her over to the director of Arkham, Hugo Strange, and abandoned her there.

Maxie only kept acting out in the Asylum. She was alone, angry, and had even more of her life controlled by other people - hurting people or destroying things was the only way she felt like she had any freedom at all. At the time, Arkham still had a lot of outdated medical practices. Their goal is not to help people, and it certainly isn't Hugo's goal.

Maxie would end up being sent routinely to get electroshock treatment. The word "treatment" was mostly a cover, though - Hugo was interested to see what high amounts of electricity would do to the human body and mind. She'd spend so much time in there that the room they did the electroshock would be given the nickname Maxie's Room - as she spent more time in there than her actual room.

You'd think that this constant bombardment of electricity (oftentimes far too high than what is considered safe for an already dangerous practice) would just completely fry her brain. But, to the surprise of Strange...it didn't.

Maybe the shocks had triggered something in her DNA; some kind of inhuman gene most people didn't have. But her body slowly gained the ability to store electricity within it, to be expelled at will through her limbs. At first, they had no idea how this worked, and it led to a lot of explosive accidents when Maxie ended up not being able to control her newfound powers (this is when Strange got that scar on his arm!). Eventually, they'd make her those gauntlets and the sandals she wears, which allow her to safely and precisely channel her electricity.

By the time Gar was sent to Arkham, Maxie had already gained her powers. When Gar arrived, she saw another person she could make fear her - or, at least, that's what she thought. She was genuinely caught off-guard when Gar was nothing but friendly to her. They thought she was ridiculously cool!

It was the first time in her life that someone had ever been nice to her. And, for Gar, they lept on any chance to have a real friend (they were already used to being put down constantly by their brothers, it made dealing with Maxie easier). Their path to becoming friends was not an easy one, but they were both desperately lonely kids who just needed someone that got them. And they got each other!

Gar would be the person to give her the name Maxie Zeus. Maxie came from Gar accidentally mishearing her first name at the time, which they thought was funny enough to keep using, and Zeus was a play on the fact she's Greek, has lightning powers, and her last name started with a Z. Maxie would eventually completely adopt this name, since she'd always hated the connection with her family that her old one had.

Ever since then, they're completely inseparable. They go to Arkham together, they escape Arkham together, they cause destruction across Gotham together. If you ever hear that they've broken out of Arkham, you'd best get on the bridge to head out of Gotham, because it's going to be covered in fire and lightning before too long.

[adobe-outdesign]

thoughts on the wretched wocky? (some of the unconverted ones like the darigan wocky look so good but that blank unappealing not-quite-smile of the regular wockies makes me so, so angry for some reason. theyre looking at me the wrong way and im taking it personally)

I feel like Wockies have always had a bit of a problem standing out, as they are very plain Neopets—they don't really have a unique "hook". Dozens of Neopets have manes and fluffy tails, and Aishas have you covered if you're looking for something cat-like.

That said, I would argue that Wockies at least stand out in their stocky, incredibly fluffy body shape. If Aishas are house cats, then Wockies are basically Pallas Cats, only they hate the world slightly less. (They're also the most huggable Neopet, and I stand by this.)

Visually, they're super simple; just a chunky body with a mane to break things up a bit. I do have to state that I really don't care for the pink manes on the base colors though—I guess they were trying to match the ears/nose, but it looks a bit clashy (especially on red Wockies) and the brown eyes only worsen this. I think a darker/lighter tint of the base color or a neutral would've worked better there. Thankfully this is solely a problem with the base colors though, as most paint jobs have a more fitting mane color.

Of course, I can't talk about Wockies without talking about customization:

I'd argue that Wockies were one of the worst species conversions out there. At a glance, they look similar—until you notice that, inexplicable, the entire face completely changed. The rectangular eyes and awful thick eyebrows look so much worse than the original design. (Also, the feet are too pronounced on the converted design, but that's beside the point.) And what's weird is that there was literally no reason for this change, and it in no way relates to the actual conversion requirements—the artist seemingly just woke up one day and decided that they really, really hated Wockies. An absolute shame.

Favorite Colors:

Elderly: This color combo literally just came out last month, but it's already a standout for me. These guys have a really charming elderly cat look, complete with slightly ruffled fur, Siamese and tabby markings respectively, and a folded ear on the males. The clothes are also, for the most part, nice neutral colors (though I find the female's hair curlers jarring, especially due to how the eyebrows clip over them. They can be removed though so no worries there). What's also great is that the base colors are lovely in and of themselves if the clothing doesn't do it for you.

Darigan: I have to give the Darigan Wocky points for one simple reason: it's one of the only converted Wocky colors that fixes the godforsaken rectangle eyes, which already makes it look better than a lot of Wockies. Beyond that though it's also a pretty solid color all around. I'm usually more of a purple Darigan person, but the red does work here, the giant horns are fun, and the mottled markings a nice touch. The UC has a wonderfully grumpy personality, but the converted version sticks to the design pretty perfectly otherwise.

Plushie: I feel like Plushie Wockies manage to make the original pink manes work, mostly because they're using a nice salmon pink combined with a more neutral blue, and they also made the eyes pink instead of having them be brown for no reason. The UC has a super cute body shape, but even the converted version still retains some very nice colors and patterns (though it does low-key bug me that the stitch line isn't properly centered on the face). Good stuff!

[jahayla-parker]

Note/confession: this was an unplanned fic that I’ve written to shamelessly offer myself some semblance of comfort (or as I told @ell0ra-br3kk3r , remedying me needing my Freddy fix after the events of my trip; which you’ll more or less read about below- except unlike y/n I don’t actually have Freddy to comfort me 😭)

Bite Me : Freddy Carter x Reader

Description: 2.3k wc, y/n is fortunate enough to be looked after by her wonderfully caring husband Freddy after her recent vacation took an unexpected turn. Fluff, hurt/sick comfort.

Warnings: not proofread yet, one curse right at the start, mentions of bug bites and bugs, mentions of bug bite symptoms and treatment (including prescriptions and other medical settings & topics), minor mentions of a small amount of blood (from scratching too hard).

“Fuck me,” y/n whimpered, her body feeling truly miserable. She had been on a trip with friends to several beaches over the last week and now she was covered in bites. Prior to being bitten by them, she’d never even heard of no see ums. But, that didn’t stop them from aggressively attacking all areas of y/n’s body.

Freddy frowned as he watched y/n twitch as she tried to restrain herself from scratching at the inflamed, red, aggravated bites. He’d been bitten by the particular bug only once before and only a handful of marks formed that time, but he still knew how terribly itchy the welts could be. He even recalled having wished to have been bitten by mosquitoes instead as no see ums are far worse. As such, Freddy felt horrible for his wife.

“We’re almost there, darling,” Freddy encouraged softly. He reached across the console to grab Y/N’s hand, his thumb cautiously rubbing the back of it while avoiding the multiple bites present there. When y/n hummed begrudgingly in response, Freddy gazed over at her and his eyes once again tried to scan just how many bites she was covered in. He’d tried to count them upon her return home, but she just wanted to sleep as she’d gotten in at the early hours of the morning today. Unfortunately, as Freddy suspected, y/n had only been able to get a couple hours of sleep before waking up due to the pain and discomfort. Therefore, he was now driving her to the urgent care clinic nearby to be seen.

