#not a simulation variant

[theamityelf]

What's your take on polytagonist/naehinahara? I just feel like they'd be really cute 'cause they're unconfident boys who would definitely support and be there for each other <3

Also just the thought of them tag teaming in each class trial is really appealing to me............ but how would that even work? maybe in an au where Monokuma gathers all the past killing game survivors for one last killing game? but ough that's just so tragic............ but at the same time can you imagine them taking turns in pairing up together?? investigating together?? 🥹

First of all, of course I love them as a ship! I already like Hinaegi and Naehara separately, and Hinahara would also be a fun combination, with Hajime's steady abrasiveness and Shuichi's more precise, infrequent abrasiveness in-between bouts of malleability.

As for that specific scenario:

Oh my gosh, first of all, I'm going to say for this AU that despite the 77th class all having been brought back after SDR2, only the survivors of that game are in this new killing game. For V3 I'm going to say that was also a simulation, specifically so Kaito and Kokichi can get pulled in on some technicality about their case being inconclusive.

Now, you may look at this as me very specifically targeting the trauma of the THH cast, since they're the only ones whose entire friend group is in the killing game.

Anyway, I'm also going to say everyone's memory is erased except the protags, because whoever set this up is doing it as a specific torture of them. This means we have pre-character development Maki, Fuyuhiko, Byakuya, etc. in play, and if the protagonists try to impress upon them that they're already friends, they just get extremely suspicious and defensive.

Naturally, this means the protagonists all huddle up together right away.

"Alright, who's doing this one?" Makoto wonders.

"I don't know," Hajime says.

"You don't know?" Shuichi repeats in dismay. "You're from the Future Foundation and you're from Ultimate Despair. I thought one of you would have some idea."

"Whoever it is, we're not in a simulation right now," Hajime says.

"You're sure?" Makoto says.

"Positive."

"That's...worse, but...we know our friends. Whoever let us keep our memories did it to hurt us, but we know our friends."

(Hajime levels a sympathetic look on Makoto.)

"Knowing someone doesn't help you stop them from killing, if they feel they have a reason," Shuichi says quietly, thinking of Maki. "And the mastermind is in charge of giving people reasons."

"I probably could have re-befriended my friends the slow way, if I'd caught on faster that they didn't remember me," Makoto sighs. "Now, I weirded them out, and it'll be a lot harder."

"That's okay. You can actually branch out," Hajime suggests. "You should talk to Fuyuhiko and...Yumeno. Those are good matches for you. Once you've gotten to know them, I think Hagakure is also still an option; he's more interested in your seemingly supernatural insights than anything, though aligning yourself with him might not legitimize you in the eyes of Kirigiri, Togami, or Fukawa. I can reason with those three. Shuichi should spend time with Akane and Asahina."

"Then, what about Sonia, Kaito, Maki, Kazuichi, and Kokichi?" Makoto asks.

"Focus on your two for now, okay?"

It is a good idea, and they do mesh well with those groupings, but of course things don't go entirely to plan.

And of course, whenever something terrible happens, they retreat to each other's arms. They're all protective of each other, and they're all protective of their own friends, and the potential for hurt/comfort is matched only by the potential for messiness when some of them have to prioritize who they most want to protect.

Hajime's many talents are, of course, an asset, but if he knows multiple people are in danger at once and he can't save all of them, he's prioritizing his friends (which include Makoto and Shuichi) over their friends and might even have to do a trolley-problem-style switcheroo where Toko dies in Sonia's stead or something of the sort. He wasn't the one to kill her, but he decided who he was more willing to lose.

Shuichi would be willing to lie in the trials, and Kokichi would notice, and Kyoko would probably also notice. Hajime would back up Shuichi's lies when he knows he can get away with it and contradict them when he knows he can't. Makoto would not lie because he finds it really important that everyone is able to trust each other.

Kaito might punch Fuyuhiko in the face at some point. That would go really poorly. Or maybe he tries to punch Fuyuhiko in the face but Makoto's in the way and gets punched instead, solidifying Fuyuhiko's bond with Makoto because now he's got to teach this guy a lesson for effing with both of them! (Kaito is sorry, but like...not sorry enough?)

And Makoto (who passes out on impact, btw; his character development didn't involve not passing out when he gets punched in the face) is just like "No, you don't have to do anything to Kaito!" while Fuyuhiko is all "Sit down and let me handle this."

Makoto realizes, over the course of calming his friend down, that Hajime set both him and Shuichi up with people who could and would protect them from physical threats. He always thought of it as Hajime trusting him to keep Fuyuhiko out of trouble and trusting Shuichi to keep Akane out of trouble, but in a way, he's also trusting his friends to keep Makoto and Shuichi safe.

The day Maki dies or gets executed (I'm sorry, there's no way she sruvives this one.), Shuichi sleeps in Makoto's bed, crying into his chest. Hajime intuits where they both are and brings them food. He wants to curl up on Makoto's other side, but he has to keep watch over the school. There are too many people they can't afford to lose.

(A version of this same AU where it is a simulation is also on the table. In that case, Hajime wouldn't have any Kamukura Project stuff in his head and also motives like Despair Disease could happen.)

[certified-diplodocus]

I just want you all to know that I beat the Least Steps challenge for Chamber 16 of Portal (one of the most evil challenges ever inflicted by man upon man) by 15 steps instead of the required 40

and I am feeling very unhumble about it

[bestfictionaldinosaur]

Best Fictional Dinosaur Tournament: Megatheropod Bracket; Round 1D, Poll 4/8

[ask-obt]

Is Requiem like a darkrai and cressilia smooshed together? Speaking of I absolutely adore your take on hybrids and your art style is just too hecking cute.

Requiem: I dunno, do I look like that to you? And here I thought my sense of style was original.

[formidable-fermenter]

need you to know your username and that tag paragraph you left on a reblog one time have captivated me and that's why I followed. I know nothing about fermenting. I've spoken of you to my friends. tell me a fact about fermentation

I’m going to scream, this is my first ever ask and I’m so nervous!

Let’s see, a fact about fermentation.

