#and if they needed to write stein off for whatever reason they were already fucking doing that so what was the reason

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4: Apologize

I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.

Summary: 

Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.

Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic. 

**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.

It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.

After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery. 

The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well. 

Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.

The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.

Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes. 

Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.

It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.

They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason. 

Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.

More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.

She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.

He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.

He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.

All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though. 

Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.

Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.

She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.

And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.

He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.  

He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.

Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town. 

Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section. 

There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.

Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.  

He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.

He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.

“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.

Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”

Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”

“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.

Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.

Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.

“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.” 

Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.

Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up. 

Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.

“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.

“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”

Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”

He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.

“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.

 “I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.

He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”

Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”

“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.

She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.

Is she fucking serious?

Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness. 

It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.

“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.

Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?

After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check. 

The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.  

So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.

“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”

A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.” 

“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.

“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone. 

            _______________________________________________

Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.

It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him. 

She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue. 

And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear. 

She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.

“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”

In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight. 

“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.

“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”

Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.

“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?” 

Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question. 

“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.

This entire conversation was throwing her off.

“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”

Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine. 

“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out. 

“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”

“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.

He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.” 

“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?” 

Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”

She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance. 

“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.

The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides. 

She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.

But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.

Had she really been so blind? 

             _______________________________________________

Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.

He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.

It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.

He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue. 

Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get. 

As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her. 

He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends. 

He’d felt used.

Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.

Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.

Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.

Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.

All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.

“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater. 

“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.

She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.

“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I? 

Was that a trick question?

“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.

“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.

He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?

He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”

His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”

It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.

“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.

“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.

“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”

She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.

Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you’d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”

She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.

“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.

“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”

“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”

“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.

As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.

“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”

His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.

“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.

She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.

“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”  

Very articulate. Great job, Soul.

He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.

“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest. 

At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.

She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips. 

This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making. 

When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face. 

“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.

He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep. 

He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaweek #soul eater #soul evans #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul x maka

[qqueenofhades]

Okay, y'all. Time to do this one more time. Let the fact that there are so many of these posts right now reinforce the point. Many of you already know this, and I see and love you, but for anyone still ~undecided about their choice, should they be an American citizen of voting age on November 3, 2020:

Time to not be. It was time a long, long while ago, but I am going to have to say it again.

Primary season is over. The endless fine-tooth combing of candidates' policies and positions is over. We are all deeply well aware that the candidates on the Democratic ticket, being human beings and establishment politicians, are flawed. "BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS POSITION FROM 19/ 20-WHENEVER AS JUSTIFICATION FOR WHY IT'S TERRIBLE TO VOTE FOR -- "

No. Stop. Just stop. Stop threatening to hold the rest of us hostage, in the middle of a pandemic, the Great Depression, and racial inequality and protests on a scale not seen from the 1960s, because you did not get Barbie Dream Candidate. That is the behavior of terrorists and toddlers. If your supposedly enlightened morally pure ideology does not involve any action to mitigate the harm that is directly in front of you, it isn't worth a shit as an ideology actually devoted to helping people. If your approach to politics is to shout about how Pure your ideas are on twitter and tear down anyone working within a system of flawed choices to do the good that they can: you're not helping, and frankly, your constant threats to withhold your suffrage as a punishment to us aren't convincing the rest of us that we really need to listen to you or that you have anyone's best interests at heart. The Online Left TM is as much a vacuous, self-reinforcing noise chamber as the Online Right TM, and can sometimes tend to be even more dangerous.

I was saying this in 2016. A lot of us were saying this in 2016. I am just about to turn 32 years old and have been voting in federal elections for almost 15 years. For what it's worth.

This is not an ordinary election. This is not a contest between two flawed candidates who respect the system and want to work to enact their policies in the ordinary way. One is a flawed 90s era Democrat who nonetheless has already been pushed CONSIDERABLY left in his policies and platforms since the end of the primaries (and his existing platform would already make him the most left president elected, even more than Obama). The other is a fascist dictator who has openly spoken about refusing to accept the election results, his desire to abolish term limits and serve for life, and complete the pillaging of any remaining fragile American public funds for him and his cult of cronies. He does not respect the system. He does not want to do anything for anyone that is not himself. 160,000 and counting needless deaths of American citizens have already happened. Will keep happening.