Y/n had initially been against Freddy’s idea, feeling like she was utilizing resources that would be better used by others. But, after Freddy had made it a point to authentically count out each of the bumps on her right lower leg, she quickly changed her mind. Freddy had only counted the bites on the area between the base of her right knee and the top of her right ankle. Yet, his counting was cut off by y/n when he’d reached 146 bites in that area alone.

It wasn’t uncommon for no see ums to bite in bunches with multiple bites on an area. But, Freddy hadn’t seen anything like this before. He could only imagine the amount of bugs that had ventured onto her legs as they decided to make a meal of her. Especially when he realized it wasn’t just her lower right leg that was bitten countless times. Instead, Freddy quickly realized the bites also more than covered y/n’s upper right leg, all the way to her bum. His despair over her predicament increased when he’d seen that the red itchy bites had mapped all over both legs in the same manner, the fronts and backs of her arms from her hands to her shoulders, her neck, chest, and entire upper and middle back areas as well. As ridiculous and impossible as it was, Freddy wished he could’ve protected his lovely wife from such an awful occurrence.

Freddy knew he couldn’t reasonably expect to count every single bite, much less when driving. But, the simple fact that when he’d looked over to do so he’d seen her agony broke his heart. Freddy sighed as she clutched her hands tightly together to keep from scratching futilely at the marks. After stopping at the next light, he leaned over and pressed a sympathetic kiss to her forehead. “I know you’re miserable, but you’re doing so well, love,” Freddy encouraged.

Freddy prepared himself to try and convince y/n to take the vile-tasting liquid medication the doctor had passed her way. Only, before he could even open his mouth, she’d confirmed with the doctor the appropriate process and then promptly downed the cup in one go. In fact, Freddy’s suspicions of the severity of her condition were confirmed when she went for a second toss of the contents in the cup to be sure to not miss a single drop of the remedy. He brushed some hair from her face and handed her a glass of water to wash down the aftertaste, hating that was all he could do for her.

Freddy listened to the doctor’s advice very carefully, asking plenty of follow-up questions to ensure he knew how to best help his wife. He’d easily memorized that in addition to the liquid steroid medication she’d just taken, the doctor was prescribing y/n some very strong prescription antihistamines to take twice a day at home. Freddy had discussed bathing and showering restrictions with the provider, making mental note to not let her take anything other than a cold water bath or shower until the welts were resolved. He had to come to terms with the notion that y/n’s severe discomfort might not be fully remedied for over two weeks even with the treatment offered. Freddy hated that idea and wanted to cry when he saw y/n holding back tears over the thought of this lasting that long.

“Oohhh,” y/n whined, a sarcastic laugh exiting her lips after. “Gaaahhh, Freddyyyyyy,” she cried out. She shifted around in her husband’s passenger seat unable to get comfortable. “It, it iiiitttcchhesss”.

Freddy’s eyes flickered from the road briefly to look at y/n. He sighed deeply with a frown. “I know,” he replied solemnly. “But-, no darling, no scratching,” Freddy directed, pulling her arm away from her thigh.

“But,” y/n croaked, tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe how insanely itchy her entire body was. Not to mention, there was also this simultaneous burning sensation from the bites and she was exhausted from not sleeping. Y/n genuinely didn’t think she’d been that uncomfortable before without being in excruciating pain. “It itches so badly,” y/n pointed out weakly.

With his eyes turned back onto the road, Freddy took the hand of Y/N’s he’d grabbed moments before and brought it to his lips. He placed a loving kiss on the backside of her hand. “I’m truly sorry, darling,” he acknowledged, “but scratching, well, it’ll only make it worse”.

“Oh bite me,” y/n exclaimed, using her other hand to scratch her ankle aggressively.

Freddy sighed and shook his head. He understood her desire (to the extent he was capable of that is since her situation was far worse than anything similar that he’d ever had). But, he still despised the idea that she could be harming herself by doing so. As such, he tapped one of the few clear spots on her leg and lightly shook his head at her. “Besides,” Freddy murmured, opting for another approach to his response. “I’m afraid things biting you is what got you into this situation, no?” He teased playfully, earning an unamused glare from y/n despite her small whimperish laugh.

Y/n grimaced as the itchy sensation once again fluttered through her body from head to toe and back. She began rubbing her legs against each other in hopes of having the friction ease the desire to actually scratch the bites. Y/n knew it still wasn’t likely an ideal solution, but something had to give, and at least this way she wasn’t risking opening the welts.

“Darling, it’s time,” Freddy said as he entered their living room. He quickly passed y/n her favorite water bottle and one of her newly prescribed antihistamines. They both sighed in minimal relief as she visibly swallowed the pill. It was obvious they were both hoping the pill would start to help her discomfort soon.

“Thank you,” y/n said quietly. She set the water bottle down, a small smile forming as she realized her husband had explicitly cleaned her emotional support water bottle for her to use. “I’m sorry,” she sighed, noticing the confusion the sentiment made form on Freddy’s face. “I’m being difficult and whiny,” y/n admitted, “I know I am, but-“.

“Y/n, love,” Freddy coed warmly. He cupped her face; partially choosing that contact option because it was the only part of her body he could touch without further igniting the itching feeling constantly inside of her. “You can whine and complain all you want,” he said tenderly. “You’re in an absurdly unpleasant and downright desolate state,” Freddy frowned in sympathy. “You’re not being difficult by wanting to, or actually scratching, you are fighting the urge the best you can. I know that.” “Why don’t we watch something on the telly to distract you a bit?” Freddy suggested considerately.

“I am freaking miserable,” y/n said in a singsong voice. She laughed humorously as she slid her shorts back on over her irritated skin, restraining from scratching the bites. She heard Freddy’s sympathetic sigh over the faint sound of his footsteps as he made his way to their bathroom. Y/n turned on the sink faucet, groaning as she prepared to wash her hands with warm water for sanitary purposes despite knowing how much worse her symptoms would be as a result.

Just as the water trickled onto Y/N’s hand, she noticed a small bug on her left at the edge of the vanity corner. It was some small black bug, but that’s all she could tell from that angle. As such, she reached over and moved the decorative item that was blocking her eyes from determining what kind of bug it was that had broken into her home. Y/n quickly realized it was a tiny spider as it began dangling from a thin web against the wall.

Without hesitating or even thinking, Y/N smacked her bare palm against the bug. The realization of what she’d just done hit her instantaneously as she pulled her hand back and saw the squished black mark on the white bathroom wall. “I don’t fuck around with bugs anymore,” she declared thoughtlessly. Y/n didn’t realize how unhinged her behavior or remark were until she heard the way Freddy’s chuckles reverberated around their restroom.

Y/n swallowed thickly as she hurriedly washed her hands. She tried to hide her bashful expression as she spun to where Freddy was in order to dry her hands. Only, it seemed he’d noticed and it only fueled his laughter further. Y/n shot him a fake glare that quickly shifted as she burst into genuine laughter of her own over her actions.

“Bloody hell,” Freddy laughed. He snaked his arms around y/n’s lower back to avoid most of her bites. “I am absolutely enamored by you, y/n/n,” he confessed with an amused grin. “And, quite impressed, you not only didn’t ask me to kill the spider for you, but you used your bare palm to do so on your own and then trash talked it,” Freddy said as he shook his head.