There are too many so here’s a few that I find interesting 🤷‍♂️

SCOBY (the thing most commonly associated with kombucha) stands for (S)ymbiotic (C)ulture (O)f (B)acteria and (Y)east

Vinegar can also develop a SCOBY. However, instead of being called a SCOBY, it’s more typically referred to as a MOV - (M)other (O)f (V)inegar

Hot sauces can be fermented. Many famous hot sauces are fermented. And it’s generally agreed upon that fermentation hot sauces have a better blend of flavors.

If a bread had yeast in it it’s been fermented. The difference between regular bread and sourdough bread is that with the wild yeast some bacteria will also take root which helps give that nice tart taste!

Fermentation is just the process of having smaller microorganisms digest a food before you do. The most common fermenters are fungi and yeast, bacteria, mold, and enzymes.

All vinegar starts as alcohol

Even salamis and other dried/aged meats are fermented!

There’s so much more I could talk about, but these are a spread of facts that are neat!

[leafofkudzu]

I see the poll’s final results and I’ll have a proper announcement post for the art party up tomorrow afternoon/evening! Got distracted by room reno stuff tonight and have work things tomorrow, but no last-minute announcements this time - it will happen at a reasonable time this time around!

[ask-kuu]

What flowers do you like Kuu?

wow, it’s been ages. Uhm… I’m ‘sorry’ for not looking at my inbox. I just didn’t feel like it. Well, I’m not a gardener. But, on my walk to school, specifically in the summer months, I pass these beautiful blue flowers. I think they are called ‘Ajisais’. They are drunk on religious festivals I attend with school, too. Not bad.

[prokopetz]

I'm spinning this off of the main thread about tracing the origin of the term "d66" because it's not strictly germane to the topic – none of these examples actually use the term "d66" to describe their dice-rolling methods – but I'm going to post it anyway as a matter of general interest: following a conversation with Tumblr user @notclevr, it appears that before tabletop wargames (and, nearly concurrently, tabletop RPGs) got their hands on the mechanic, the principal (though by no means exclusive) users of the old "roll a six-sided die twice, reading one die as the 'tens' place and the other die as the 'ones' place" trick may have been tabletop American baseball simulators.

The most notable example of the type – and the only well-known example still in publication today – is J Richard Seitz' APBA Baseball, first published in either 1950 or 1951 (accounts vary). In this game, a d66 roll is cross-referenced with a card representing the active player and a "board" representing the current situation on the field:

For example, with Carlton Fisk at bat, a d66 roll of 31 would yield a result of "8". Assuming for the sake of argument that the situation on the field is a runner on first and a grade C pitcher, consulting the "Runner on First Base" board, this corresponds to an outcome of "SINGLE—line drive to left; runner to third".

(This example is, strictly speaking, incorrect, as Carlton Fisk didn't have his major league debut until 1969 and I'm using the wrong lookup tables for any year in which he played, but you get the idea!)

Interestingly, APBA Baseball is not the first game to use this setup. It's heavily derived from Clifford Van Beek's National Pastime, a game whose patent was registered in 1925, though it wasn't actually published until 1930. Even at a glance, the similarities are substantial:

Indeed, though National Pastime's lookup tables are much simpler than APBA Baseball's, where they overlap they're often word for word identical. It's generally accepted that Seitz plagiarised National Pastime without credit when creating APBA Baseball (ironically, given his own famously combative stance toward alleged imitators!), though he was within his rights to do so, as National Pastime had fallen into the public domain by the time APBA Baseball was published.

We can go back even further, though. As far as I've been able to determine, the earliest known tabletop baseball simulator to use d66 lookup tables for resolving plays is Edward K McGill's Our National Ball Game, first published in 1886:

A copy of the game's 1887 US patent application can be downloaded here. This one uses an unusual 21-entry variant of the standard d66 lookup table in which the order of the rolled digits is insignificant, with doubles being half as likely as non-doubles rolls; it's unclear whether McGill was aware of this when he laid out the table. Unlike later incarnations of the genre, there are no individual player statistics, with all at-bats being resolved via the same table.

[freedomfireflies]

404*

Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.

And you can’t fucking stand each other.

Word Count: 2.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.

He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did. And then I came back.”

You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”

“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”

Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”

“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”

“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”

“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”

“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”

“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”

He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”

“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”

Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”

“I did, but I’m done now.”

“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”

“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”

“No thanks.”

Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”

“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”

“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”

You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”

He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”

“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”

He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”

He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”

“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”

His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”

“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”

His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”

“Poor girl.”

“Yeah? What about poor me?”

“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”

His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”

“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”

“Hear it all the time with you.”

“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.

Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.

He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.

His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.

It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.

His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.

Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.

You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.

He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”

Your lashes flutter shut.

“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”

Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.

“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”

He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”

With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.

“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”

You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.

He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else. 

“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”

You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.

“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”

You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”

He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”

“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”

“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”

You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock. 

You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.

He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.

You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.

Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.

You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”

He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”

And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.

The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.

“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”

“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek. 

“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”

He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.

“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.

“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”

“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”

You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.

The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.

Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.

But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.

In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.

Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.

“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”

You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so. 

“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.

Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.

But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.

And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.

“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”

He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.

“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”

You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.

“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”

You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.

“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”

It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.

He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.

He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.

It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up. 

He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.

He smirks.

Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same. 

Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.

“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”

Next Part:

~ Off the Shelf* (pt. 2)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

[apas-95]

I think there should be a social-deduction game like Among Us, Mafia, or Trouble in Terrorist Town, but where killing people is really hard.

In Mafia (or Werewolf etc) killing is extremely abstracted - the killer chooses someone to kill each round and that's that. Some variants will have doctors or other player roles that can intercede, but the actual act of killing is basically telepathic. Similarly, in Among Us, the impostors kill instantly with the press of a button, though they at least need to be in physical proximity with their quarry. In Trouble in Terrorist Town, innocent terrorists are also armed, and can fight back against traitors (replacing the usual vote-to-execute mechanic with a tense standoff), but killing any individual target is generally as simple as pointing a ahotgun at their chest and clicking the trigger.

