#paths that cross gameplay

[thebeeandtheplumbobs]

And with that we end Milows rotation and give the lovebirds some privacy.

[sundyyle-archived]

The entrance of my normcore island!!

[nordsea-horizons]

slow progress..🌱

[westonsims00]

𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴: 𝘓𝘰𝘶 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘴: 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺: 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘮 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘮 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪: 𝘓𝘰𝘶'𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘒𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘪-𝘕𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯: 𝘓𝘰𝘶'𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘴: 𝘓𝘰𝘶'𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳

[whyeverr]

No need for a resolution to max their Cooking skill next year, we managed to squeeze it in before midnight! And somehow we're halfway through the Gourmet Cooking as well. (Is it just me, or does that one fly by?)

Of course, shortly after crossing the halfway point to someday opening their own restaurant, the official rules were updated to also allow unlocking via completion of the Appliance Whiz aspiration—which seems a lot simpler of a path than maxing 3 cooking skills... Something to consider! 🤔

[gender-euphowrya]

brother a tale of two sons was such a nothingburger game i can't believe it got a remake

[smallmariofindings]

In Super Mario 64, normally, all enemies patrol their respective areas and during regular gameplay, it is rare to see Bob-ombs crossing paths with other enemies. Whenever it happens, it reveals that they are set to explode when any other enemy is near, even if their fuse is not lit and they are merely walking around.

A shell-less Koopa Troopa will run around completely randomly if left alone, and by observing it for a long enough time, it will eventually run into a patrolling Bob-omb, dying as shown in the footage.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: SM64 (NA, N64)

[emberglowfox]

hear me out:

[Unnamed] would be a multiplayer survival horror co-op in which players are tasked with photographing a variety of monsters across various levels. Players earn interest points based on the quality and framing of their photographs, as well as the species and behavior of the monster(s) captured. They must cross a certain threshold of points every cycle, which consists of 3 rounds. This threshold steadily increases in difficulty as the game progresses, and failure to cross results in a game over and a reset.

At the start of the game, up to four players may join a lobby. They are equipped with a basic camera, which has a weak flash and can take 10 photos per round. These cameras can be individually upgraded in exchange for money, which is granted based on how many points the player amasses per round. Money can also be used to purchase one-time-use effect items.

The gameplay loop is as follows: every cycle, players are given a certain value of points to obtain and taken to one of a few different areas, such as an overgrown facility, a tall, foggy city, or a stone maze. Different areas can generate unique monsters and terrain. All 3 rounds will take place in this area, but on separate, randomly generated maps. As the player completes more and more cycles, the levels will get larger and more difficult to navigate.

Each round, players will have a certain amount of time to explore the map and find monsters to photograph. The map will spawn progressively harder and more dangerous monsters as players spend time in it. When players are ready to leave the map and complete the round, they must return to the car they arrived in.

Monsters come in a large variety of shapes and sizes and can have negative, neutral, or positive relationships and interactions with other species. Larger monsters are worth more points, but are often more elusive and aggressive. Photographing monsters will unlock info on them, which can be accessed between rounds.

After a certain amount of cycles has passed, maps will also have an increasing chance to generate Dark Areas. Dark Areas are uniquely dark map sections that spawn rare and dangerous monsters. It's a high risk, high reward area, though players can choose to avoid it if they wish. Only one Dark Area can spawn per round.

If players are killed, they have a small chance of being turned into a Spade, which spawns somewhere random in the map and they then control until the end of the round or upon being killed a second time. Spades are small quadruped monsters that, instead of granting points when photographed, will remove them. They are capable of weak melee attacks similar to the punch, and dragging prone players. Spades cannot communicate verbally with other players, with their voice activity coming out garbled and illegible. Spades do not count as living players, and even if all players in a round are alive as Spades, it will count as a wipe. If the player does not become a Spade, they will simply spectate a living player for the rest of the round.

The cameras of dead players can be collected by living ones to retrieve their photographs, but will take up an inventory slot.

Cameras have a variety of upgrades that players can obtain as they play. These come in the form of basic paths, such as increasing the photo count, camera durability, or flash, or more specific paths that favor more offensive or defensive playstyles, such as night vision or an extremely bright flash that may aggravate monsters.

Players continue amassing points and reaching higher levels until they inevitably fail, at which point the game ends and resets.

[aventurineswife]

So, reader decided to play mouthwashing due to its positive reviews and how it became popular enough to gain fandom. Maybe Ratio, Aventurine, Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, Jing Yuan and Jade decided to watch reader as they play? How would they react to this game's plot, it's characters and opinions?

HSR Characters Reaction On Mouthwashing

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade X Reader, Psychological Horror(not the actual fic but the game), Character Study, Game Reactions, Manipulation, Redemption, Survival, Dark Themes, Self-Destruction, Fractured Minds, Immortality.

Warnings: Strong Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Mental Health Issues, Psychological and Emotional Distress, Dark Themes of Suffering and Redemption, Self-Harm (Implied, Related to Destruction and Pain), Death and Death Imagery.

A/N: I haven't fully watched the whole gameplay, so this might a bit ooc but I do know some basics of what happened and all I gotta say is: I hate Jimbo‼️🧍‍♀️ also shortened this to three characters because tags won't take the others and I probably would've to write each characters individually for their reactions on each characters so sorry if this disappoints you :')

Kafka lounged gracefully on a velvet chair, her fingers tracing the rim of a crystal goblet filled with a dark, undisturbed liquid. The soft glow of the screen reflected off her red wine-colored hair as she observed the game unfolding before her. Mouthwashing, a psychological horror game that had garnered significant attention, was the latest entertainment distraction.