Y/n giggled and cautiously rested her head against Freddy’s shoulder. She made sure she was positioned so that none of the areas of her skin that were covered in bites touched her husband. Not because they were contagious, as they weren’t, but rather to keep her symptoms from increasing. “Let’s not talk about that again,” y/n hummed bashfully.

“Oh, but, darling, we have to talk about that all again still,” Freddy argued playfully. He laughed lightheartedly at y/n’s exaggerated groan, knowing the giggles that followed it showed her true feelings over the situation.

Freddy gasped whisperingly as he entered the bedroom. He figured it was taking y/n too long to change into her pajamas, so he’d wandered that way to check on her and possibly offer some help. Only, it seemed her discomfort had intensified to the point she’d caved into the burning desire to scratch at the inflamed bites. For, Freddy had entered the bedroom to find y/n rapidly scratching any and all areas of her body she could get her hands on; her hands flying around as they moved between areas with aggressively intense speed and force. Yet, it was the already visible result of such actions that made Freddy uncontrollably gasp.

“Oh love,” Freddy whined quietly. He could only imagine how bad her body was feeling if she had resorted to painfully dragging her nails all over her skin in hopes of even temporary relief. Especially as she’d done so to the extent that several of the once red-from-inflammation welts were now red from the trace amount of blood that had begun to leave the now open bites.

Instead of scolding y/n for something he knew was a last resort effort for her, Freddy exited the bedroom and quickly returned with a wet towel. “Let’s clean these off with a cold cloth, yeah?” He suggested as he knelt down before her seated position at the edge of their bed. “Place your hands on my shoulders please, darling,” Freddy requested, planning on using that as a way to keep her from continuing to violently scratch at her body. “Perfect, thank you,” he hummed as he slowly brought the cold cloth to her bare skin.

Freddy took his time cleaning the blood from y/n’s skin. He had intentionally taken longer than was necessary because he recalled how the doctor mentioned a cold compress could help ease the inflammation and therefore hopefully the itching. It was only once Freddy had felt the cloth reach room temperature that he fully removed it from her skin.

When he heard y/n sigh quietly in slight disappointment, Freddy realized instead of ending the round of treatment, he should step up his game. As such, he held onto Y/N’s hands as they remained on his shoulders and lowered them to his chest as he stood. “Darling,” Freddy spoke softly before he kissed her forehead. “I’m going to draw you a cold bath, we’ll give that a try”.

Unfortunately, this went on for quite some time. But, Freddy never gave up on his efforts to ease y/n’s misery. And, no matter how bad it got, y/n was never able to feel truly desolate because she knew her husband would do whatever he could to help her. Eventually, things resolved and Freddy attested that he was going to be sure to remind her to pack & use bug spray for all of her travels even if he wasn’t there to apply it to her skin himself.

Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @alex-kazbrekkersimp @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @el-de-phi

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[nicoforlifetrue]

im writeing a fic for plot swap

so the plot swap post has turned into an entire fic, with a plot chart and everything, this is going to be the basic outline for the difference in au vs cannon considering canon color crew plus purple minus orange are going to be in the au. call this the character chart. if you want to go into the au blind when i post it ignore this

Alan Becker, aka the creator, dad

actually a good stick dad, and cared for them as best he could, currently mia after the hollow heads watched him collapse and be taken away by people. the hollows are doing everything they can to find him.

Victim Becker, aka the firstborn, Vic, was an accidental creation

created rocket corp in an attempt to find the creator, runs it not to dissimilar to a mafia, ruthless with anyone perceived as being in the way, over protective of his brothers has mercs watching them near constantly so nothing can happen to them. considers his siblings an ace up his sleeve if the cards are down considering there powers are much stronger then his.

the chosen one Becker, aka the second born, cho, tco, one, created to give vic someone to spend time with

after a brief stent of destruction after alans disappearance and the pc shutting down now spends most of his time either training second or keeping the home feeling like home, the only sibling actually copeing instead of just trying to fix the problem, he and alan worked on his temper but after alans disappearance its almost as bad as when he was born.

the dark lord Becker, aka the third born, dark tdl, created to give cho someone to spar with

the most laid back after Alan's vanishing, but handling it worse then cho, has not processed what's happening at all, takes his bursts of rage out on any website that bugs him even slightly, vic encourages this, spends most days tearing the web apart trying to locate any sign of alan or sneaking second away from the mercs to go mess around in the city.

the second coming becker, aka the youngest child, sec, tsc, orange, also a complete accident

having only been around for two weeks before his dads vanishing act he blames himself for it, hasnt met any of his friends yet and is lonely, clinging to his brothers for interaction, has really bad social anxiety yet always running away from his babysitters to try and make friends, most of his brothers fear as a result of there dad vanishing has focused onto him, resulting in them being over protective. powers activated when the pc shut down, has a very basic grasp on them but they tend to react to his emotions without his imput.

the color crew(red green blue and yellow)

where never broken out of their game and are still there stuck, sick of being stuck in the fighting loop.

mango tango, aka mt, dad

suspicious of rocket corp but keeping his head down for his family, never went on his rampage because gold never died. retired professional fighter teaching gold how to fight and teaching purple he doesn't have to fight, current stay at home dad.

lilac, aka mom

also suspicious of rocket corp and is also better at keeping her head down then her husband, divorced navy when purple was six and her then husband broke their kids arm, marryed MT when purple was eight, works as a software engineer, her company is offten hired by rocket corp. her illness was treatable because of vic digging into hospital record and other such databases in an attempt to find alan, leading to her actually getting a diagnosis and eventual recovery. she can no longer work in the field and works from home most days, refuses to let MT get a job so she can quit, she likes her work too much and she knows he adores spending so much time with the kids.

marigold, aka gold, big sister

unaware of her parents worry's, is two years older then purple and wants to be a professional fighter like her dad, didn't die because the hollows had gone to the fair before them, and sec had gone in when the error was made but instead of dyeing his powers teleported him to freedom. dosent have any freinds because her energy scares most people away, she dosnt mind. she asks too many questions in too public places for her parents liking, shes going to get into something she cant get out of one of these days.

purple, aka little brother

very aware of his parents concerns, also doesn't have any friends so spends most of the time with his sister, interested in the use of icons outside of their apps, aka one of the things rocket corp specializes in, try's to keep his head down but he's got a strong sense of justice that doesn't like keeping quite

[seeyouinaminute3000]

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Warning: poorly written, making out, lots of "you".

A/N: It's been awhile since I last updated this story! I know there's a downgrade on my writing but I'm trying to do something about it :')) enjoy reading tho!!

The team gathered around the hall when Fury introduced you to them. Offering their hands as they greet you. Some shook your hand and some kissed the back of it.

Although a certain emerald eyes caught your interest— staring right at you is Natasha

Romanoff herself, THE Black Widow.

"Agent Romanoff" she nod at you as an acknowledgement of your greeting before walking past you.

Your nerves seems to be tensed when you were facing her. The atmosphere was silent— too silent before Tony finally clicked his tongue.

"Don't think too much about Romanoff, she isn't actually good at this." He stated.

"Also she could be worse than that" Sam added.

Both of them sharing a laugh earning a glare from the captain.

"What, capsicle? I just remembered Romanoff flipped a new intern right after introducing themselves. She said it was a test." Tony shrugged.