Games simplify or complexify mechanics to change the gameplay environment. When you have regenerating HP, or instand healthpacks, damage is a lot cheaper than when you have simulated bleeding, tourniquets, and cardiac arrest. Social deduction's party game lineage strongly influenced its conventions, but in a genre centred around the act of killing, its simplification may be a hindrance. Generally, the only question on the killer player's mind is when to kill, not how - they are, generally, only stopped from immediately and indiscriminately killing by their own discretion. Making the act of killing a task in itself, making building up the capacity to kill arduous, could provide a more engaging experience, as well as inducing greater paranoia over a potential killer without any concrete evidence.

Even minor changes, like a version of TTT where ammunition or weapons were scarce, would significantly change the gameplay - and in a genre where a shifting balance of power is the point, could add some interesting dynamics.

[clip-the-simp]

Training Day

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word Count: 2,806

Cw: slight proofreading, language, violence, blood,

Summary: Professor X decided it’s time for you to hone your powers for more than just defensive field work. However things get a little out of hand when Logan is the one running the simulation.

A/N: Reader had the same powers as in the previous fic, A Logan Holiday. I’ll be keeping the readers powers and backstory the same unless someone sends in a request for other power variants or I state otherwise.

It frustrated you to no end that you had been forced out of your comfort zone. You were good at what you did. Bending light particles to form unbreakable shields was the safest use of your powers. It was useful for keeping both the team and bystanders out of harm's way.

Charles however saw the potential in your abilities. Not only could you bend light particles but also atoms on a subatomic level. It took more out of you to manipulate denser atoms which is why the training was necessary. But no matter how much you pushed yourself, the fear of causing an atomic explosion and whipping out the institute loomed over your head.

“Fight like you mean it!” Logan yelled before another blast from the cannon fired. The Danger room was simulated as an attack from a Sentinel and so far your ass was getting kicked. Charles had decided it was time for you to learn more offensive maneuvers instead of always being on the defensive.

The impact from the blast brought you to the ground where you quickly had to roll out of the way of falling debris. Your breathing was ragged as you stood, Logan looking down at you from the control room. His voice yet again came over the speakers.

“You gotta use your powers offensively bub.” There was a crackle as he cut the feed. You glared up at him through furrowed brows. Sensing a rock hurtling in your direction you effortlessly formed a shield which caused the boulder to break on impact. The pieces falling to the ground as they broke.

“This is stupid!” You yelled as you lowered the shield again. Logan continued to look down at you, his eyes never left yours as he pressed another button. Suddenly another door opened where two more Sentinels were revealed and immediately fired on you. Quickly you moved and ducked behind a fallen metal beam before you threw a bubble shield over yourself. Adrenaline pumped rapidly through your bloodstream at an alarming rate as you assessed the situation. Not even Scott could take down three of those robots by himself. It no longer felt like training, it was beginning to feel like a murder attempt.

“What do you think you're doing?!” You yelled once again to Logan. Not paying much attention, the Sentinels had made their way behind you to rip the beam away from you. With a petrified look plastered on your face you quickly dissolved the shield and began to run.

“I’m pushing you. If you're not going to use your powers willingly I’ll force them out of you.” Logan informed you over the loudspeaker. Panic started to build in your chest at the realization that the only way out was to completely destroy the Sentinels.

“Fuck you!” You managed to retort before your foot caught on a rock, causing you to trip and land face first into a concrete slab. Tears welled up in your eyes from the impact to your nose, the feeling of blood started to run from it. Not paying enough attention to your surroundings, a metal hand quickly gripped your body in a firm hold, the air forced out of your lungs.

The panic returned, the focus no longer on your bloody nose or the bruise blooming on your check. The instinct to survive kicked in with a flash. The air particles around you were no longer being used to form shields and were instead large spears that forced their way through the metal of each robot.

The hand of the one holding you captive was the first to receive retribution. A spear going through its wrist to release you from its bonds. Before quickly receiving another that pierced through the cranium and the chest, pinning the robot to the floor. You formed a disk to stand on as the Sentinel released you. Your eyes glowing slightly with the color of your powers.

The other two metal beasts soon received similar treatment as the first. One got a spear that penetrated through both thighs and finished off with another piercing through the center of the chest all the way up through the skull. As for the final one the finishing blow was a spear that went from the crown of the head and through its torso which staked it to the ground.

With all three Sentinels dead you lowered yourself back to the ground, firmly planting your feet as the simulation faded away. Leaving behind only yourself and the slain robots. The Training room doors opened behind you but you paid them no attention. Instead looking at the metal bodies that remained before you. Each one contorted in a way that made them seem almost angelic. The spears in their bodies still glowed as your shields often did. With a quick wave of your hand the spears vanished and the hunks of metal collapsed to the ground.

“Well that’s one way to do it.” Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts which brought you back to the fact he was the reason this happened. A short sword quickly formed in your hand as you swung around. The tip of the blade resting at his collar bone. Your breathing still heavy as you glared daggers into him. Your nose was slowly still bleeding and the swelling in your check was getting worse. Normally you would’ve focused on healing yourself by now but your anger had gotten the better of you.

“You could’ve killed me.” You said, pushing the blade harder against his skin. He never flinched, simply keeping his eyes locked on yours. His eyebrow rose as he took you in.

“But I didn’t. Next time-“ he began, but you quickly cut him off. Whipping around and nicking his skin with the blade as you moved it further up to rest under his chin. If looks could kill, Logan would be on the floor stone cold dead.

“There isn’t going to be a next time.” You informed him. There was a cough from the door which you instantly knew who from. You lowered the sword and looked over to the door where you found Charles approaching in his wheelchair.

“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way my dear.” He said calmly, trying to get your perspective to turn positive. That was fairly hard to do when all you could think about was your potential death.

“And how should I look at it?” You bit back, frustration starting to bubble into your bloodstream. “This time around I stayed in control. I knew my environment and knew what would happen if I let loose. Out there in the real world I’m not able to do that.” Your voice grew harsh but it was the only thing holding back the tears that wanted to form.

“In the field I’m not always able to kill the bad guy. So what happens if I do, huh? More Mutants get slaughtered because of my negligence? This is why I always stayed on the side lines.” The sword you once held dissipated into the art as your hands began to shake. You hated losing your composure and sought to gain it back. With a deep inhale you ran your hand over your face. The stinging from the bruise grounding you back in reality.

