#wouldn't you like your outcome preferred? [ reset ]

[trollamulet]

the alarm clock rouses jim from his sleep. the sun streams in to his early start of six am. blue eyes blink as he sits up. it's not the usual energetic start fifteen-year old jim would be - determined to make a delightful meal for his mother to wake up from her late night with, as well as her meal for her shift, as well as making sure toby had something halfway decent to eat. jim moves to his laptop to look at the time and the recipe he'd had open the night before. he stares at the date stamp on the lower right hand bar of the screen.

september 17, 2016. the day that kanjigar dies. in another time, in another life - this is the day that jim would assume the role of trollhunter by retrieving the amulet from the rubble of his body. but this life is a new chance.

the akaridion amulet did come back with him, and it glows innocently beside him on the desk. jim cannot reject this one. after all, he is the trollhunter, will always be the trollhunter. though, this time he intends on one of his friends assuming the role, hopefully the amulet calls out for them instead of jim. maybe it'll sense he has no need for merlin's silver and onyx and sword and service - because he's already fighting for the good of all.

the trouble is the sword, but he could make do. excalibur remained in that ruined timeline, all he needs is to sneak into trollmarket, and he can find something there to use. his body isn't as coordinated as it was - given the fact he wouldn't be training the same way, but he reckoned a spear would serve in place of sword. or maybe he'd luck out and there would be some funky sword that conjured from it - but then again, when krel and the rest of the team worked on the design, jim had opted for the ability to use gemstones. he did still know how to cleave like a troll - he could just experiment with gemstones until something worked.

he lets himself think - wonder - as he cooks, finishing up breakfast for himself quickly and making his mom's breakfast while the meatloaf for his meatloaf sandwiches cooks. (he leaves out the cardamom that toby complained about before.) he needs to make sure everyone doesn't know what's going on, what he knows.

and when he and toby bike through the canal - he glances down to the pile of kanjigar's remains - knowing draal will be out there after sundown to gather his father's corpse to reassemble in the hero's forge... he doesn't see the amulet.

jim swallows, and continues to school - trying not to let it get to him. maybe claire was through there? compelled by some fateful predestiny, but he doubts it. and he doubts their shadowed enemies could have gotten to it first.

[furinana]

More relic-talking that somehow ended up making me able to convey an underrated part on why Apocalypse's design earns it so much replayability even on the character driven aspect:

So yeah after almost a year I'm still saving screenshots of content I haven't seen before. Even after playing this game five times (3 on citra) I sure wasn't ready for the amount of material I was proposing myself to gather. it's so much

Something I didn't consider before but now it all comes together to me for another part of why it can be so extremely rare to see even half of all the existing text from your SMTIVA partners in the overworld is because aside RNG, some characters will only react positively to specific types of relics.

This is not the full extent of what they can react to but I wanted to highlight some of their preferences.

Notice the differences between what makes one interested in what they see. In contrast, they don't have this exclusivity when commenting about your attires or the food you choose to eat (although those were still a pain to trigger nonetheless since you have to go out of your way and repeat and repeat until they show up as well).

I tried to extract excited responses and depending on the location some partners wouldn't say anything specific to what we found no matter how many times I'd reset and collect it again. And mind you, I was retrying this for several minutes and even through different approaches in case I could manipulate the RNG to make it less rigged.

Wait, less rigged you say? So... it seems silly but as someone that has played a lot of SMT on emulators, each game has a different RNG rate. For example: if I died on a battle or made an enemy mad and rewind to 2 seconds before, in some games you are able to see something different happening while others will repeat the same outcome no matter how many times you retry going back to these same 2 seconds (which means you'd have to go back to before the turn or even the start of the battle to get a chance for a different outcome). So yeah, this logic also applies for some of the chances of seeing a quote of a SMTIVA partner in whatever context you currently are.

I already commented about this before but I really gotta put emphasis on it: the SMT4 duology is beyond question the most time-consuming mainline to document everything about it because not only there is an absolute massive amount of text, several parts of it are only possible to see in very specific instances, like 1)

how low your level is

how low your stats are

how many relics you have

what partner you have

in what part of the game you are

in what route you are

whether you're doing everything properly or just fucking around

how much of an asshole you have been (Toki and Isabeau are the ones out of my head that irreversibly change certain lines)

and you also gotta include 2) there's only a CHANCE for some showing up. Demon negotiations are the most well-known example of this but in SMTIVA they go beyond and also add these to your partners. Even with me specifically going out of my way to trigger them, they can take so many attempts to see! From this perspective, SMTIVA has the most awarding postgame since a normal player would very hardly dry up of different content to see.