Ever since you were recruited by Nick Fury, many people took their likings on you, even your teammates once shoot their shot on you when Tony threw a party. Unique is something they'll describe you because of how different you are; personality, abilities— everything about you is admirable.

Weeks of staying in the compound and you rarely see Natasha outside of the gym or maybe she's just an early bird and you're a heavy sleeper, in that way your schedules won't definitely match.

As you're making yourself a cup of coffee, someone placed a hand on your exposed waist due to the cropped tank top you're wearing, causing you to freeze on your spot. Meanwhile, the person was just reaching for a mug that is in the cupboard which you are in under.

Great

A raspy voice groggily let out an apology after they noticed you tensed under their touch. You look to your side and see Natasha pouring herself a coffee.

"That's—" before you could finish your sentence she's staring right at you, drinking your coffee.

"I'll just make one again" you sighed and she apologized once again.

After that you made sure to yourself that you'll wake up early, failing almost everyday, you changed your motto; "at least I get to talk with Natasha if I wake up early."

The interactions with Natasha were noticed by some of your colleagues— Her arms clinging on your shoulder as she play with your hair during movie nights, sitting on the beanbag you're in instead of the ones unoccupied, her hands on one of your legs during team meetings, and making coffee side by side as if it requires two person to make.

Natasha never noticed how clingy she is when it comes to you, even the team teased you about it whenever she's not around.

"Come on, Y/N. She's like your personal koala now." Bucky snorted a laugh and you threw a pillow on his face using your power causing him to fall out of your bed. Cons of sitting on the corner of the bed.

This time, you didn't get the chance to talk to her when Steve begged you to fix his laptop since Tony is out on a mission and he got a letter from Fury that they'll sent him in too.

You let out a huff when the device started to lag, there's a possibility that Steve accidentally pressed on a website that has bugs on it.

"Hey" You turned around and saw Natasha, smiling.

"What you got in there?" She asked.

"Steve's laptop is kind of crashing and I don't have the patience to do this right now" you admitted, you're really not good at handling your patience especially when you're stuck in one place and alone— so you don't actually mind Natasha around.

"Here, let me help you" she stood behind your back and leaned in, a hand placed on your waist as support and the other one on the mouse connected to the laptop.

Her front is pressed on your back, she's warm.

Thumb brushing on your skin absentmindedly as she starts working on the laptop— few clicks and it's done.

"I spent hours on that by the way" you muttered under your breath.She probably realized where her hand is and withdrew it from you. She bid her goodbye and went to the gym.

That was three days ago, now she's ignoring you.

Every time you enter the room she'll excuse herself. She wakes up earlier than usual and always out for a run of a walk that sometimes lasts for an hour or three.

You saw him with Bruce laughing in the kitchen, her favorite mug in hands as Bruce offered her coffee. That used to be us— wait I'm not supposed to feel this way. Natasha and I are just friends, right?

She saw you looking from afar, when your gaze met, you huffed and rolled your eyes before going back to your room. It's your turn to ignore her; staying with Tony inside his lab but today is different, Bruce is here too.

"So, you and Romanoff?" You questioned Bruce as soon as Tony left the lab.

The man scratched the back of his head before answering,

"It's complicated" With that, you decided it's much better to roam the streets of New York. What is this feeling.

You love telling your best friend that someday you'll live in a big city, before you left your hometown.

"What the—" You looked at the person holding your wrist, Maria.

"Urgent mission" She whispered on your ear.

It's too sudden but you're stuck inside the compound for too long now, Fury assigned you on a mission for the first time— get the intel and leave the basement, that's all. But they never mentioned that you'll do it with the red head.

You finished it earlier than you two expected— anxiety starts to bubble up inside you out of nowhere, the eerie silence makes you uncomfortable plus the presence of Natasha behind you.

You felt her poking your shoulder and you stopped on your tracks.

"What is it?" You said as quiet as possible. You never meant to say it that coldly.

' It's complicated ' Your brain mocking Banner's answer.

Alarms went out alerting both you and Natasha, armed men swarming the place— shit.

Your eyes glowing green when you felt your power surging through your veins.

"Fire!" A man shouted and bullets made their way towards your direction, casting a force field that turns it into green dusts Natasha was shocked beside you.

The team never saw you using your powers before and that makes Natasha the first one to witness it.

You turned the green dusts into spears and sent it back to the enemies, blood splattered on the walls and their bodies covered with it.

You grabbed Natasha's hand and ran back to the quinjet, it's too risky to release your powers further— it'll take a toll on your body. Still need to control that one.

You were a stumbling mess when you got inside the quinjet but few minutes after, you're completely good again. Natasha looked at you worriedly but she made sure to get the hell out of that place, put the jet on autopilot before checking on you.

"Y/N" she said quietly, caressing your face as she did.

You removed your face from her hand and looked down.

"Romanoff—"

"Romanoff?" Her brows furrowed when you looked at her.

"Isn't that your name?"

"I thought we're already way past that"

"As I was saying, Bruce will not—" You were immediately cut off by Natasha before you could finish it.

"Bruce? What is this supposed to do with him?" She studied you for a while before everything made sense to her.

Her hands made its way on your face again, making you look at her before closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to hers so that she won't notice your tears.

"You're such an idiot" she stated.

"Bruce and I are not together, Y/N" she added firmly and mushed your face with her hands, you're crying.

"You— you were ignoring me, Natasha. Then I saw the two of you together and I thought you're ignoring me because you're already with him" You explained.

"I told myself I'm not supposed to fell in love with you." You sighed before you felt her lips pressed against yours.

"But I can't help it" You finished when she pulled away.

After the mission, the two of you are back to your old routine but this time you're dating THE Natasha Romanoff although the team doesn't know yet. Not until,

"Fuck!" You cussed out when you felt Natasha's hands inside your shirt, making its way to grope your breast as she trails kisses down your neck.

The show you're watching is already forgotten since you started your make out session with the redhead.

"Come on, lovebirds! Not on the couch!" Sam said, you flipped him off before dragging Natasha in your room.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #42: Callaghan

Masterlist

content: hallucinations, psychiatry, past non-con drugging, dehumanization, general themes of abuse

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The laboratory was silent, save for the hum of the deep freezer. The cursor flashed a thin black line on the computer screen. Her notes were all sprawled on the desk, journals and scrap papers arranged in proper chronological order. A cup of coffee sat on a coaster and waited to go cold.

Heather leaned back in her chair. The first word was always the hardest. If she could start with that, the paper would just about write itself, and she—

The door slammed open. “Do you have bug spray?”

She glanced up, not bothering to wipe the irritation off her face. “I beg your pardon?”

Jackie stood in the open doorway, taking a second to catch his breath, his bangs haphazard in front of his eyes, shirt somewhat ruffled. “There’s spiders all over the basement.”

“Spiders?” That was always a problem as the weather got warmer. Spring had almost arrived. It was a bit early, yes, but spiders tended to ignore most calendars. “I… How many are there?”

“I don’t know. A whole lot. Must be a nest or something.”

“A nest?” She stood up from the chair. “I’ll take a look."

They came to the basement door, open to the chasm of its stair steps. They just fixed the shower a couple days ago, and she wasn’t looking forward to another afternoon sorting this out. The basement was where Jackie’s bed stood, after all, and all his furniture. He still slept there sometimes, so an infestation would be inconvenient.

She followed him down the stairs. He turned the light switch on. They waited on the staircase.