You knew what Charles was doing was for your benefit. The fact of the matter however was that you had fought for years to stay out of the line of fire. Your powers could be of great use of course, but the bad guys were always the ones looking to use them. Being at the institut was the only way you could insure your safety. So Charles deciding to go against what you had fought so hard to keep was almost insulting.

“Charles, I think she’s right. I pushed her too far. She made great progress today so we should just leave it at that.” Wolverine placed a hand on your shoulder as he spoke to the professor. He’s thumb lightly stroking over your costume. Looking at him you saw the knick from the sword had already healed over as Logan drew closer to you.

The Professor hummed in agreement, quickly realizing that perhaps he was too hard on you. “Very well. Perhaps I did go a bit far today. Please accept my apology as I was only trying to improve your abilities.”

“You’re forgiven.” The words fell from your mouth before you could register your thoughts. The pain in your cheek had become too much for you to think straight.

It hadn’t taken Charles long to notice your discomfort, quickly instructing Logan to take care of you and while Hank fixed up the training Sentinels. You walked with Logan to the infirmary in complete silence. Taking time to focus on your cheek in order to heal the bruise that had formed. Your nose had stopped bleeding at that point but the blood still remained caked to your face.

Once in the infirmary, you made your way over to the sink and grabbed a rag off the top of the pile. Being the school nurse and team medic, you knew where everything was in the room. As the water grew hot you took the cloth and held it to your face to rehydrate the dried blood.

“Sorry for being so rough on you. It was at the professor's request.” Logan leaned his back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Still holding the rag to your face, you side eyed him. Keeping quiet in favor of reserving your dignity.

Blood now soaked into the rag you finished cleaning up before finally drying your face. Logan never stopped watching you as you worked, cloth finding its way to the hazard bin while you sanitized the rest of the area. You were trying your best to ignore him since the incident from mere moments ago. The thought of him potentially killing you still on your mind.

“Can you quit staring?” You growled before turning to exit the room. With everything sterilized you were able to leave to rest up in your room. Logan continued to follow you through the halls and back up to the main floor. The further he followed you the more aggravated you got. You kept your expressions calm however as you passed students in the hallways.

Many of them greeted you with a smile which was quickly returned. A few older students waved at Logan who loomed over you but most were intimidated by him so didn’t dare look in your direction. It didn’t take long before you were back at your room, Logan still hot on your heels.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Logan.” You finally snapped at him, whipping around to plant your finger into his chest. His expression was unreadable, void of any detectable emotion. Not even his signature scowl was to be seen.

“I know that.” He said with just as little emotion that was on his face. It almost made you feel bad for being so mean spirited towards him.

Almost.

“Then you can quit following me. Charles may have asked you to watch me, but I’m telling you I’m fine on my own.” You poked his chest again before crossing your arms and straightening your back. His gaze was already fixed on you as you glared up at him.

“I’m not here because of him.” He informed you while crossing his own arms. His eyes never left yours as he stared down at you.

“Then why? Feeling bad for nearly killing me.” Quirking an eyebrow you proceeded to grill him. You were simply trying to get under his skin. However your worlds twisted the knife you didn’t know was already planted in him. His brows furrowed slightly but his eyes held an underlying emotion you couldn’t pick out just yet.

“Yes.” He simply replied. It caught you completely off guard. Your stance softened before you averted your gaze to the ground. That wasn’t what you were expecting so a response was lost to you. Guilt twisting your stomach as you tried to find a way to resolve the situation. With a sigh you lowered your arms and reached for the door handle to your room.

“Want to watch a movie with me? I wouldn’t mind your company.” You offered before twisting the knob and letting the door swing open. Logan relaxed a little at your offer, a soft smile adorning his face.

“Sure. Just try to avoid a musical.” He said, you smiled up at him before spinning on your heels to enter your room. He followed close behind as you gave a half hearted pout at his disdain for musicals.

“Oh you’re no fun.” You said before walking over to the night stand to flick on the lamp. Logan proceeded to shut the door behind him as you walked around the room to turn on a few more light sources.

“Why not use the overhead light?” He asked from his spot at the door. A laugh left you as you turned to him, now having made your way to the TV stand.

“I like this atmosphere better. Got a problem with that?” Picking up the remotes you turned on the DVD player along with the TV before setting the remotes back on the coffee table in front of the loveseat.

“Not at all. Seems far cozier.” Logan admitted as he moved over to where you stood. Leaning down you opened the entertainment center to reveal all the movies you owned. The collection was extensive due to your many years of living and broad taste in films.

“I need to change out of this suit. Pick a movie while I change.” You instructed before moving over to your dresser on the opposite side of the room. It was placed beside the bathroom door which you were lucky to have. Being as you were a permanent resident of the school your room had its perks.

“Yes Ma’am.” Logan said with a bet of sarcasm as he knelt down to examine the cases that laid before him. He was even a bet taken aback by the stockpile you had.

“Do you want a change of clothes? I might have some oversized sweatpants to fit you.” You made the offer as you rummaged through your clothes. Logan was in his usual jeans and white wife beater combo but figured it polite to ask if he wanted to change too.

“I’m alright, bub. Go change while I find a movie.” He waved a hand over the couch as his focus stayed on the film titles. You nodded to yourself while grabbing a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a blue tee, quickly walking into the bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to change but you did take a minute to look over yourself. Ensuring that there weren’t any more major bruises or cuts left over from training.

There weren’t any that were of great concern so you walked back into your living space to rejoin Logan. He was lounging on the love seat with an arm draped over the back of the couch. His feet were propped up on the table which you would have to get on him for later, but what caught your attention the most was the movie he chose.

“Hacksaw Ridge, really?” You asked with a skeptical tone of voice. Of all the movies he could’ve chosen you hadn’t expected it to be that one. Sure you know he preferred historical based media but it still came as a shock. Especially since you had many other, and bloodier, historical films.

“Yeah. It was in your collection.” He stated the obvious as you began to walk over to him. You scoffed at his remark.

“Well if I start crying you’re not allowed to judge me.” A chuckle came from Logan for your remark as you marched forward. Quickly grabbing a throw blanket off your bed before curling up on the couch next to Logan. You avoided leaning into him but when he grabbed your shoulder and tugged you into his side there was no protesting.