The game's plot piqued her interest immediately—stranded in space with dwindling supplies, a mutilated captain, and a fractured crew. Kafka found the dynamics between the characters fascinating. The tension, the fractured relationships, and the slow unraveling of sanity… it was like watching a perfectly woven web fall apart. She couldn’t help but admire how the developers had manipulated the player into becoming complicit in the escalating violence.

Her eyes narrowed at the unraveling storylines. "So, it’s a game of power and survival," she mused, sipping from her glass. "But with a touch of madness, I wonder if the creators intended to turn the player into the true villain. The emotions on display—guilt, betrayal, desperation—can only lead to one outcome: unraveling."

Kafka's attention shifted to the player’s choices. The tension between the crew members, the twisted relationships, and the manipulation—it felt familiar. She was a master of persuasion, a manipulator of emotions, but this game was something different. It made her wonder how the player would handle the sense of culpability for the crew’s inevitable downfall.

"I suppose," she mused, "this is what makes games like this addictive—the slow collapse, the control one has over others... It’s almost poetic, in a sense." She couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen as the final moments played out. Jimmy’s tragic end, believing he had redeemed himself by placing Curly in the cryopod, was something Kafka could relate to—a misguided belief in redemption after irreversible actions.

Turning her attention back to her glass, she smiled softly. "I would have handled it differently, of course. But I suppose that’s the beauty of these games—they allow us to explore paths we’d never dare take in reality."

Silver Wolf sat cross-legged on a low sofa, her sharp gaze fixed on the screen as the game's opening scene began. Her fingers twitched in a restless, almost instinctive motion—an impulse to hack, to break the system and rewrite the story as she often did. But she forced herself to focus, her curiosity about the game's mechanics outweighing her usual inclination to manipulate.

The dark and gritty atmosphere of Mouthwashing quickly drew her in. The world-building was minimal, but what Silver Wolf found compelling was how the game subtly forced players into moral corners with each choice. The crew’s personalities were rich with flaws, and the tension between them was palpable. Her fingers flexed, itching to dive deeper into the psychological undercurrents, analyzing each interaction like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"Not bad," Silver Wolf muttered, studying the way the plot twisted and turned with each new revelation. The complexity of the relationships, particularly Jimmy's unraveling sanity, fascinated her. "It’s like hacking a system, but instead of codes, it’s the characters' minds. The more you understand them, the more control you have over the outcome."

She watched intently as the player made choices, her eyes narrowing when the characters’ fates grew darker. “Hmph, some people just can't handle the game. They don’t see the bigger picture. It’s all about the challenge, about beating the odds. It’s not just survival—it’s about making it through with your mind intact. The chaos is part of the fun.”

Silver Wolf tilted her head as she saw Jimmy make his fatal choices, his mental state breaking down under the weight of guilt and fear. "That's one way to go out," she muttered. "Pathetic, really. I would’ve used that moment to break free, to rewrite the whole scenario. But I suppose that's why it's not me playing."

She smirked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Still, I can appreciate the game's challenge. It's not about winning, it's about seeing just how far you can push the boundaries before it all collapses. Just like the game of life." Her fingers idly tapped against her knee. "Maybe I’ll try a new strategy next time."

Blade stood motionless in the shadows, his piercing eyes fixed on the screen as Mouthwashing unfolded before him. The plot resonated in ways that few things did—survival at any cost, fractured relationships, and a constant drive toward self-destruction. His cracked sword, an eternal symbol of his fractured existence, almost felt lighter as he watched the characters’ struggles.

The captain, Curly, with his tragic fate, reminded Blade of his own cursed immortality. Mutilated, unable to speak or act, yet still alive—trapped in a state of perpetual suffering. Blade’s gaze lingered on the screen, his mind replaying his own endless cycle of death and rebirth. He saw in Curly a reflection of his own fate: an unending existence that could only end in violence and ruin.

"What a pitiful display," Blade muttered, his voice low and cold. "Surviving only to slowly lose everything—your sanity, your humanity… That’s what this game is, isn’t it? A slow descent into madness, with no way out."

He watched as the crew's relationships deteriorated, one by one. Jimmy’s spiral into madness, his attempts at redemption, and the eventual tragic end... it all felt too familiar to Blade. "How weak," he whispered, his fingers twitching at his side. "No honor, no purpose. Just mindless survival."

Yet, there was something in Jimmy's desperate final act that resonated with Blade. The desire to find release, to end it all after causing so much destruction. It was the same goal Blade had sought for so long: an end to the suffering, an escape from the endless pain of immortality.

As the game neared its conclusion, Blade’s eyes narrowed. "They think they can redeem themselves," he mused. "But redemption is a lie. There is only the inevitable conclusion—endless destruction." His hand brushed the hilt of his broken sword. "This is the true path. There is no escaping it."

The game ended, and Blade remained silent, his expression unreadable. "A fitting end," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not my end."

[trulyhblue]

Until We Moved Away

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Swedish! Reader

Warnings — fluff, coarse language, childhood friends w/ benefits

A/N — cried maybe three times in the past three hours because I had to rewrite this since it was deleted 🤭 Anyways, enjoy KCC content bc there definitely isn't enough on here!!

_______________________

When you met Kyra, you weren't quite sure what to think of her.

You were a Swedish international and had made your debut from a very young age. You were talented, well known within your country, and made it your life mission to make your family, country, and yourself proud.