If Heather actually saw any spiders, she would have been much less worried. At least pests could be disposed of with some time and effort.

Unfortunately, she saw nothing. Not even any other sort of insect, not even ants or cockroaches. The basement was as empty as it always was, which meant Jackie was seeing things. 

“I guess they’re gone. Weird.” He gave her concerned expression an equally concerned glance. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So, you’re saying that there were spiders here? Right here? On the basement floor?”

“...Yes?” 

“You’re not feeling ill, are you? Do you have a fever?” She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. His temperature was normal, however.

He swatted her hand away. “No, I’m fine. What are you going on about? Spit it out already.”

“Jackie. You’re hallucinating again.”

“Again.” He glared at the featureless concrete floor. "I don't know why it's happening now."

That was the problem: she didn’t know either. Why this was happening, or how to stop it. She knew this wasn’t normal, but that was about as far as her expertise went. She could sedate him, maybe, perhaps administer fever medication, even add in a few antihistamines, but she had nothing for hallucinations. She didn't know where to start. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” she replied firmly. “This is serious.”

He sat sprawled on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “But there’s nothing we can do, right? So… we’ll do nothing. It has to go away eventually. Honestly, they don’t even bother me.”

“They don’t bother you yet, but waiting around will only make the problem worse. We should go to a psychiatrist.”

He shrugged. “I guess."

“The only problem would be finding a psychiatrist who won’t call the police.”

“Ask around. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Ask around where?”

“Oh, you know.” He waved his hand in a vague arc. “There’s probably someone shady you talked to once or twice. Don’t you guys have connections?”

This was such a terrible suggestion that she was at a loss on how to reply. But it did get her thinking. She didn’t know many criminals, but she had met a rather eccentric professor back at Oxford. Professor Callaghan was somewhat prolific with the student body, often going on rants about the limitations of organized academia instead of teaching anything. He quickly became her favorite. Their shared interests and, dare she say it, sense of camaraderie quickly spiraled into an apprenticeship of sorts, where she helped him dig up graves and the like.

This meant he was—luckily for her—a graverobber. Not an ill-mannered graverobber, of course. Not some petty thief. He was actually quite a nice person. Those corpses had been exhumed for scientific reasons, and the occasional gold ring. The bodies looked a little too fresh, sometimes, but what he did in his spare hours was none of her concern. More importantly, this meant he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Ergo, Callaghan wouldn’t complain about a bit of blood on hers.

He taught psychology, but he also had a medical degree, and later moved back to America to open up a psychiatry practice. Americans paid more, he told her, and most of his family lived there. It had been five years since she left school, but she was sure that he wouldn’t mind doing her a favor. If it was money he wanted, so be it. She would pay any amount to ensure her subject’s health.

So she called the professor to set up an appointment. He didn’t live too far from her. Jackie wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea, but he didn’t complain about tagging along.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

They arrived without any trouble, about a week later.

“Are you sure this is his house?” he asked.

Heather glanced behind her shoulder, where Jackie stood at the entrance steps. “Yes, I’m absolutely certain. I checked three times. Also, it says his name there.” She gestured towards the plaque bearing a carving, which read DR. LUKAS CALLAGHAN. 

“Okay, but it just looks so…”

It did have a jarring appearance. Great big arches at the windows, dark mahogany and ashen brick, dramatic sprays of briar rose and blackwoods here and there. But it was a nice place, otherwise. Her old psychology professor was doing well for himself. 

“Hurry up.” She ushered Jackie up the steps with an impatient wave. “We need to be punctual. Professor Callaghan is very particular about these sorts of things, and I want to be polite. He’s doing us a significant favor.”

He followed after her, while she let the big brass knocker hit the door. Once, twice, it echoed against the heavy wood. They waited.

And they waited. It was not so cold anymore, and her breath no longer crystallized in the air. She couldn’t distract herself with that. So she occupied herself with the flora, the thorny bushes and wild roses, the jagged-edged bark against the early evening light. 

The door pushed open. “Miss Rodriguez. What a pleasure to see you again.”

His appearance was exactly as she remembered it: combed black hair, brown skin, and a neat beard and mustache. Pale blue eyes. Formal clothing, or close to formal, neat and clean-pressed in any case. Gray overcoat, polished shoes. Though she was surprised to see a smooth, simple wood cane in the firm grasp of his gnarled hand. Five years had taken a toll.

“Professor Callaghan.” Her smile was genuine. “I hope you’re well.”

“As well as always.” His gaze shifted to Jackie, who looked a bit tense in the eyes and shoulders. “I assume this is Jackson?”

“Yes, that’s Jack.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” But he barely paid Jackie any mind. Instead, the professor opened the door wider, stepped aside. “Please, come in. Have some tea. We can begin our discussion once we’re settled.”

She entered, and so did Jackie, though his gait was rather nervous through the empty hallways and dusty floors, which creaked unreasonably with each and every step. The smell of mildew was faint enough to come off as esoteric. 

Jackie adjusted his shirt collar, then leaned in to mutter to Heather. “Does he know about the… you know…”

“He’s aware of the kidnapping,” she muttered back. Callaghan had not noticed their conversation at all; he was walking straight forward, direct as an arrow, cane clacking against the floorboards at rhythmic intervals. “I told him over the phone.”

“And he didn’t care?” Jackie flicked an irritated glance towards the professor. “Is he not worried… at all?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if he was.”

“What about the immortality?”

“You try convincing someone that immortality exists. I didn’t mention it.” She ended the conversation there, leaned away before he could mutter anything back. 

Just in time, too. The professor slowed down as they rounded into what was likely a living room. Or a guest room, judging by the collection of fine china arranged on the coffee table. Feathered blue on white patterns, teacups on small saucers, and a teapot lined with gold on the lid. 

Callaghan placed his cane against a table leg. He then gestured towards the seats. Victorian-looking. Not quite sofas, not quite chairs. Single seaters. “Please, sit.”

Heather settled into the nearest seat. So did Jackie, to her right.

The professor lifted the teapot and poured its contents into a teacup, the one nearest to Heather. It was a deep amber, steaming slightly once it pooled, while its surface was disturbed by tiny ripples. “We may as well begin our examination. Now, what was it that led to your... particular set of circumstances?"

"What do you mean, professor?”

Jackie raised his hand. “Can I have some tea?”

Callaghan poured him a cup, then settled into the seat opposite them. “I apologize for speaking so bluntly, but I assume you didn’t intend to watch him drink tea all day. If I remember correctly, you took an interest in pharmaceutical research…?”

“Oh, yes, I did. I do. I still do.” She brought the cup to her lips, if only to hide her stammering. Heather had never talked about these things before, not about Jackie’s existence or her experiments, and certainly never in such a blithe manner.

But Callaghan didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Not on the phone and not in person. Nothing could ever shake him. She glanced behind his shoulders. There was a familiar copy of Macbeth placed on the mantle. Heather had given it to him as a gift, so many years ago.

Callaghan spoke again. “I recall that you were interested in developing… ah, the name slips my mind. I know you studied nerve tissue for some time.”

“Yes, I developed a selective paralytic.” She drew her attention away from the mantle. “My experiments were successful, although I doubt it’s safe enough for general use yet. The perils of a small control group, as you might know.” She risked a small smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I simply want a good grasp on all the variables. Jackson has been experiencing hallucinations, yes?”