His smell flooded your senses as you laid there. The bitter smell of his cigars and lingering scent of pine always brought comfort. As much as you wanted to hold a grudge against him for the training, you couldn’t.

“I won’t judge you.” Logan paused for a moment before pressing play on the movie. “At least not too much.” He added while he looked down at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you looked back at him. The two of you laughed lightly before quieting down for the film. Your head rested on his shoulder as it began. It didn’t take long before your eyes began to drift shut and you eased off to sleep.

[shuttlecarrier]

some concepts that have been plinking around in my mind.. assortment of some handmade toys from the geoling homeplanet and a child begging their older sibling to let them play with their collection of Annu. optional loredump info about this stuff under the cut ->

since geoling kids take a long time to grow up (they're considered an adult at 22-25 years old), they need a lot of attention and activity during that time period. they would be hell for a human to raise but visually very cute, they're babies that come up to you and babble meaninglessly one moment and then trying to bite and nip at you the next.

they are still quite small at this young age though, so one of the main toys they're given is Kcheha variants. they're stuffed animals constructed from fabric, furs, animal glue, clay (or bone), thread, and nontoxic paints- and come as either an upright plush or something large and floppy.

the more upright kind are more for playing with and being dragged around. they're made durable enough to withstand being chewed on by a child, since babies like to investigate and play with things with their mouth where a large portion of their sensory organs (those whiskers they have especially!) are located near. the floppier kcheha variant are larger usually weighted with fine sand or beads. these are softer and made for sleeping with. normally geolings sleep in large piles containing several members of their familial group, but young children are at risk of being injured by an adult rolling on top of them in this situation, so kids either sleep in their own pile nearby or are kept by themselves in a comfy mountain of floppy toys that simulates typical sleeping circumstances. upright kcheha are typically fashioned after bugs, fish, or other animals and floppy kcheha are often made to resemble geolings. the one in the image was designed to look like one of Wyu'hlkee's remaining island giants, a relatively peaceful animal that digs for tubers, shellfish, and large grubs.

eventually when kids reach their teens and lose their baby stripes or just when they get big enough, they get Annu toys. these are filled with sand and constructed with several layers of a plant derived burlap-like fabrics and a twine made from similar stuff, and come in natural shades of light red to deep purple. they are easy to make and survive wear and tear easily, which is good considering how high energy and more aggressive teenagers are. grabbing a sand filled toy and smacking it against walls (fun and satisfying) or trying to hit a sibling or cousin with it as hard as possible is extremely common (and so is the related: hitting your cousin so hard with a toy they start wailing and you beg them not to tell on you).

however since almost all annu are sand based they have some consequences if torn apart or broken. for geolings, sand has some particular spiritual significance in several of their cultures, and there are superstitions or beliefs that when you fill a toy with sand it invites passed on creatures to live in the constructed body. if you destroy it and the sand falls out you're expected to apologize for it and fix it. they are expected to get damaged though and it's good for teaching repair skills and restraint. most of these toys have the marks of being patched up from years of being thrown around and accidentally shredded. most annu are like big sand filled socks. fashioning them into the form of snake and worm creatures is pretty common. the ones depicted here have the popular look of the geolings 'sea dragons' which are giant worm-eel things that live in the oceans. dragons have been and remain as a very cool thing.

lastly for these Glass Based figurines are usually only for special occasions and given as gifts on holidays. those living on the islands and coasts make elaborate displays with them and enjoy collecting them. they're not great toys if they're more elaborate but smaller more blob looking ones are good for playing certain games with.

they have other more complex types of toys but I only drew a few for this because artfight is coming up and time to draw personal stuff is little. o7

[zerbu]

The Sims 4 Mod: Spawn Refresh

This mod completely overhauls how venue spawning works in The Sims 4, allowing for fully-staffed, multi-purpose lots!

How it works

With Spawn Refresh, most spawns are no longer tied to the lot type, but are instead based on the objects on the lot. Not only will all bars, stalls, etc. be fully staffed, but the objects also impact the types of visitors that spawn and how many. For example, a lot with gym equipment will attract Sims who like to workout, and a lot with many barstools and a few (but not many) bookshelves will attract a lot of barflies, but only a few readers.

Both staff and visitors will spawn on the following lot types:

Arts Center

Bar

Beach

Cafe

Gym

Karaoke Bar

Library

Lounge

Museum

Nightclub

Onsen Bathhouse

Park

Pool

Spa

Retail (not owned by the active household)

Resaurant (not owned by the active household)

Thrift and Bubble Tea Store

Additionally, the following lot types will spawn extra staff, but the visitors will stay the same:

Foxbury Commons

Recreation Center

UBrite Commons

New Lot Type: Rental (Shared)

Spawn Refresh also adds a new lot type to the game called Rental (Shared). This is a Rental lot that spawns Sims like a public venue. It can be used to simulate hotels and other accomodations for storytelling.

You will need a venue mod like Venue Changes for this to be available in Build Mode.

Limitations/where lot type still matters

Although this mod blurs the importance of lot types, they still matter in some cases.

Bowling events and spa classes are only available on venues they were available on previously. This may change in the future, but wasn't a focus for the first version.

You cannot combine multiple types of businesses. Although the mod will spawn Sims on businesses not owned by the active household, the "main" type still has to be set to the business type.

Events like bar nights and karaoke contests are still limited by venue type.

To prevent bar nights from breaking, barflies in Bar venues will spawn the same way they would without the mod.

Parks are the only lot type that will spawn bench sleepers.

Beaches and pools are the only lot types that will spawn swimmers, and will do so using the same logic it would without the mod. This doesn't mean Sims on other lots can't swim, it just means they won't spawn Sims specifically for that purpose.

For roles that have variants that normally spawn on multiple venues (for example: bartenders and barflies can normally spawn on Bars, Lounges, Nightclubs and Karaoke Bars), the mod will use the same variant as in the vanilla game, although it can still spawn multiple of them.

Only Museums and Arts Centers spawn visitors specifically to view art, since you probably don't want a bunch of random Sims showing up just to look at decorations on other lots.

Conflicts

This mod will conflict with any mod that modifies the "Zone Director" files for venue spawns. It should work fine with mods that limit Sims to their home world, since those don't edit the Zone Directors.