You kept to yourself most of the time, choosing to focus on your career and paint a path for your future by working hard and improving on every aspect of your technique, gameplay, and overall performance. You had never played outside of Sweden before, and you were content with your decision. You were privileged enough to live close to home, within driving range, and know your way around. You weren't confused by the language, or troubled by anything in your day-to-day life. You were passionate about your job, you lived football, and you were determined to do anything in your power to win.

When you met Kyra, your mindset seemed to change.

Kyra was from Australia, and the Swedish language was foreign to her. When you first met, the girl complimented your sweater. In return, you told her the Hammarby jersey she was wearing suited her. She sent you a wide, warm smile, and you returned it.

From then on out, your relationship continued to be like that.

Kyra was very charismatic. She often held a lot of energy, and you were fortunate enough to witness it as you grew to know her more. The girl wouldn't know what to do with herself during the long bus and plane journeys, so she decided that talking your ear off was an appropriate solution.

The Australian wasn't very good at planning things, and you quickly realised that you were her guiding hand early on in knowing her. When Kyra didn't have a proper place to stay, she moved in with you permanently, only two weeks in. When Kyra was stuck with understanding your language, you made an effort to try and learn English, just so the familiarity of home would somewhat comfort her.

Kyra experienced homesickness from time to time, which you never really felt before, so you tried your hardest to make her feel at home by buying Australian snacks or making time to research some Australian movies.

When your schedules were empty, on the rare occasion that they were, you made the effort to show her around Sweden, hoping she’d find solace in a foreign country and find similarities between your home and hers.

When the opportunity arose, you managed to find time to get the two of you two plane tickets to Australia. You weren't quite sure how Kyra would react, but grateful was an understatement.

You found yourself falling for the girl in ways you never thought you would. Australia brought something out of the girl. You weren't sure what it was, but a certain aura enclosed her with an entity of warmth, solitude, and contentment. Kyra was in her element, and you felt bad not seeing how being away from home for so long could affect someone as it did to her.

When the World Cup rolled around, you were certain that you were completely and utterly in love with Kyra.

She had asked you on dates before, and you were blind to see them as simply hanging out. It wasn't until you both were due to fly to Australia, ready to prepare with your respected National Teams, that you realised how desperate you were to make that girl yours.

You weren't sure why you didn't just ask then and there, but you had kept the feeling to yourself in case it ruined the relationship you already had.

The two of you would text every night, talking about how it was both your first World Cup and the excitement surrounding it. While you both were relishing the adrenaline of each victory that passed, not realising that the two of you might verse each other.

You were there during the France versus Australia game. You were enamoured by the atmosphere of the crowd, and overwhelmed by the cheers, chants, and excitement around Women’s Football and the impact this tournament has had on the sport as a whole.

You were nervous when Australia lost to England, feeling the weight of your loss against Spain pulling taunt to your heart. You were disappointed in the outcome, not only because you weren't making it to the finals but because you felt like you had let your country down. It was no secret that your contract with Hammarby was ending soon, and no one but you felt as if your performance was costing a renewal.

Kyra had told you a million times how hard you were on yourself, and you always shook it off and told her that it was just passion. You still believed that. You were extremely passionate about everything regarding football. But if Kyra was right about one thing, there was always something more important.

It was clear to everyone in the stadium that both teams were still grieving the loss of the finals. You were exhausted from the games you had played this past month, and fatigue riddled you through the final minute of the Bronze Medal match. You hadn't spoken to Kyra since consoling her after her game against England, knowing that the ambiguity of tonight’s game might tamper with open wounds.

You weren't ready to face the girl after a month of not seeing her. You wanted to hold her, talk to her face-to-face, and tell her how proud you were of all that she has done for her team, her family, and her nation. That girl was all you cared and yearned for. Kyra was this beaming light that you could always confide in, and now that you were competing against her felt like a stab to the chest.

Despite this, you played your heart out. You made sure to keep your defence in the back line strong throughout the ninety minutes, hoping your forwards could break through Australia’s incredible midfield and defence. You were waiting anxiously for the final whistle to blow, relishing the final moments of such a brilliant tournament to be over, hoping the weight of the competition would fall off your chest the moment it was done.

Kyra played her heart out like she always did but with this new-found determination to prove herself. Every tackle, pass and shot was full of purpose and meaning. You watched her effortless talent shine through throughout the match, enamoured by her flawlessness in every aspect that she flaunted.

Your exhaustion sent you to your knees when the referee blew the full-time whistle. You were standing by yourself near the middle of the pitch, burying your face into your hands as they trembled. The adrenaline from the game, and every game you had played that past month, fizzled out from under you. The crowd was drowned out by your heaving breathing. Every muscle in your body ached. You wondered how your family back home was feeling. You wondered whether they were celebrating your third-place win.

Your home, your country, your nation; you hoped and prayed that they were proud of you and your team’s efforts, for you put everything you could into it. You so badly wanted to tell everyone watching that you tried your best.

Your thoughts were flooded into nothing when a soothing hand met the waistband of your shorts. You felt a familiar figure lean into you, the hand moving under your jersey and rubbing comforting circles across your back.

“Always beating me, aren't ‘ya, Älskling?” She muttered, her usual smug tone streaming through. There was no hesitancy in your movements as you sunk into her chest, hugging her chest and sighing as you took in the girl’s familiar scent.

“You played so well, Kyra.” You muttered, your tone much more sincere than hers. “You and the girls deserve the medal more than anyone else.”

“Oh, shush, you're just being modest,” Kyra replied, taking her spare hand and massaging your scalp. “Y’know what I deserve? Some love and affection from you, that's what.”

“What? Is the Kyra Cooney-Cross admitting that she missed me?” You scoffed, nuzzling your face into her neck. She was holding you up by now, keeping your body flush against her own as she rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Go back to being modest.”