[stuckybarton]

Day xxv: Dark

Summary: You now live in your very own version of Groundhogs Day with your soon-to-be ex Dr. Stephen Strange. Words: 3,041 Warning: Dark!Fic. Psyche Breaking. Manipulation. Coercion. Non/Dub-Con. Smut. Vaginal Intercourse. Mentions of Suicide. Murder. Mentions of Blood. Character Death. Characters: Darkl!Stephen Strange x Soon-To-Be EX!Reader

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Opening your eyes, welcomed with a familiar ache between your legs.

Hopelessness could not even begin to describe the situation you were placed in. Your eyes darted back to the now familiar clock stationed on the bedside drawer.

8:25 AM February 2, 2022.

Again.

The best way you could describe what was going on was you were experiencing your own Groundhogs Day--that was also your own personal hell at this point.

After the first few instances of the same day, of the same outcome when the clock struck midnight, time had become a blur and you had lost count of just how many times you had been placed in this never ending spiral.

Had it just been days, weeks, months, or years. The answer no longer becoming meaningful in your predicament.

At 8:29 AM, the sound of the creaking door would open and the man responsible for your eternal torment had now stepped inside the bedroom--the same bedroom you shared with him.

Closing your eyes, for a moment you had hoped this was just a sick dream, prayed that Stephen was not the psychopath he was in this very moment for trapping you here. For treating you as cruel as he did in this moment. But your hope was quickly torn away at the familiar smell of bacon and eggs--well done like you had always preferred but had grown to disgust after consuming over and over.

"Morning."

You lost count of the number of responses you've given him at the start of the morning and you've learned the hard way that silence was somehow the safest route to make. You wouldn't say anything that would already worsen the hell of the situation but not enough to make him believe that you were loving the situation.

Silence could mean so many things. But you wanted it to mean your slow descend to the void. Giving up was not an option when it comes to you, but after everything it was the only choice you could have.

You took the chance to look at the man. You had come to regret ever accompanying your best friend to the hospital, regretted having talk to the infamous surgeon. His gunmetal blue eyes were resting on you, a small part of you was somehow paranoid that with the constant reset of time, it would also mean he knew what exactly you were thinking.

This man had changed your life for the better and for the worse. Meeting him post-operation with your best friend. Accepting his coffee date and before long you found yourself moving into his apartment in the heart of New York, then the accident happened and the man you had once loved was no longer there and you were left with a shell instead.

He left you to get one last chance of possibly fixing his broken hands, but he returned a different man, with a different perspective in life and you just couldn't handle it. You couldn't handle seeing the man you had once thought you could spend the rest of your life with turn into every single thing you hated. He thought otherwise and so here you were, the next day after you had thought of calling it quits with him.

Placed in your own little purgatory for God knows how long, for whatever duration Stephen saw fit.

You know why, and you had the answer to escape all of this. Yet you chose not to make the decision.

"I'm not hungry." You finally muttered, covered brought up to your chin before you turned away from Stephen. Maybe today you could pretend that he wasn't even here.

Your eyes fell before the open window, you had once tried to end it all, but the next day--rather, the same day as you were proclaimed dead as soon as midnight struck, you were back here when your eyes opened. In the same position as you were now in. In the same predicament, to forever spend your day in this nightmare.

"We both know that isn't true." He scoffed, the plate placed on top of his bedside drawer.

Relenting, you sat up from the bed, ignoring the eyes that now stared at your naked body. Whatever you had or did not have on, Stephen would always give you the same heated and leering look. Turning you gaze to the breakfast, you tried you best to keep the smile away. Bacon close to a burnt state.

"After cooking bacon as many times as you did, it still amazes me how you could almost ruining the pieces." You pointed out taking the plate.

"Blame the hands." He sighed, sitting besides you on the bed as you tried your best to down breakfast. You watching him for a moment, how his eyes fall towards his hands. He had gain powers, but the stability in his hands was something he had learned to live with.

Having you leave should also be something he should learn to live with.

Silence enveloped the both of you, with only the gentle clinking of your fork against the plate resounding the bedroom. At the start of your predicament, you had thought of several elaborate plans that would always end with you waking back here in the Sanctum, but it was always what you had to do to yourself that made time return back to the same date. But what if...

"I never got to ask, but it's that thing right?" You didn't need to specify what you meant, he knew what you were asking.