This is the last time Trump has to face voters. This is the last chance the country has to repudiate his entire poisonous ideology and its marching Nazi minions. IF he steps aside, which is already far from guaranteed, he can ride off into the sunset as a vindicated two term president and probably be rehabilitated like George W. Bush was within a few years of leaving office. American political memory is very short. It will happen. Again, if he even leaves.

RBG is 87 and has cancer again. She will NOT survive another four years. Stephen Breyer is 81. Their seats could both come up in the next four years. The Supreme Court could be a right wing rubber stamp for whatever time we all have left before climate change and coronavirus kill us all.

"But if people just thought for themselves and did their homework and didn't vote the party line like sheep, we could support a third party/write in -- " Stop. Just stop. Attend a ninth grade civics class and learn about how politics work in America. Yes, the two-party system sucks. Yes, the Electoral College is a hot steaming pile of absolute bullshit. Magical unicorn fairy dust fantasies WILL NOT change that.

Do not vote for Kanye (who has pretty much openly admitted he is trying to play spoiler to Biden on behalf of his buddy Trump). Do not vote for godforsaken fucking Gary Johnson or Jill Stein who appear on ballots just to give sanctimonious leftists the illusion of virtue-signaling. If you want any chance of fixing the mess that 2020 has left America and the world in, you need to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. The end.

Biden is a flawed old man who was our last choice, sure. He is also a distinguished public servant who has already been in the White House for eight years under Obama and thus we KNOW what to expect. He is an empathetic man who connects with people's personal tragedy and picked as his running mate a younger Black/biracial woman who directly confronted and called him out on past behavior. While the pundit class was simpering and whining about how it was Disrespectful and how could he consider her, Biden did so, and that speaks well to me of the fact that he is willing to learn, to take criticism, and not just accept it from a former Black female rival, but make her his second in command and the potential first female president of the United States.

Can you EVER picture Trump doing that? Not in eight thousand million years.

As for Kamala, we are all aware of her previous checkered history as a prosecutor (and even then, she did plenty of good things as well!). Since joining the Senate, however, she has consistently become one of its most progressive members. She is the co-sponsor of an economic aid package designed to give every American $2,000/month, backdated to March (the start of the coronavirus pandemic) and continuing at least a few months after its end. A Biden-Harris White House could make that happen. Especially if they are put into office with a Democratic House and Senate (for the love of God, Kentucky, kill Mitch McConnell with fire). That is just one example.

Harris's nomination is obviously historic. And Biden didn't choose another Biden (or another Tim Kaine, the blandest white man imaginable). He chose another Obama: a younger rising star of an immigrant background, a person of color, a former lawyer and someone who represents the diversity of the country that the white supremacists and the Cheeto in Chief have tried to paint as its worst and most degenerate evil.

A vote for Biden and Harris means getting rid not just of Trump, but Mike Pence, Vladimir Putin, Jared Kushner, Betsy Devos, the Trump crony destroying the Postal Service, the rampant coronavirus misinformation and bullshit, the destruction of Social Security and Medicare, the spread of Nazi propaganda from the President's twitter account, the likely two Supreme Court picks that would be as bad as Brett Kavanaugh or worse... on and on. Biden and Harris would be elected by progressive voters and thus answerable to them in 2022 midterms and 2024 general. They can both be, and already have been, pushed further left. They are reasonable and competent adults who have demonstrated experience and compassion. I KNOW about their flaws and past actions I don't agree with. But I'm frankly done with any more counterproductive straw man bitching about This One Bad Thing They Did and how it makes it a terribad awful choice to vote for them. Open your eyes. Look at the alternative. LOOK AT WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOT EVEN AS BAD AS IT COULD STILL GET.

Check your registration or register at vote.gov.

DO NOT LOOK AT POLLS AND DECIDE "EH BIDEN IS CLEARLY GOING TO WIN, I DON'T NEED TO VOTE." THAT IS HOW WE LOST LAST TIME.

Unseating incumbents is HARD. It is even harder when the other side has openly laid out their plan to cheat in great detail, and there is nothing really stopping them from doing it. The only thing, in fact, is massive, unfalsifiable results on an undeniable scale.

So:

Vote.

Vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Thanks a lot.

#hilary for ts #politics for ts #rant #long post #i will be reblogging this periodically as election day nears #haters/trolls will be blocked out of hand

[tessatechaitea]

Superman: Year One: Book Three

Here's the back cover instead because I misread it as "We serve one purpose: Jesus," and I was ready to accept that.

Due to the amount of lava and debris, I would have gone with "sharts."