You took her words as a sign to prop yourself up, smiling when you caught sight of the flush of her cheeks. “I missed you heaps, if that helps.”

“Oh yeah?” She answered, finding a loose strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. You bit your lip, smiling down to where your bodies entangled.

“What's next?” You asked. It question was ambiguous, but the Australian in front of you seemed to have a grasp of understanding as to what you alluded to.

“Kiss me and find out.”

You didn't have a chance to react, feeling Kyra’s lips push up against your own. Her hand reached your cheek, moving her lips against yours, smirking when you started to reciprocate the action.

You must've stayed like that for a while, since you pulled apart feeling out of breath. The flush on both of your cheeks meant a beat of silence, pulling you into your own little bubble that shielded you away from the stadium full of people.

“Wherever you go, I go,” Kyra stated, letting your thumb run a path over the freckles that covered her nose.

You nodded and smiled, and she did too.

___________________

hammarbyfotball

hammarbyfotball — Girlfriends that move together, stay together 💚🤍

Wishing Y/N and Kyra all the best for their Arsenal journey in North London.

Congratulations Girls 🙌🏼

Comments:

user12 — HELP THEY REALLY EXPOSED THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN THE GOODBYE POST AHAHHAHA

^ wowwoso — they like ‘Not my problem now, BYE’ 😋

yourusername — Will miss you!! Thank you for this opportunity 💚

* liked by hammarbyfotball

Kyracooneyx — admin has no shame lol

^ yourusername — Kyra. Log. Off

^ user78 — HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

wosothings — after that absolute makeout sesh we all saw I think we all saw this coming 😭

^ kxxfan — I'm still in mourning.

^ user77 — no bc why did the camera pan to someone crying to these two shoving their tongues down each others throat I WAS SHOCKED.

y/nkcc — THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT THEY’RE LEAVING???????? i am grieving leave me alone.

matildasswed — admin saw that kiss and thought those two had hard launched.

_______________________

arsenalwfc

arsenalwfc — let's welcome two more gunners to North London!

Hammarby Legends Y/N L/N and Kyra Cooney-Cross sign with us after a masterclass World Cup ahead of the 23/24 season!

___________

Comments:

User22 — THERE IS NO WAY OMGGGG

Stephcatley — welcome girls!!! ❤️

Caitlinfoord — HAHAHA CALLED IT @ mackenziearnold

^ mackenziearnold — shut up.

kccfanx — Hammarby banked after selling these two🥲 just over 700k 💀

^ user90 — they've just lost two of their best players… I think they’ll need all the money they can get in order to replace them.

Bethmead — looking good in red girls 🥰🥰

user34 — both of them joining straight after the world cup kiss???? Coincidence?? I think not 🤭

^ wosox — they really said together forever

yourusername — Thank You ❤️

*liked by arsenalwfc

Hammarbyfotball — congradulations!!!

^ user88 — happy for them BUT IM IN MOURNING

^ user2 — I'm distraught.

kyracooneyx — yeah the Aussie tan @ yourusername

^ caitlinfoord — simp

^ alannakennedy — simp

^ mackenziearnold — simp

^ kyracooneyx — I was talking about mine but ok.

^ wosofan — HAHAHAHAHAHA

user2 — gonna miss them in Sweden

^ IK 😭😭😭

cooneyxfan — are they really soft launching their relationship with a transfer post????

^ kyracooneyx — yes lol.

^ cooneyxfan — AINT NO WAY

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[writingdevil]

Tongues and Teeth (STP)

(This is my first attempt at a Slay the Princess piece because I've been obsessed with it for the last few months. I apologize if it's really bad, or if the characters appear OOC because I haven't watched the gameplay in awhile-I'm trying not to spoil too much for myself because I'm planning on getting the game. Anyways! Enjoy!)

*

Paranoid opened his eyes, chest burning and nerves going haywire, and that was when he realised two things.

One: He had his own body.

Two: He wasn't breathing.

Instantly, he began sucking in as much air as he could, as if he was suddenly going to run out of oxygen at any moment. He couldn't help it though-he wasn't used to keeping himself-Paranoid-alive, he was always good at keeping Him alive, the Decider.

But the Decider had left them. He had left them all for the Princess.

Paranoid bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his wings around him in an attempt to block out all his surroundings, at the daunting woods and that dreaded path.

Too much. Everything was already too much-

"Finally awake,J itters?"

Paranoid froze, fear pinning him to the ground, and he could feel his own heartbeat pounding in his chest now, and then he realised that he wasn't in charge of only breathing anymore-he was in charge of his whole body, and he needed to move.

He scrambled to his feet, head dizzy at all the sensations overwhelming him, and he spun around until he saw the person speaking to him.

It was one of them, one of the pieces of the Decider. He was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, wings splayed out wide, casting him in a dark shadow. Paranoid didn't know which one it was-they had never been bodies before, they had just been voices.

But then the-voice?-started walking towards him, a swagger in his steps, and a familiar smirk on his face that Paranoid knew, that he was certain to be the embodiment of an-

"Opportunist," he said in low tone, taking a step back, even as the other bird just smiled and gave him a mock bow. "Hello to you too, Mr.Paranoia.vI was wondering when you would wake up."

"Why?" he demanded, becoming unnerved with how large the other's wings are, even when he was a few inches shorter than Paranoid. "So that we can find the others-what else is there to do?" Opportunist replied, and that was when Paranoid remembered the situation at hand.

The Decider was gone. The Princess was gone. It's just them now.