She nodded. 

“Spiders,” Jackie said. “The hallucinations, I mean. Are spiders. Sir.” He ended this interjection with a stilted cough. 

“Indeed,” said Callaghan. “There could be any number of causes, and I simply wish to lay them all out on the table, so to speak. How often do these hallucinations occur?”

“They stopped for a few months,” she said. “They started again this week. I’m not sure why. I’ve tried everything, professor, but none of it is working. What should I do?”

Jackie gave her a bewildered glance, but Callaghan answered with comforting curtness. “We’ll put together a treatment in due time. There’s no need to panic. Now, has he been given any medication in the last week?”

“A few doses of sedatives.” Not that she wanted to start drugging his food without his knowledge again, but she was concerned for his safety. “He’s been irritable, recently.”

“What?” Jackie cut in. “I wasn’t being—“

She stepped on his shoe from under the table, keeping her expression on Callaghan all the while. Jackie stopped talking. Though his grip on the teacup was turning his knuckles pale, and the corners of his mouth were tense again.

The professor picked up a notepad from the table, then procured a fountain pen from his coat. He wrote in precise motions of his rough hand. “Was any Percocet administered? Oxycodone? Benzodiazepines?”

“No Percocet or oxycodone. I administered four milligrams of benzodiazepines for a week. Pentazocine, as well, fifty milligrams for two weeks. Some aspirin, occasionally, and some experimental drugs I developed."

“I see.” He nodded to himself and wrote something down. Then he gestured to Jackie. "How have you been feeling?"

“I'm fine,” Jackie said.

“You can be honest, Jackson. Such a situation can be stressful, I’m sure. I doubt Miss Rodriguez will harm you for speaking the truth in a medical setting.”

“Yes, I won’t. Go ahead, Jackie. Speak your mind.” She stared at him, waited, widening her eyes just enough that he would notice.

“I guess, I—“ He seemed to be profoundly uncomfortable. Stock-still as a rabbit on its hind legs, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. “I guess I’ve been kind of… I don't know. I'm being honest, everything's okay."

This, too, was written down. Now Heather understood why Jackie disliked her tape recorders. “Is that true? You used some strong wording on the phone, Miss Rodriguez. I assumed it wasn't his choice to assist you."

She hesitated for as long as polite manners would allow. “It wasn't.”

Jackie had taken to staring, not just daggers, but bullet holes into the table.

“Well, we don’t need to get into details.” The pen scratched upon paper. “Just so that we cover all our bases—has he suffered a concussion, or any cranial injury of that sort?"

Removing his frontal lobe might have been detrimental. Heather decided to leave that topic alone. "No."

"I thought so. I've always known you to be careful. I do wonder, what became of you after leaving Oxford? It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“Five years. Or, I suppose it’s been six, from your perspective.” Callaghan left in her last year of study. His replacement was much less interesting, so Heather stopped taking psychology shortly after. “I continued researching on my own. If I worked under someone else's supervision, I would be wasting my time. You of all people should understand that, professor."

“Indeed. I understand why you might wish to keep this private. I think a change would be good for you, in fact. Especially after that loss in your family. Still, you were quite the student. If it means anything, I’m certain you’ll find success in your study.”

It did actually mean something. It meant quite a lot to her, in fact. She swallowed, tried not to show it on her face. Heather did not receive much support in her scientific endeavors, lately. She had been half-afraid that Callaghan wouldn’t entertain her at all, that he would dial the authorities right after hanging up. On the contrary, however. He had been nothing but pleasant during their reunion.

Jackie was starting to look bored.

Callaghan cleared his throat. “You, Jackson, what is your relationship with her?”

His head lifted. “It’s good.”

The professor glanced at Heather. “Would you agree with this statement?”

“Yes,” she replied slowly. “I would.”

“Interesting.” Callaghan was studying her expression intently. “There is no animosity between you two?”

“Not… particularly,” she said. “We have arguments, sometimes, but that's all.”

Jackie offered nothing on this subject. He resumed staring, into his tea this time.

“Interesting,” Callaghan repeated. “Miss Rodriguez, you informed me that he doesn’t have a family history of illness, correct? As far as you know.”

“Yes.”

“And the hallucinations are the main symptoms.” He nodded. He capped his pen but didn’t put the notepad down. “Jackson, I will need you to follow me. I have a soundproof room.”

Jackie hesitated, and so did she. “What do you need him for?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing invasive. I simply would like to ask a few questions in private.” Callaghan stood up. His cane resumed its place in his hand, tapping against the floor as he stepped away from the seat. “I find it helps patients to speak more freely. I wish you no harm, Jackson, so there’s no need to look so tense.”

“Sorry, sir.” He stood up as well, then followed Callaghan to a hallway around the corner.

Heather watched them leave. Once she was sure they were gone, she sighed and slumped in her chair. This was all for Jackie, she reminded herself. Also, partly to see Callaghan again, though it pained her to admit it. In Oxford, she was always surrounded by people. It was impossible to find a quiet place. Her father had died while she was abroad, so she came back to an empty house, and she hadn't gotten used to it. She didn't know anyone from work. It bored her. Or was it apathy? The days seemed to stagnate sometimes.

Well, that didn't matter anymore. There was nothing to worry about. Jackie would be cooperative. He had said so, practically promised it, swore it up and down, and she believed him.

A soundproof room. How quaint. Heather could get one of those. She and the professor had many shared interests, clearly. Though that shouldn’t have been reassuring, it was. She had never felt nervous around Callaghan, even as a baby-faced and vulnerable first year. She probably should have felt nervous. Nobody knew where she went during those 'night classes', and Callaghan carried a heavy shovel when they visited the graveyard. She had been alone with him for hours. Still, she never thought his intentions would sour.

It was a little unnerving that he could convince her so easily. It was the way he spoke. So calm all the time. And he was a trustworthy man. A solid pillar of the scientific community, of academia in general. Five long years. Six years, actually. She had missed him.

The clock up on the wall ticked, a higher-pitched sound than the clock in her own home. She tapped her hand against the seat’s arm while she waited.

A door creaked open in the hallway. She sat up straighter. There, in the far shadows of the room—only one person, Callaghan returning alone. She stood to greet him.

“Professor? Do you know what’s wrong?”

“There’s no need to fret, Miss Rodriguez.” He approached her. “I believe I have my diagnosis.”

“You do? Is it permanent? Is it—“ She frowned. “Professor, was my treatment of him too… harsh?”

“No, no.” He paused. “Well, yes, but that can’t be helped. A hostage situation always involves some level of stress, after all. But I don’t think the damage is excessive.”

“Then… what is it? What’s your diagnosis?” She gazed up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, though she was aware in the back of her mind that she probably looked ridiculous. Like a child. Callaghan was so much older than her, though. Taller than her, by half a foot at least. She couldn't compare.

“He certainly has a… strange relationship with you. There’s nothing to be done about that, I suppose. It must make your work easier, so…” He trailed off. “Well, aside from that, Jackson has experienced a great deal of strain. The hallucinations must originate from a combination of stress and heavy drug use. It’s not too uncommon. I’ve seen it in other patients before.”

“You have? Can he be cured?”

Callaghan shook his head. “I’m not sure about a cure, necessarily. It’s hard to say. He’s always going to be affected by it. But the symptoms can be managed. With some time and rest, the hallucinations could go away completely.”