Download

Download Spawn Refresh

[liketwoswansinbalance]

On the Subject of "All-Kinds-of-Fur:"

Link to the original Brothers Grimm fairy tale for reference. It's basically a variant of "Cinderella."

Also, if I have the inspiration for it, this could become part of a series, set during the peaceful days before the prequel events. Thus, if anyone would like to send in a request for the School Master brothers' reactions to a classic fairy tale or an SGE one, however obscure it may be, I might write it!

⸻

[Rhian enters the tower chamber looking distressed while Rafal is grading fourth-year students' theses on treachery, taboos, and the natural lines of family, that, when wrongly crossed, drive people insane and disrupt the fragile human psyche.

For an example of this so-called phenomenon (stolen from the plot of Hamlet), imagine a scenario as follows: a wife marries her husband's brother after her husband dies. While they may not be blood relations, this scenario is still off and rather strange, even if modern times could make more allowances for such a thing to occur and be socially-acceptable.]

Rhian: My fourth-year Class Captain had to run away whilst on her questing assignment!

Rafal: [absently, without looking up from the papers, slashing through lines in bloodred ink] Mm, shame. [He sips his tea.]

Rhian: [tries to smile but it looks uneasy and he begins to pace with anxiety.] No! It's... good... I suppose. [He cringes.] If she hadn't run into the Woods last night, she would've had to marry her father!

Rafal: [spits out his tea.] Who's her father? Not one of my graduates, surely. Even my curriculum standards rise above that, that rot.

Rhian: No, it's not one of yours. Simply some brazen king. I just... I wish I could do something. She was one of my best students. [He sighs dejectedly.] But I doubt the Pen will tolerate an intervention. We just have to let her tale play out.

Rafal: Well, is it worth working yourself up over? She got away. Maybe it's you who's too invested in your students’ lives. They can fend for themselves, you know... well, probably. Actually, some Evergirls can be dimwitted. [He pauses.] How about this?: you always have the option of throwing her a lovely funeral.

Rhian: Oh, forget it. I don’t expect you to understand. [He throws up his arms, flustered, and exits the room.]

[Rafal observes that his brother still looks rather sad. In fact, Rhian grows more worried with each passing day as the Storian writes of the poor girl's travails as a forlorn scullery maid in hiding.]

⸻

[Several months later, three days and three nights after each night of the ball and banquet in the Evergirl's fairy tale:]

Rhian: [elatedly, swelling with hope] Rafal! Rafal! Have you heard? My Class Captain might live to see her Happily Ever After! The young king is going to save her! She’s danced with him three nights in a row and he would take no other partner. Though, each night, she slips away and conceals herself in that hideous, asymmetrical coat. You've seen the Pen's illustrations, haven't you? And last night, she wore a dress that glistened like the stars! I just knew the Beautification Practice While Impoverished classroom simulations would pay off! I knew it! It's the sheer magic of what a little soap and water can achieve!

Rafal: [not listening to Rhian's enthusiastic raving] Uh-huh.

Rhian: [finally looks at Rafal more closely after his lackluster response.] Say, Rafal? Where did that patchwork blanket come from? Is it new? I feel like I’ve seen it before. Somewhere... [he muses.]

Rafal: [shrugs without looking up from his book.] Nowhere. You’re not still… sad about that tale, are you? It’s old news. And the Storian's been still about that tale for a good few hours. Maybe it'll be scrapped, storybook and all.

Rhian: [grits his teeth in frustration] Yes. I know. You weren't listening.

Rafal: [expressionlessly] Wasn't I? Regardless, Happily Ever Afters don't concern me.

Rhian: [tongue-tied, attempting to come up with a fitting retort] An-and, you need a good douse of soap and water too. You've got... soot and—is that walnut oil all over your hands?

Rafal: [rolls his eyes.]

⸻

[The next day:]

[Rhian devours the completed tale in one sitting and notices a discrepancy he assumes is a continuity error by the Storian: the vagabond princess disguised in the role of a scullery maid returned to her little cubbyhole below stairs to find that her coat, which she’d left in the shadows, had disappeared, seemingly stolen.

Perhaps, a creature of the night had made off with it, desperate to reclaim its skin.

Or perhaps, there had been an intervention.

Thus, the princess was forced to show her true, shining self to the king’s men hunting her down. In her gown, that gleamed like the stars, much like a bride's.

And Rhian has a feeling he knows why this Ending came to be.]

⸻

[A week later:]

Rhian: [enters, humming about wedding bells to himself.]

Rafal: You look well. Did something go right?

Rhian: Yes! Something nice came in the post today, brother. My former student and the young, foreign king have invited us to their wedding. And look! Even you got an invitation, too. [He laughs to himself and makes a face of mock fright, lowering his voice and gnarling his hands into claws.] Whooo, they probably didn't want the Evil brother to curse them during a christening someday, so you'll probably get a golden plate and sweetmeats to spare at the wedding feast in order to "appease" you.

Rafal: [glares at him.]

Rhian: [drops the act.] Ahem. Anyway, we’ve got to pack for spring in Altazarra. Bring some non-black, festive clothes, if you have any. Oh, and bring a less ugly coat than that scruffy old blanket, will you?

Rafal: I’m not attending. I don’t like inane balls or sentimental Ever Afters, but have fun.

Rhian: Are you sure about that?

Rafal: Positively.

Rhian: [holds up an illustration of the princess' cubbyhole from the tale he’s been scrutinizing for the last few days.] Then what’s this shadow the Storian’s inked in darker than the rest? It looks quite a lot like a human form.

Rafal: Trick of the light. Just be glad Evil didn’t prevail this time, and call it a day. My side will win next time to be sure.

Rhian: [smirks knowingly] I guess I owe my peace of mind and sanity to a thief then.

Rafal: [deadpans] Run along, Ever. Pip-pip. You've got a wedding to attend, have you not?

[yumisilver]

Nine-Tailed Travel Guide through the Multiverse Event!:

Into the Sonicverse

As it has come to be expected, it didn’t take long for Nine to run into this universe's version of Sonic. What caught him off guard, however, was that this Sonic RECOGNIZED him almost immediately. “Did I accidentally backtrack to a universe I’ve already been to? No, that’s highly unlikely (infinite universes and all that).”