He managed to push the panic away long enough to ask, "You haven't seen the others?" Opportunist shook his head, not a feather coming out of place at the action. "Nope. I woke up not too long ago, and then I found you. I was waiting for you to wake up."

"Why?" Paranoid repeated, now wrapping his wings around him for comfort. Opportunist looked surprised for a moment, before motioning towards the path with a wing as he said, "Well, surely the two of working together will be better, yes?"

Yes, but this was Opportunist-the backstabber, the one who was loyal to no one but himself, the one that Paranoid could never trust. He had to have some ulterior motive.

"I don't trust you," Paranoid hissed, crossing his arms, feeling the tips of his claws digging into his arms. What a weird feeling. The cold one must be having a field day with all these new sensations.

Opportunist didn't seem that offended, putting his arms behind his back-what was he hiding- as he said, "Why not? I'm just as worried about the others as you are. Don't you want to find them?"

"Of course I do!" Paranoid snapped, wings and arms snapping out in anger, taking a step forward, and Opportunist didn't even flinch at the sudden movement, only giving him an encouraging smile.

"Right, so the best thing to do is work together-"

"But what I don't get is why you care about the others."

There had to be a reason. Maybe Opportunist had spotted a danger or a Princess up ahead on the path, and was leading Paranoid to use as bait. That made sense. Opportunist just needed him for something, and it was bound to be awful-he was certain it would be.

In his spiral, he almost missed the nervous crack in the other's smile, but he still gave Paranoid a friendly look as he asked, "Why wouldn't I care about our feathery friends? Who knows what they're dealing with right now-"

"Oh piss off with that!" Frustration and fear were twisting in his chest now, and all he could think to do was lash out. "We both know that you don't care about anybody other than yourself. You didn't even trust Him at times. So I can only assume you have something terrible planned for me, so that you can get your way."

Opportunist spread his arms out and made a show of looking around the forest around them, and then bluntly asked, "Where is this danger that I apparently want to put you in?"

"I don't know, but you can't hide behind Him anymore, and there's nothing tying you down, so why are you still here?"

Paranoid panted, the burn in his chest a familiar one, but his throat aching was new. He's done his chant a million times before, and it's never strained him like this ranting had done.

They stared at each other, the silence tense and only making Paranoid believe that the other was contemplating the best lie to tell, until the other sighed, and his shoulders slumped in a way that let Paranoid know that this talk was at least tiring Opportunist out. At least that much was true.

Then, he finally said, "We don't know what's out there for us. We never got to that part. We never thought about what happens after the cabin. I'm not keen on finding out by myself."

"So?"

"So I'd feel safer with a friend by my side."

"Why me?"

"Well, you're one of the useful ones, Jitters."At Paranoid's surprised look, Opportunist rolled his eyes. "What? You think I would be putting in this much effort for Mr.Lovey Dovey or that sad sack of feathers? No. I trust you to have my back. You're the automatic nervous system, after all."

Paranoid wasn't sure that Opportunist trusted anything, but he forced himself not to point that out. He still wasn't convinced, but at least he was telling him something, and that was enough for his wings to lower to the ground.

He took a moment to look at the woods around them, and a shiver went up his spine. All the different paths and choices and mistakes were made along this path, and the thought of making a decision for himself, was enough for his breathing to pick up dangerously.

But then there was Opportunist, moving to step closer to him, and he wasn't sure if the action was meant to be comforting or not, but his tone was soft as he said, "We're not just voices anymore. We have to make our own choices now, and we have to work together."

Damn it, he was right. Paranoid couldn't traverse these woods by himself, and they both knew it. But the thought of agreeing with a backstabber left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he looked Opportunist up and down warily and said, "So you think we could make a good team? Why not the stubborn one or the Hunted? Surely they'd be better protection."

Opportunist shrugged, making a noise of indifference, not entirely disagreeing. "They're good, but they don't think the way you do, they don't worry about the same things as you do."

"I'm also the voice that doesn't trust easily," Paranoid pointed out, one hand preening the feathers at his chest, as a feeble way to protect his heart. Then, he clarified, "I still don't exactly trust you."

"You don't have to trust me, Jitters. You just have to work with me."

"I'm sorry, but I fail to see how we could be anything but disastrous."

"Think about it," and then Paranoid couldn't move away fast enough as Opportunist draped both an arm and a wing over his shoulders, forcing his body to freeze and tense up. He couldn't help but notice that his own feathers looked thin, frail and utterly dead when compared to Opportunist's fluffy and vibrant ones.

"Being aware of the dangers around us and still doing what's going to get us to our goal-we'd be great together." Paranoid just hummed in response, too busy being alert for any tricks his companion may pull on him.

"Yes, but you could say that about any of the others, too. We all have a different goal that we think is the correct one. There was a lot of arguing." Paranoid was getting a headache just remembering the tiring debates he would have with the others-some who would constantly want to throw themselves into danger, or would be inclined to trust the Princess.

But as annoying as they were, Paranoid still missed them, a pang of longing in his heart that made his breath hitch. He wasn't used to being alone. Beforehand, no matter what the Decider did, all the voices were together, until the very end, even up to that mirror.

But now Paranoid was all alone, and he was hating every second of it.

"Doing everything you can to get out of a bad situation, doesn't sound too awful, now does it?"

But he wasn't alone, and even though Opportunist was nothing more than a selfish traitor, he was still a fragment of Him, and he was all that Paranoid had left now.

"Okay," he softly said, and then he felt Opportunist stiffen, before backing away and quietly going, "Really?"

But it was the surprise on the other's face, that had Paranoid being alert all over again. "Yes, I think you're right. Why do you look surprised?"