“But, professor, why is he seeing spiders?”

“Ah, it’s a mystery.” He chuckled quietly. “But it’s not something to work yourself up about. Certainly, shadowy black objects are what a patient usually sees.”

That made sense. She nodded.

“Now, as for his treatment.” Callaghan produced two bottles of pills. White and the size of inkwells, labeled with rectangular green stickers. “This is anxiety medication.” He handed her the first bottle. “Administer that every day for a week. Don’t give him any grapefruit.” Then, the second bottle. “This is for sleep. Use it sparingly, since we don’t want him to develop a dependence.”

Alprazolam and Eszopiclone. “Thank you, professor.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Rodriguez.”

“Yes, professor. I appreciate this, really. I can’t express my gratitude enough. I just have one question.” A worry, more like, a quiet fear at the back of her mind. “What should I do if he doesn’t get better? What if he gets worse?”

At this, Callaghan gave her a comforting look, a gentle certainty of an answer. “You could always dispose of him. I’m sure you are well aware of how we euthanize mice. An anesthetic and a sharp blade should be sufficient. If Jackson is no longer useful, there’s not much point in wasting resources on him.”

She forced her expression not to change. Even if Jackie could die, she couldn’t bear the thought. He was… he was her… well, whatever the word for it…

“Professor,” she said quietly, “you’re talking like he’s not human.”

His comforting look only grew in weight, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Heather, you’re very attached to him. I can see that. But you can’t get too attached. You will have to make some difficult decisions eventually. Don’t let emotions interfere with that.”

“Difficult decisions… like what?”

“Who truly knows? That’s the beauty of science, isn’t it? It’s full of surprises.” He was so calm about it all, as steady as an anchor. His hand lifted from her shoulder. “Don’t overwork yourself. Oh, and do keep in touch. Call me in a week. Jackson is a terribly fascinating patient, and I’d like to see how his condition progresses. To adjust doses and such.”

“Of course. I’ll call you.”

The warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. He had always been a sentimental man. It was the rosy tint of memory over them both. 

But this pause didn’t last long. Callaghan started. “Ah, I nearly forgot.”

He held out a business card. At least, she thought it was a business card. There were flowery gold embellishments around the sides, thin leaves and such, and lines of serifed black text in the center of it all. There was a name—Mary Callaghan, she read silently—and a number. Heather took it from his hand.

“That is my sister’s contact information,” he explained. “She has dealt with this sort of situation before. She would be happy to answer any questions. I’m not terribly experienced in this field, I’ll admit. Most of the people she deals with have stopped breathing by the time I get to them. Cadavers don’t make for interesting small talk, I’m afraid.” He laughed.

Heather laughed along with him, though she was thoroughly exhausted.

Callaghan soon cleared his throat and stepped aside. “You may retrieve Jackson and return home now. I greatly hope for your success.”

“Thanks.” She pocketed the card. “Thank you, professor. For everything.”

“You’re very welcome, Rodriguez.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[autumn-may]

Please tell me about the data boys AU I love the data boys so much and you draw them so CUTE AAAAA

(Im gonna @ the people who asked about the fic: @dergshadow @mosttsundereofplants @bloody-holly)

(It’s more of a fix-it fic than a au but lol)

Ask and ye shall receive ig 

The short of it is I force data sora and data riku back into the story while flipping nomura off for the re:coded ending ft. Riku and data-riku being friends, data-soriku being fun, and minor 358/2 references. I’ve been calling the au Re:Boot! 

Full concept under cut: (it’s pretty long)

edit:I’m writing it

The long of it is during re:mind the data battles crash, and the Final Fantasy group+Riku theorize that it might have something to do with Jiminys Journal (seeing as the data battles are made with data from the journal) Riku goes to Disney castle and it turns out yeah that’s probably what’s happening! The Disney castle computer displays the words ‘there are new hurts to be undone’. Riku is sent into the datascape in order to help with said hurts. 

   The long of it is  Riku enters to a really bugged up version of the data destiny islands, and is told by the Disney gang from the outside to find a way to get deeper into the datascape and help out. (System sectors). Riku finds it and enters. 

  First and second levels of the sector go pretty standard, fight the buggy heartless and all that however one of the bugs for the second level has a similar silhouette to sora, which is a little unnerving to say the least. The third level looks like rikus data(from when he got bugs in him) and the Disney gang loses contact with riku at this point. 

(YES the three stages getting more buggy the deeper you go is a reference to the boss stages in re:coded. If you even care) 

Riku looks around for a bit and D!riku (that’s what I’m calling data-riku rn) notices him from somewhere in the datascape, and teleports or something to him. After the initial ‘we’re the same guy’ convo D!riku tells him about the bugs, and how he believes that they are caused by D!soras amnesia, as he gained a heart, which is currently sleeping due to the reset (hearts can be destroyed and all that yk the deal). Since the datascape is sorta centered on d!sora, if something’s wrong with his code it might affect the datascape. D!riku tells him that since the reset, he’s been working to attempt to find soras heart, but he hasn’t been able to make much headway (maybe because a heart is separate from data, and isn’t as easily manipulated) 

(That’s my idea for why he wasn’t really there in the post reset stuff on soras side at least ) 

Well where is D!sora you ask? Well let’s go see! They teleport away and oh frick is that the memory pod. (Things are getting uncomfortably familiar for riku) D!riku has him in there as he works to find and wake soras sleeping heart, (instead of having to like, chase him around the datascape with a computer or something, sleeping heart doesn’t necessarily equal sleeping guy in this situation so we just put him in a coma). D!riku opens the way to D!soras data, and in they go.

They search for a bit, and when D!riku gets frustrated at the lack of progress, the bugs slightly worsen (riku notes this). Riku asks a bit about d!rikus relationship with d!sora, saying his drive to protect him is something they have in common. D!riku actually somewhat denies this, reminding riku about how the datascape is centered on sora, d!riku—to some level— is the datascape. it’s just a part of his programming, the journal correcting a glitch in the system through him. Besides, d!soras the one with a heart, d!rikus just a really good AI and also kinda a clone. Riku is so skeptical of this.

Riku says that he doesn’t believe that, d!riku fights to protect d!sora because he just cares about d!sora. Surely d!rikus noticed the bugs grow stronger the worse d!riku feels, if the data scape affects him, surely he affects the datascape as well. And a system as advanced as the data scape wouldn’t be programmed to destroy itself. By going to such lengths, d!riku proves he’s more than his programming, he’s more than the datascape, he has a heart, and he cares about d!sora in a way a line of code couldn’t. 

Well that revelation kinda broke d!riku but that’s fine. The bugs lessen however, so that’s a good sign also the final boss dark side shows up. The rikus prepare for  a fight, and d!riku recognizes this as d!soras heartless. (Bond between d!soriku manifested in the datascape bringing their hearts together)  They win the fight, and recover d!soras heart, which is still sleeping. Riku uses the power of waking, tracing the bond between him and d!riku, and d!riku and d!sora. Rikus able to wake up d!soras heart, restoring his memories, and the rikus leave his data. 

D!riku thanks riku for the help, and releases d!sora from the memory pod. D!sora and d!Riku reunite (i fight the urge to reverse the kh2 scene yk the one) riku feels comforted in his search for sora (idk he sees the bond between data!soriku as able to physically manifest into bringing them together so I mean why not real soriku?)  