 It didn’t take much longer for Nine to realize which Sonic this is; this must be the Sonic he met in the Shatterverse event!

Nine was astonished; he never thought he’d see his friend again after the universe was put back together. 

Once they separated, Sonic asked how the heck he was there. “Oh no--did Tails accidentally touch the prism?? Nine, have you seen any other versions of yourself around here??!” 

Nine tells Sonic to relax, and explains how he came here on his own, and his overall objective. Sonic seems relieved by this answer, and invites Nine to hang out at his home until he’s ready to go. Nine agrees. 

While walking Sonic tells Nine about what’s been happening since they saved the universe, and his current “predicament”.  At some point, Sonic met up with Shadow to discuss what to do with the Paradox Prism, like where the best place to hide it might be. During their conversation, Sonic got a bit too close to the prism, and it tried to pull him in (like how the individual shards did). Shadow managed to pull him out before it completely absorbed him, but the prism disappeared right after. Since then, Shadow has gone looking for it. Apparently Sonic coming into contact with the prism has some…unintended effects. 

They finally reach Tails’ workshop, and upon entry, Nine quickly realizes there are 

not one,

not two,

but THREE other Sonic’s sitting around and chatting (one of them was dangling from the rafters when they walked in)

“Everybody, this is my friend Nine from New Yoke City! Nine, this is Dash, Flow, and Tumble the Hedgehogs!” 

According to Sonic, these variants of him appeared around Green Hill shortly after the prism tried to absorb him. 

This is how he says he met them:

Tumble: They, quite literally, ran into each other.

Flow: Found by Amy and Rouge on the beach, seemingly having wiped out on his board. 

Dash: Found by Knuckles, who Dash started trying to fight immediately. He did the same when Sonic arrived. Apparently he thought he was in a simulation set up by the "Chaos Council". 

They aren’t sure why, but when Sonic touched the prism, it pulled the others from their prime universes to Green Hill, that was about a month ago. As of now everyone is trying to find a way to get the three hedgehogs home. 

At first, Nine isn’t sure how he feels being around four Sonic’s at the same time, but Sonic himself convinces him to give it a chance. If anything, his knowledge of dimensional travel could be really helpful to them, and…Sonic thought it would be nice to spend time with him again. 

At that, Nine concedes to stay, but only for a little while. Sonic is over the moon about it. 

Nine figured he would take some time to see what each of these Sonic variants were like, at least to some degree.

Tumble the Hedgehog

Original Dimension: Boscage Maze

Nine found Tumble to be very, VERY energetic, somehow more than Sonic himself. He never sits in one place for long, practically bouncing off the walls. His speaking is a bit broken, but he communicates just fine (apparently his first language is “canine”). He spoke a lot about his little brother Mangy, who he’d spend the most time playing with back home. His favorite game to play, Nine discovers, is a game he created called “Tumble Tag”. Similar to regular tag, someone is called “it” and their job is to chase down the other players. The only major differences in Tumble’s version being;

Tumble is ALWAYS it 

Whenever Tumble catches you, he gives you a 30 second head start to get away again

You don’t get to decide when you start playing, you don’t get to decide when you STOP playing 

Nine was forced to play with him for about 45 minutes before Sonic was finally able to distract Tumble long enough for Nine to get away. 

Honestly Tumble wasn’t AWFUL, he was just a lot. 

Flow the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: No Place

Any time Nine spent one-on-one with Flow was filled with Flow’s seemingly endless stories and tales about his life on the high seas. Going on adventures, meeting his crew, fighting sea beasts, exploring the vast oceans….yeah he talked a lot. One of the few things Nine was actually a little interested in hearing about was his surfboard; It had a rudder with a gyroscope built into the underside of the board, which allowed Flow to control where his board goes via his center gravity. 

Upon asking, Flow went into a long story about how he’s the crews lookout, meaning he spent most of his time in the crows nest. But being such a high energy person, being confined to such a small place for so long was stifling, to the point even running laps around the ship wasn’t enough to settle him, and it was annoying the crew too. Luckily, his buddy Sails had the bright idea to upgrade Flow’s board so it doesn’t need waves to move through the water. Flow seemed ecstatic to talk about this, singing praises about his companion for HOURS. 

Nine decided asking wasn’t worth it in the end. 

Dash the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: New Yoke City

Nine couldn’t help feeling a bit bitter upon learning Dash was from his home dimension, as he never got to have his own Sonic like most of his own multiversal counterparts. Upon questioning, it turns out Dash had initially fled Green Hill when the Chaos Council invaded, and only returned several years later to help the rebellion. Nine wondered if they would’ve found each other at some point if he hadn’t left so soon, but didn’t linger on the topic long.

Much to Sonic’s disappointment, Dash and Nine didn’t speak much to each other for the majority of Nine’s stay, as they had no real interest in getting to know each other, there was no point. 

Miles “Tails” Prower 

Original Dimension: Green Hill

Nine found this version of himself to be tolerable. He had a lot of questions, of course, he and his counterparts were all equally inquisitive. Tails was working on helping the Sonic counterparts return to their home dimensions, and so asked Nine lots of questions related to the topic. Nine unfortunately hadn’t mastered travel between SPECIFIC universes without the Paradox prism, so all he could provide was what little knowledge he had gained about multiverse travel and the prism itself. 

Tails also gave Nine a bag of mint candy to snack on, so that was a bonus. 

Sonic the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: Green Hill

Nine found being able to spend time with Sonic without the constant threat of danger to be pleasant. Sonic spent a lot of time telling Nine all about his friends, what they like, what they don’t like, and how they differ from their multidimensional counterparts. He didn't linger on himself long, and was instead more curious to hear about Nine and his multidimensional adventures, so Nine obliged in telling him about the all the universes he had seen up until that point. 

Seeing how engaged Sonic was in his stories was also really encouraging. 

Overall, Nine enjoyed any time he got to spend with Sonic one-on-one. 

Something everyone seemed to neglect informing Nine about before nightfall was a certain ahem “condition” that Tumble has. According to Sonic, Tumble had informed all of them that he was born this way, and it only happens every couple of weeks after sundown (Tumble had assumed all his counterparts had this ability, which is why he didn't say anything straight away). While in what they call his “hedgewolf” state, Tumble becomes completely nonverbal and just a bit more feral. While still in his right mind, he seems a bit more influenced by his instincts while in this form. 