In the blink of an eye, Opportunist was grinning at him again, wings spread out with a certain glint in his eyes, as if the surprise had never been there in the first place. He chuckled, but Paranoid caught the sound of anxiety at the edges of it.

"I'm just happy, Jitters.Usually Hero is the only one you actually listen to."

Oh, Hero.The thought of their sweet and kind leader made another ache stab at his heart. He listens to him because Hero was one of the only ones he actually felt safe around.

"Well, we're going to find him soon enough, aren't we? That's why we're teaming up."

Opportunist nodded, his face so bright that it almost looked fake, but it probably was. "Yes, yes, of course. Whatever you think is right, I'll do."

But he was the voice of the Paranoid for a reason, and he suddenly didn't like the way Opportunist was talking. He gave the other a suspicious look, wings tucked in as he said, "That-is what you want, right? Opportunist, tell me that's what you want."

Because that was the other thing about Opportunist-he simply sided with the majority, discarding his own beliefs in the favor of being on the winning side. He'd say anything if it kept him in the others good graces, so that it would be easier to achieve what he actually wanted.

But Paranoid was the only one here, and Opportunist had only told him why he wanted Paranoid-for safety, and knew that finding the others was what he wanted, but he had never stated what Opportunist wanted.

"What do you want, Opportunist?"

"I thought we were in agreement that-"

"Finding the others doesn't benefit you, so what's your big plan for me?"

"Jitters, I'm not going to hurt you-"

"I don't believe you!"

"I'm just as worried as you-"

Paranoid had had enough. "Oppy, can you just put the mask down for five fucking seconds and be honest with me?!"

His scream echoed between the trees and the rocks, as he glared at Opportunist, who just had a look of soft shock on his face. He couldn't look at that. He couldn't feel guilty for a creature of many faces.

He blinked back tears, spinning around to put his back to the other-a bad idea, in hindsight, but he didn't care right now.

There was nothing but heavy silence, and Paranoid half expected claws to be ripping through his neck any second now, but he could never guess what actually happened.

"Is it so hard to believe," came Opportunist's voice, but what startled him was how small it sounded, and he spun back around, only to blink in surprise at how he literally looked small right now.

His head was lowered, one hand playing with a loose feature between his claws. His wings were pinned against his back, and like this, Paranoid could really tell how different they were in sizes. But he swore that Opportunist hadn't been that tiny-but that was when it dawned on him.

The wings were the only big thing about him.

"-that I actually liked being part of a flock?"

For a split second, Paranoid saw it all then. The paralyzing fear in Opportunist's eyes, the same that he felt every day. Not just in this moment, but in general. Opportunist was afraid, the same as all the others.

Paranoid understood why he did what he did, why he lied and backstabbed-safety. It was why all of them did what they did-to keep Him safe, even from Himself. Fear will make you do anything to protect the people you love.

This was as honest as Opportunist was going to be, that he was allowing himself to be, all for Paranoid to trust him. This was his olive branch.

Paranoid didn't like it, but he could understand it, and maybe that was enough right now.

So he took a deep breath, and stuck his hand out. Opportunist just stared at his hand in surprise, as if this wasn't real. Paranoid rolled his eyes and said, "I'm sorry for yelling. Let's work together, and find the rest of our flock."

Opportunist stared at him for a moment, and he could see a shine in his eyes, and he wasn't entirely sure what that meant, before the other grinned and enthusiastically shook his hand. "Oh Jitters, you can be a real sweetheart when you want to be! I assure you, with the two of us working together, we'll be unstoppable."

Before Paranoid could retort, Opportunist quickly yanked him forward, linking their arms and draping his wing back over his shoulders-essentially binding him to this decision now. But surprisingly enough, he felt okay about this. Not safe,but okay.

"Why do you call me Jitters? I have a name, you know."

"Yeah, but Jitters sounds nicer than Paranoid. You can give me a nickname if you want."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"...I-I actually liked Oppy. It's kinda cute."

"Oppy it is, then."

[thebeeandtheplumbobs]

[snickerdoodlesart]

So what if your rain world ocs meet the canon characters

my rain world ocs are so boring because the only perspective I think about them in is a gameplay/campaign standpoint...

but based on the timeline Starbound would likely cross paths with Spearmaster. Both being bioengineered slugcats, I think they'd share some sort of kinship.

Starbound would be like Spear's younger cousin who doesn't know what the words "please be quiet" means. Their respective goals would split them up before Starbound's sporadic jumping and ceaseless screaming could drive Spear away.

Abyssal's storyline takes place closest to Saint's campaign. Abyssal can't really leave the water but they'd poke fun of Saint when or if they can. Weird fluffy green thing with no gills..

Knowing Saint (do we at all??) their stoic and. saint-like demeanor would bore Abyssal into bothering some poor salamanders instead.

[ghomanimation]

ok I've recently stumbled upon a christian and his audience playing ultrakill and brushing off its explicit themes as "lore junk food" and now I feel like I'm taking crazy pills so

ULTRAKILL, Violence, and Christianity

first addressing that this post is not about christian theology or individual belief in the christian faith as ULTRAKILL does not make an effort to accurately imitate it, this post also does not care about Hakita's authorial intent, it is about symbolism and what Christianity physically is in the world we live in

So, first thing we need to establish: though Jesus does not exist, the tree of life is 100% meant to evoke the cross, in this reading as a symbol of Christianity rather than a Christian symbol.