"The Eye of Agamotto." He answered, there was gentleness in his hold of the thing around his neck. "The time stone." He added.

"You're the only one capable of wielding it?" You inquired further.

"Sound like you have a plan." He could see right through you at this point but the amulet wasn't what you're focused on.

"Maybe if I steal if from you, I'd finally be free. Move on with my life and be as far away as possible from you." Provoking him wasn't the best idea, but you needed him to do the same thing like he usually does when you have him facing the truth.

The plate was thrown to the floor with a resounding crash but before his hand could wrap around your neck, your hands were quicker, with the fork at hand you stabbed him right in the jugular, and snagging the amulet away from him. If the thing wasn't in his possession it meant he couldn't turn back time and save himself.

Spurt of blood bathed you and the bed, as Stephen tried to cover the wound you had inflicted on him. But he was losing too much blood, too much that you could finally see the life slowly fade away from his eyes. Your hands were tied behind your back and this was the best thing you could possibly do. Hands now painted with blood, it was this or damnation.

As the life finally faded from Stephen's eyes, the first line of tears escaped your eyes. This was not how you would have preferred for things to end. With you killing the man you had once loved, but it was either him or you.

It took you a moment to control the sobs to a minimum. The body, the mess, and blood that was painted all over the bed was to be left as it was. Wherever you were planning on going, you will make sure no one can find you. No one that has ever been associated with Stephen, or any of the people that had vowed to avenge the world. A mockery of such a virtue with what little morality they had left in their lives.

You took a shower, the water washed away the scarlet that lingered on your skin. Forever would you be haunted at the sight of the blood passing through the drain. But you swallowed away the fear as you thought of everything you needed to pack and all your documents before leaving for good.

With what little you could carry in your luggage, you had escaped the confinements of the Sanctum. The Eye of Agamotto hidden inside of your bag, the further the stone was from Stephen, the better your chance of finally getting your escape. If what Stephen said was true, only he could be able to control the thing, with him dead and away from the stone, it meant more chance for you to escape this.

"Taxi!" You hailed a taxi and the smile grew bigger and bigger from your lips as nothing has yet to happen to you. It was finally working.

The bright yellow taxi stopped by the curb and you were quick to make your way onto the back. Luggage also slipped inside, cautious about leaving it unattended on the trunk of the car.

"Where to, Ma'am?"

"The nearest car rental in the city." You responded.

After renting a car, under an alias of all things, you drove as far away from New York as possible. Only stopping Gas Stations for bathroom breaks and a quick snack. Never once did you look at the TV or Newspapers, fearing that the death of Stephen would already be on the news and a target now placed on your head. The numbing ache on your back and legs were forgotten as you continued to drive.

It was close to midnight when you had decided to stay at a motel. There was still this lingering fear in the back of your mind that when the clock strikes twelve, you would be back in the sanctum.

Brushing away the fear, you had made your way to the reception's desk. A dimly lit and far too shady motel for your own liking, but it was best you could find within the ten mile radius--and with fatigue finally coming to wash over you, this could do for the night.

"Room for one." You spoke, eyes wandering towards the mid-fifties woman sitting bored on the desk.

It got weirded when she didn't even ask for ID's or paper works. Only asking if it was cash or card, cash was what you answered her knowing it wouldn't leave a paper trail for you if the search began.

"Room 121. I know it's hard running, but you can rest now."

The old lady's words brought a shiver down her spine. How did she know?

"I've seen the fear before honey, It's gonna be alright."

Not saying anything but a thank you, you took the key from her and made your way into your designated room.

There wasn't much in the room. Just a bed with a small bedside drawer, a bathroom, and no windows--which surprisingly you weren't mad about. It was better for you that way. No one can see you, and you couldn't see anyone.

The idea of taking a bath after the long drive was placed to the side, all you want to do for now is sleep. Rest a little before going on the road again, to whatever destination might finally come to you.

The clock app on your phone made you aware that it was only a minute left before midnight. You stared at the clock, hoping and praying that when it strikes, you wouldn't be placed in the same predicament all over again.

With bated breath, you waited. Before long, 11:59 turned to 12:00 and you were still in the shady hotel and that was enough for you. Finally slipping onto the bed, you decided that the nightmare was finally over and you could rest, knowing you can finally live your life. No more redo's, no more Stephen, and no more nightmare of living the same day over and over and over again.

Your eyes grew heavy from the travels and you finally allowed sleep to take you.

~

Opening your eyes, welcomed with a familiar ache between your legs.