Tumble Tag becomes significantly more anxiety inducing when being chased by a hedge-beast double your size while also under the cover of night. 

Nine slept in late the next morning.

[Nine's personal log] - “From what I’ve been able to observe during my stay, dimension 6U441-/U441 has an overall stable environment and it’s ecosystem is decent. My radar did detect some minor anomaly, but I was unable to pinpoint a location. I let Sonic know regardless.  Population in this dimension is overall decent, aside from the ‘anomalies’ currently present due to the Paradox Prism." 

"While I find this dimension is decent overall and I wouldn’t mind being in Sonic’s presence more often, I’m not comfortable staying long term as the presence of my counterpart makes me feel... invasive. I'm sure Sonic would have a fit if I admitted that to him, so I’ll keep that to myself."

"I’ll stay until I’m positive the group is able to handle this “situation” of theirs on their own. I have no real obligation to stay, but I don’t mind hanging around for a bit." 

Eventually, Nine decides he’s ready to move on to the next dimension. Tails thanks him for all his help, Tumble tries to play with him one last time, and Flow holds Tumble back for Nine’s sake. Sonic is a bit disappointed, but he still wishes him the best. Dash and Nine don’t exchange words. 

Nine opens the next portal, but before he can go through, Sonic embraces Nine one last time. “You know, once you’re all settled wherever you end up...we wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to try visiting us again. ” 

Nine smiles a bit, and ensures he’ll see what he can do. 

As he steps through the portal, all he hears is the voices of the group, wishing him safe travels. The portal closes behind him, and Nine continues on his journey. 

Dimension: 6U441-/U441

Time Spent: 2 1/2 weeks

Overall Rating: 7/10

“It was good to see an old friend, kind of wish it was ONLY him though.”

What awaits Nine on the other side of the next portal? Check 

#Nine-Tailed Travel Guide through the Multiverse to find out! 

[pookiebeary]

Go Little Spider

Spiderperson! Reader in Gotham

Gn!Reader x Batfam(?)

Heavily inspired by "Peter the Pizza Guy" and "Dark Matter" in AO3

ATSV spider-reader

Part 1 | Next

You're Spider-Kid, sidekick and protégé of the late amazing Spider-Man. It didn't take long before Miguel O'hara and his band of spiderpeople recruited you in their little elite force after you took the mantle of your late mentor.

It also didn't take long for you to realize how despite the so-called elite force consisting of all the other variants of your late mentor- they all seemed to fail at being the one thing they claimed to be. They all failed the one golden rule Spider-Man lived by. You couldn't believe your ears when you heard about the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse and canon events. Allowing some people to die because that's their fate? That was some messed up shit. You couldn't sit by idly knowing their destiny was to die, so you did what your Spider-Man would've done; you broke the canon.

Well, more like tried to.

You had planned to save the Gwen Stacy of this universe (because you're not going to let another version of your mentor go through the pain he did), but of course you were caught before you could save her from the fall. A great force tackled you and broke your grip as you climbed the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The sweet and tangy smell of iron fills your mouth when you're thrown from the tower and far off against the incoming metro. A pained groan escapes your lips upon impact and you feel an unbearable ache on your chest when you try to get up. You take your ripped mask off for a breather and spit out the blood from your chapped lips. You manage to sit up after gritting through the pain- you've been through worse, you mutter to yourself.

"Stop whatever you're trying to do, kid. You can't risk breaking the canon." You heard the familiar and condescending voice of Miguel warning you, but his words only further infuriated you.

A look of disbelief flashes over you and you feel your anger getting the better of you,"You're telling me… that I'm just supposed to let them die because that's their fate? How could you..?"

" HOW COULD ALL OF YOU?!" You bark at the other spiderpeople in the surrounding.

" And we're supposed to be the good guys?! Spider-Man would never let someone die just because that's their fate!!" You let out a faint sardonic laugh, "If this is what it means to be Spider-man, then I want out. "

The other Spider-people, the other versions of the Peter you know tenses at your words; you're going rogue. You narrow your eyes at them, they look like a younger version of Peter you know but they could never live up to yours.

"It's not like that, kiddo," You hear one of them tell you in a disappointed tone.

You couldn't believe that all of them gave in so easily as you gave them an even more menacing glare, "So all of you are fine with letting innocent people die because that's their fate? Because some fucking simulation said so?! You're all fine with that??"

They all shuffled and looked at each other as if they've only just started thinking that maybe- maybe they were wrong. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under with the way Miguel looks at you but you could say the same for him. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under too.

As the group of spiderpeople seemed to hesitate, you quickly take advantage of this opening to make a run for it before Miguel could bark out another order. You speed along the metro to put some distance between you and your pursuers, bearing through the pain on your legs and chest as you keep running.

"Fine." Miguel gruffly replies, his eyes glaring with a menacing red hue as he starts chasing after you like a feral animal.

Curiously, you took a quick peek behind you and the sight almost made you wet your pants. He looked like he was out for blood with the way he was running on all fours and snarling at you-

Well you weren't wrong. Miguel was out for blood and you found out the hard way when he managed to web you, pulling you backwards as you tumbled from the sudden force. He then grabbed your head and smashed you against the ground mercilessly, leaving a crater in its wake from the sheer force. Blood trickled down your head and nose as you start seeing black spots dance around your vision.

You hear the other Peter speak up to defend you on your behalf as you struggle to get up with ringing ears and a few bones you were sure are broken.

"Go home (Name)." He commands ever so sternly as if he hadn't just incapacitated you. He towers over you as he holds a tight grip on your wrist where your interdimensional watch rests. As he's about to take your watch away, you remember you've tampered with the watch before and set a contingency plan in case this rogue act of yours went wrong. Not that said contingency plan was complete yet but something's better than nothing.

Immediately, you pressed the special switch you've installed in your watch and Miguel's surprise is clear as you start glitching and fading away.

"Fuck you." You spat before kicking him away, taking advantage of his surprise and jumping to the ominously glitching dimensional rift that suddenly appeared behind you.

***