I read "the world looks white" as an expression of moral purity in religion: 'if you follow the path laid before you there shall be naught but goodness, in the world you will have tribulation but your soul is pure, our souls are pure because we follow god'. But the paths lead in circles and those who tread beyond it are deserving of eternal punishment, "the world looks red", the violence is built into the purity, it is what lies beyond the veil: 'your body is one of god's creations, it does not belong to you, we must save you from yourself by any means necessary'. If blood, the fruit of the tree, is your soul, and your impure vessel of flesh is its prison, it must be liberated through the art of violence. In gameplay it is an act perpetuated by machines and husk alike for survival and it is glorified desecration of the pure white halls, in visuals it is the flesh of entrapped undesirable souls splayed out on the altar.

The death of God's will

God is gone for good after an impossibly long series of failures in making humanity follow its words, I have seen the argument that because it makes mistakes, this entity is nothing like the Christian God, however as in the previous section this reading requires that we understand symbols on a metaphorical rather than theological level: "God is dead", this quote was not said in praise of atheism, in fact quite the opposite: everyone can see that we do not live in a world that follows religious teachings anymore, although we inherit most of our morality and philosophy from an era where almost everyone was religious. I would argue mistakes made by god, and its subsequent departure, are just the very basic atheist point that no god of pure good would let the world become so horrible, it is no coincidence that the events of ULTRAKILL are kick started by the great war: The world is bleak, Hell as a punishment is monstrous, and no force of good will come to right these wrongs because god only exists to enforce strict rules that cannot be followed for it has designed humanity with free will. In ULTRAKILL, heaven is ruled over by an unjust republic that insists failure is not a result of circumstances but indeed the faltering of your faith, for the god that has abandoned you is omniscient and omnipotent, if you simply believed hard enough you would overcome the world. And they might be right about the archangel in particular: Gabriel's faith was indeed impure before he even lost to man's creation, even in carrying out the tyrannic rule of heaven over hell, he believed in the redemption of some husks, he was primed to question the culture of his community after being proven wrong, he is an angel that was able to exercise free will, and free will is a flaw. But justice and morality do not require oppressive control, in this version of hell there are good people and in its heaven there are extremists, your status is not dictated by goodness it is dictated by the arbitrary rules of the church, and disobedience will lead to literal outcasting. The ending of act 2 is a glorious cry of Humanism.

This is the part where I say the lust layer visual novel about nihilism also participates in this reading as nihilism comes from the assumption that the absence of god is the absence of meaning, and its rebuttal comes from the assumption that there is in fact life to be found outside of religion through community and self determination.

And I'm kind of running out of points after this rant so yes I'm including the fact this game is gay as hell as a critique of queerphobic christian fundamentalism ok bye

[iovebarca]

Barça Bond - Fermín López

Authors note: i'm trying to write as much as possible the next few days because exam szn is here and i have a lot of studying to do🙃 so send requests! 🫶🏼

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, just fluff i think

WC: 850+

Summary: You and Fermín, both players for FC Barcelona, developed a bond during training. Despite an injury you suffered defending him, Fermín supported you. Your friendship turned into romance despite teasing from teammates. Supported by your peers, you faced the future together.

You were passionate about football. Every kick of the ball, every sprint down the field, fueled your love for the game. You played for FC Barcelona's women's team, known not just for your skillful footwork and strategic gameplay, but also for your unwavering dedication to the sport.

Fermín was a standout midfielder for the men's team, admired by fans and teammates alike for his agility, precision passes, and ability to read the game. He seemed to glide across the field, effortlessly orchestrating plays and leaving opponents in his wake.

Your paths first crossed during a joint training session organized by the club's coach. As you and Fermín found yourselves on opposing sides of a practice match, there was an immediate spark of recognition. You had seen him play before, of course, but being on the same field together ignited something new—a sense of camaraderie mixed with a hint of rivalry.

Throughout the session, tensions rising on the field. One of the opposing players had been playing particularly aggressively for no reason, and it wasn't long before a heated exchange erupted between them and Fermín.

Without a second thought, you rushed to Fermín's defense, stepping between him and the other player. "Hey, ease up! It's just a friendly scrimmage," you said firmly, trying to defuse the situation.

But before you could even finish your sentence, the other player lunged forward, knocking into you with unexpected force. The impact sent you stumbling backward, your feet tangling beneath you. With a cry of surprise, you fell to the ground, landing hard on your side.

Pain shot through you as you lay there, momentarily stunned. Fermín's voice sounded muffled in your ears as he knelt beside you, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," he said, his hands hovering uncertainly over you.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you managed a weak nod. "I-I think so," you replied, wincing as you tried to sit up. Fermín's arm slipped around your waist, helping you into a sitting position as he continued to apologize profusely.

With Fermín's support, you managed to stand, albeit shakily. Together, you made your way off the field and towards the club's medical center. Fermín stayed by your side the entire time, his worry evident in every glance he cast your way.

At the medical center, the club's physiotherapist examined you carefully, checking for any signs of serious injury. After a thorough examination, they reassured you that it was just a knock and nothing more. Relief flooded through you, and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Fermín smiled at your reaction, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm glad you're okay," he said softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against yours.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. "Thanks for staying with me," you said, grateful for his presence and support.

As the season progressed, your teams continued to train together, and you found yourselves drawn to each other during breaks. You struck up conversations about soccer tactics, shared favorite players, and joked about the highs and lows of training sessions.

Off the field, your friendship with Fermín blossomed into something deeper. You discovered that you had much in common beyond soccer. You both loved the thrill of adventure, whether it was trying out new restaurants in town or playing fifa together.