The trio go back to the surface of the datascape, Disney gang gets to reunite with the data-gang and they apologize for not being able to help more (“gee well, if we knew you were hurting, we would of sent someone way sooner” “We can’t just leave our friends behind!” Or something idk) and riku comes back to the real world.

Riku talks to the data boys through the computer, d!sora asks about sora which is just a little bit of a punch in the gut (reminder this takes place during re:mind) but anywayyyy d!sora wonders if there’s a way they could enter the real world, since riku was able to come to the datascape. (They probably couldn’t :( they never had physical bodies, they have data bodies) Riku thinks about it and realizes hey wait a minute isnt Evens whole job making bodies for hearts that need them they totally could come to the real world. 

So riku calls up Even who’s intrigued by the idea of hearts that existed only in data, and how they would manifest in the real world. So needless to say, he gets to work. A while later d!rikus separated from the journal, and the dynamic data duo is brought to the real world yippee!! 

(If you’ve ever seen my redesigns of the two data’s they would get their new outfits right here) 

And that’s the main idea! I’ve had it for like,,,a couple months? But it’s been stuck in my brain for a while and i like it a lot, just got a Ao3 account so maybe I’ll write it but no promises 

[alpaca-clouds]

You cannot fix a broken System (but you can build a better one)

Let me finish the entire week on politics and revolution with one thing that I wish for people to understand: Sometimes systems are too broken to fix them. Sometimes they are so broken, that any fixes are basically just ducttape on a car that is slowly breaking down. Like, sure, it will allow it to somehow rattle along for a couple more months, but in the end it is going to break down and no amount of ducttape is gonna prevent that.

For example, I see the current western education system as such a case. We can fix the curriculum in one way or another, but that does not change the fact that the system itself is very broken. We need to completely rethink how we do schools and education, instead of fixing little issues here and there.

And, yes, democracy I consider the same case. Our democracy is broken. In some countries (like the US) more than others. But it is broken everywhere. Part of the reason it is broken is capitalism. Because capitalism in any degree on a long run is going to make democracy into a plutocracy. There is no way around here.

And of course, our economic system is broken. Well, to be honest, it is not broken. It works as intended. The issues are not bugs, but features. But it does not work in favor of most people participating in it.

People always look like easy, quick fixes for all those things. Maybe one more rule will fix the economics. Maybe one more law will make democracy fair. But it never does. On the contrary. Often it ends up getting worse. Because the system is so broken, that those who make the changes have an interest in keeping the system broken in this way. So their fixes actually entrentch the issues existing within the system already.

This is also where the entire thing with sabotage and respectability politics come in. Because when people just go onto peaceful protests and all those things... Well, the system is so broken that it does not really concern the politicians.

A couple of years back on one of the climate protests in Germany about 5% of all Germans were on the streets on the same day taking part in the protests all over Germany. Which is huge. In some cities it was even a bigger percentage. In my own city there were 12% of all people on the streets that day according to the police!

So, how did the politicians react to that? Well: "95% of all Germans were not on the street, so they agree that our current way of dealing with this is good." Ignoring that of course a lot of people were unable to go out to protest on a workday. While at the time I was working at a company who decided that companywide we would get the day off to go to that protest... that was not true for most people. So, yeah, 5% of all people being on the streets that day is MASSIVE.

The same goes of course for stuff like elections. It does not matter what you vote for. Like, of course you need to vote for the lesser evil, but in the end... It will not change much about how politicians act.

And that in the end is the issue. See, those who currently hold the power and use it for their own advantage want you to do those nice and peaceful little thingies, because they can just ignore it. I do not remember who said it, but there was a nice thing one civil rights leader said once: "If they allow it, it will not get us anywhere." And that is the thing.

The system is broken. But it is build in a way that people cannot fix the system from within it. The system is broken. But we can build a better one. One that actually works for the people. One that is actually just and actually democratic.

We cannot be too afraid of the system to change. Because right now the horror of the system is too large to ignore.

[nt-studios]

Jam is over... so, now what?

Welp, the eighth Strawberry Jam has officially come to an end. Because of this, I wanna take a brief moment to share what I've learned the past month-and-a-half and my future plans up to this point...

As you may recall from my previous post, I made the choice to pause production on my current project to enter in this year's jam. I did this because I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity for me to take a small break from working on the same game I've been putting all of my attention towards for the past year now, and instead explore newer ideas that I've been wanting to tap into for a while.

I knew ahead of time that with a full-time job outside of game dev, this was gonna be a struggle. I would have to find the right amount of wiggle room within my busy day-to-day schedule to work on a fresh project under a tight deadline. And welp... the results kinda spoke for themselves. I ended up with an untested, unstable, nearly unplayable game by the time submissions closed. No matter how many bug fixes I tried to make postmortem, the game's concept just didn't work.

I'm gonna be completely frank here... this made me really upset the last couple of weeks. It completely shattered my confidence as a game dev and I nearly scrubbed my submission from the judging panel because I wasn't happy with what I made. But ultimately, I had to remind myself of just how much time and effort I put into this thing already. It would just make me feel worse thinking I did all this work for nothing.

All in all, though, this experience has made me understand my limitations a bit more. I felt trapped in my current project, like Mornin' Firebreather was the only thing I was meant to work on and nothing else. I was starting to feel a bit fatigued, so I used this opportunity as an excuse to break out of this cycle I've created for myself. But now I know that relying on a timed game jam to scratch this itch I've been having wasn't the right approach.

So now, what does this mean for the future of my game dev journey? The jam is over, so what're the next steps from here? Well... now I have a second project under my belt. Despite its flaws, the story is still something I'm quite proud of and honestly one I can't discard just because the game itself is crap. Therefore, I'm gonna be taking additional time to do some serious maintenance on The Makeup Exam (*without* a time constraint). I'll keep the original jam version up until maybe the end of this coming weekend, but then I'll remove it from itch and eventually do a re-release with an actual, playable product.

With that being said, I'm also gonna turn this Tumblr blog into a general game dev one, where I'll be posting devlogs and updates for ALL of my games instead of just Mornin' Firebreather. Now, this doesn't mean that I'm quitting production on Mornin' Firebreather. I still have big plans for that game that I haven't forgotten about 😜

But yea... that's pretty much it. I know this update was a little longer than usual, just had a lot going through my mind as of late.

[littledragondork]

I have returned. But for once, it's actually about gameplay and not lore.

So you know how you need to take the Nightingale oath during the Thieves Guild quest line? Well, I have been plagued with a bug that causes Karliah to walk away and leave instead of opening the gate. Do you happen to know how to stop that from happening? Or if there's a mod available on PS4 to fix it?

I attempted the solutions I found when I looked it up, but most of them were ones I couldn't utilize or just didn't work. One of them (the "keep running into her until she turns around and then wait an hour" one) actually just ended up getting Karliah stuck behind the gate, making the situation worse.

Oh no I had that glitch a few times!!! It sucks!!!! Sadly I don't have a fix for it other than restart, revert to last save, or just not complete that quest and have it (and Karliah) haunt you forever.

I am a PC player so I don't know any mod solutions for it. But one way to prevent it I found is to talk to Brynjolf stopping him from getting ahead of Karliah when she goes to open the gate, that seems to stop her AI from thinking "ah yes I must wander the world for all time".