Hopelessness could not even begin to describe the situation you were placed in. Your eyes darted back to the now familiar clock stationed on the bedside drawer.

8:25 AM February 2, 2022.

Again.

No.

Jerking your head, no longer was there the motel room or the dingy bed you had to tolerate in your travel. But the Sanctum. Your bedroom you shared with Stephen. Your eyes jerked towards the pristine bed sheets, the blood no longer present, nor the mess you had created from your actions towards Stephen.

Where did you go wrong?

"You've gotten resourceful, I'll give you that."

The shiver has run through your spine at the voice of the man, sitting up from the bed, you faced him and he was back to his normal self. No longer did he look dead like the last time you has seen him.

"I was able to escape the loop!" You screamed, panic now surging through your body. If killing the man couldn't undo the loop, what hope could you have of ever escaping.

"Driving all the way to Chicago and never taking into consideration the time zones." He snorts. "You could have escaped, had you not taken the time stone with you. Or--maybe not?" The smile on his face made you want to gag. He was playing with you, using every little chance you had and slamming it right back to your face. "And because of your little stunt, breakfast in bed is no longer an option."

Stephen was a man of Science, no amount of magic could ever change that. Constantly adapting to your actions, and making the necessary change to better suit him and make things harder for you.

"Please, just let me go." You whimpered, tears falling from your eyes. "I don't want any of this, Ste. You can't keep me here against my will."

"I only want thing," He whispered leaning close to you, you did not know what you feared more at this point, how he could physically hurt you should you try to kill him again or his magic that could make you bend to his will. "And we have all the time in the world for you to make that decision and free the both of us from this loop."

You shook your head, refusing to even entertain the idea. Your decision was final, but the more he did this to you, the more you feared that your resolve would crumble.

"Take your time then," He smirked pulling away. "We got time."

For nearly a dozen of times, you did everything. You tried killing Stephen and yourself, but as soon as the time had struck midnight, you were both back to normal and another privilege was taken away from you. You had tried to take the amulet from Stephen, tried destroying it but the thing just reanimated back to it's former state. You tried burning the Sanctum to ablaze, hoping that it might just do the trick, but every single time, even as Stephen was faced with immense pain, the demented smile still rested on his lips and that was all the indicator you needed to know that your plan didn't work.

Waking up on the same bed, the same date and the same time, everything was taken away from you. No longer were you allowed outside of the bedroom and if you dare try, an unknown power would bring you right back to the bedroom. The windows were barred shut and the curtain was closed, removing you from any source of light. Removing you from all hope of ever finally finding a way to escape him.

"Are you done now?" The voice in the darkness had you wincing and realizing that there was a danger in his tone. He was getting tired of this just as much as you, but he had the patience that you could only hope to have for yourself.

"What do I need to do?" You closed your eyes. White flag finally raised. You had done every possible plan and every single one of them failed and you were back, with your odds constantly against your favor.

"You and I know what it is."

You sighed, nodding, doubtful that he could even see you in the darkness at this point.

"I'm not leaving you, Ste." You whispered, and the weight on your shoulder was lifted.

There was silence in the room, fear lingered in your system as you sat up, trying your best to search for him. The green light radiated from his amulet and you were quick to see him. Satisfaction rested on his face at your words.

"Prove it then."

You closed your eyes as you slipped off the blanket, to reveal your still naked body to him.

~

The sensation of him, so full inside of you had you at edge.

In a prone position, your hands fisted the sheets, little whimpers escaped your lips as Stephen continued to fuck you. Time--like it had always had, was lost and you had lost count of the times he had fucked you, made you cum and had cum inside of you. No longer did you have the urge to fight, but to let things be. To let Stephen be.

"Will you leave me again?" He questioned, his hips stilled deep inside of you. Your growing release now halted.

"No," You whispered, hips raising to form any kind of friction. "I'm sorry." You plead for him.

"Hmm?" He inquired, hips still never moving. "That's not the answer I was looking for." Hands digging onto your hips, but he still refused to move.

"I won't leave. I promise I'm not gonna leave." You relent and he continued on with the slow torture of bringing you to your pleasure.

In the darkness of the room, the sound of your whimpers and the squelching of his thrust inside of you filled the room.

"Of course you won't, because if you do--I'm gonna bring you back here, over and over again."

Opening your eyes, welcomed with a familiar ache between your legs and the sleeping man besides you, peace lingered on his features, so out of the usual habit you had grown accustomed to.

No longer hopeless, your eyes darted back to the now familiar clock stationed on the bedside drawer.

8:30 AM February 3, 2022