As your bond grew stronger, so did the whispers among your teammates. It wasn't long before they began teasing you about your obvious affection for each other. At first, you brushed off their comments, but as you spent more time together, it became harder to deny the truth—you were falling for Fermín, and he seemed to feel the same way about you.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, Fermín asked if you'd like to grab a post-practice snack together. You agreed, and as you sat across from each other in a cozy café, sipping hot chocolate and sharing stories, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Fermín deepened. You supported each other through tough games, celebrated victories together, and lifted each other up in moments of defeat. You discovered new sides to each other—the vulnerabilities hidden beneath the confident facade on the field, the dreams and aspirations that drove you both forward.

Eventually, your relationship became an open secret among your teammates, who wholeheartedly supported you. When you finally decided to make your relationship official, it felt like the perfect culmination of everything you had shared—the victories, the defeats, the laughter, and the tears.

Standing side by side on the field, hand in hand, you and Fermín knew that you were each other's biggest fans, both on and off the pitch. And as you faced whatever challenges the future held, you were confident that together, you could conquer anything.

[doberbutts]

Back on my bullshit about games that The Gamers (derogatory) really fucking hate for transparently bigoted reasons:

Dragon Age: The Veilguard:

It was... okay? I played Origins thru Inquisition back when Inq came out and actually did not like Origins very much at all and to this day refuse to replay it for various reasons. Some of it is a bit unfair because I went in blind and my origin choice really locked me out of understanding some of the lore until I played the sequels, but some of it is simply problems I had with the game itself. I did love 2- and am FenHawke forever- and liked Inquisition much better than Origins but not as much as 2.

Mostly my feelings on Veilguard is that it took too long to get here, and thus most of the fire they lit after Inq has burned out. The audience is now significantly more reactionary and deeply entrenched in a bigoted mindset, and what was hard to swallow for 2 and Inq fans has now become completely intolerable by the same players who have been playing a "it is morally wrong to hate people over demographics" story the entire time. This is where we get the people complaining that it's preachy and heavy-handed. It really isn't any more than the other games, though perhaps it's lost a bit of the subtlety of the previous writers due to changes within the writers' room itself.

Otherwise things like lore changes? Those I distinctly recall being hinted at in Inquisition that what Origins and 2 had sold us was not a correct version of the lore. Now perhaps I am more forgiving of the bait and switch because I am a JRPG veteran and JRPGs love doing that, but that's just natural story progression to me. Yes, everything we knew about the elves, the titans, the religions, even the fade itself is different now. Solas has been telling us since Inquisition that we were wrong about this stuff. So to say "they changed it" now feels a little silly, because we have been told already that it was changing.

Gameplay? Eh, it's alright. I would have preferred a more open world but they seemed to like the 2 mechanic of having pre-defined maps and paths. Combat? It's not the most revolutionary and I do actually miss having 3 companions to bounce off of instead of 2 but I had no overall problems with it. I wish there was more interaction between the companions- one of the reasons I stuck around long enough to finish Origins was because I thought Morrigan was hilarious in her banter. I wish the choices felt a bit more punchy, I wish there were more previous game tie-ins, I wish we had actually gut-punch reactions to some of the more gut-punch worthy things.

I thought that D'meta's Crossing was wonderful, as was the chaos of Weisshaupt. I thought Neve's anger and grief and bitterness at the destruction of Dock Town was fantastic, especially for my Shadow Dragon Rook. I wish we had that a bit more often- it seemed like a lot of going "well that sucks, anyway-" in terms of rolling with the punches. Give me an Emmrich completely broken down and barely holding on by a thread as he decides what to do with Manfred. We had Taash screaming into the distance in grief- and mentioning in banter that they were still grieving, but not The Guy Who Fears Death And Has Big Emotions when faced with an ultimatum? Harding barely mentions a crisis of religion and then immediately drops it- give me the devout and religious Harding struggling to come to terms with what this means for her understanding of the Andrastian religion. Give me Bellara having a crisis of faith regarding the elven gods after everything she's been through. Give me the companion's panic at losing so many members during one of the climax and their flood of relief when they find Rook again. Something! Anything! Whre are my punches!!!

So many people are so bothered by Taash and I just don't understand it. Sten also is abrasive and rude for the majority of his time in Origins, and the Arishok was notably cruel and got off to torturing people. Bull himself says this is pretty common for qunari, especially members of the Antaam, and that the reason he isn't a member of the Antaam is because he was different enough to be able to lie and put on a pleasant face. And even he gets off to sadomasicistic kink and canonically gets horny whenever he kills things or gets hit but especially when it's a dragon involved. And people are surprised by Taash's... everything??? Yeah that's just how qunari are, everyone except Bull has been Like That and Bull himself tells you why.

I do think at times the language is too modern compared to previous games- but this isn't about the nonbinary vs trans vs a fantasy term for it discussion. The way the characters speak is often outside of the established cadence of the world, with exception to Emmrich who had a lot of care put into the way he talks.

The plot is... alright? Again, it didn't blow me away and was fairly predictable knowing that we were heading into something like this at the end of Inquisition. I would have loved more twists and turns, but again I am a JRPG guy and twists and turns are the JRPG bread and butter. Honestly that's sort of the problem I have with the entire game- I would have liked more. At every point it was like they came close to doing something really impactful, really lasting, really great... and then at the last minute pivoted away from that for something with less bite. No! You have teeth! Use them! Why are we de-fanging the series that made people argue for 10 years whether you should spare or kill Loghain????

All in all I think a 7 or 8 ish out of 10- it was fun, I enjoyed it, I am 100% an Old Man Fucker apparently, it gave us a lot of firsts and overall I'm not upset that I spent time playing it or investing my energy in it. But I wish it had a little more oomph, so it loses a more solid rating because I kept wanting it to be a bit more than it turned out to be.