Superman saves Lois Lane from dying under the ocean which probably means she's going to reward him with her big city sexual prowess. But before Superman can accept his reward for being a nice guy, he has to defeat a troop of Navy SEALS who have come to capture him. So everybody's looking for Superman now because he showed off a few too many times while training in the Navy and his commanding officer became jealous that the mermaids let Clark fuck them. So Superman's big enemies are the god Poseidon and the American military, both because Lori Lemaris chose to fuck Superman instead of them. You might think I'm concentrating too much on Superman fucking the women he saved, and people being upset that they didn't get to fuck those women. If you are thinking that, it's probably because you haven't actually read Frank Miller's Superman: Year One. You'd totally understand that it's not me who is obsessed with Superman getting laid for fighting for truth, justice, and the American Way (honorably discharged version). It's apparently the entire theme of Frank Miller's Superman story. I just realized that I was going to make a Batman sucking Superman dick's joke based on the cover but then I didn't scan the cover. Oh well! Lesson learned! Any time somebody says, "Lesson learned," you should immediately ask them, "Oh? What was that then?" I bet most of the time, they won't be able to explain how they learned anything. The good thing about the cover of Book Three is that it was drawn by Frank Miller. And no matter what you think of Frank Miller's art, you have to agree (or at least better agree or we're going to have a problem) that it's better than John Romita Jr's art and better than Frank Miller's writing. After beating up the Navy SEALS and rescuing Lois Lane, Clark Kent winds up graduating from college and interning at the Daily Planet. Don't ask me what happened to Lori Lemaris and Atlantis! I guess it was such a terrible break-up that even Frank Miller doesn't want to write about it.

You can tell how dumb a person is by how much they defend Trump and blame the mainstream media. The fucking mainstream media bends over backwards not to point out just how fucking ignorant Trump is about everything!

Stepping away from the comic itself for a moment, here's what John Romita Jr had to say about this comic book after it was announced amidst a lot of "eye-rolls and groans" at San Diego Comic-Con. "The cynics that don't like my artwork or Frank's work were everywhere on the social media. Now we'll see what they have to say, because this is damn fresh, and I'm really proud of it." Well, I didn't have anything to say about it before reading it. I even bought it mostly knowing that I wasn't going to enjoy it even though I always hope that I enjoy everything I purchase as entertainment! Why else would I bother if not to hopefully be surprised and elated? Well, let me tell you, I was not surprised nor elated. Superman in the Navy might be fresh but it's also pretty fucking stupid. The whole idea was that Superman would join the Navy so he could see the world? But then he spends his entire time training in California where he learns he doesn't want to kill people after battling pirates in the Pacific waters off of the coast of California? Also he fucks mermaids during that time because why the fuck not? Now imagine reading all of that while looking at John Romita Jr's terrible facial expressions. The announcement of this comic book with this creative team should have garnered a lot more than groans and eye-rolls. There should have been jerking off motions as well. Working at the Daily Planet with Lois Lane (who, if you remember from the part where I said she wants to fuck him, wants to fuck him), Clark Kent realizes he needs a disguise. So Frank Miller makes sure to explain how the hat and glasses work as a disguise. The hat "changes his silhouette" and the glasses are just "the geek factor" he needs. The whole "dress to unimpress" angle is the disguise. Fucking bullshit. We all know that the glasses and the outfit are the least part of the disguise. He needs to discuss how he changes his posture, how he acts clumsy, how he puts on the air of naive farm boy, how he's terrible at pleasing a woman in bed. These are all aspects that work to make it unbelievable that he could be Superman. Christopher Reeves in Superman nails all of these aspects and I wish writers would be more upfront about how Clark Kent's disguise is less about the accouterments and more about the act Clark puts on. Superman begins deciding how to fight crime now that he's come to Metropolis. And his logic goes like this: "What do criminals want? Money! Where is the money? Banks!" And just like that, he becomes the protector of corporate America! He even thinks, "Never mind the third rate muggers and street swindlers." No wonder Batman doesn't respect this asshole! A third rate mugger killed Batman's parents and Superman is all, "Bah, they're harmless! Better get the guys going after the money that's insured!" Fuck this Superman! Next Superman goes after street level drug makers. That's better, I guess, but couldn't he go after the pharmaceutical industry itself?

What the fuck is "factory brand duct tape"? Having managed a warehouse on the Netscape campus back in the 90s, I'd say they should be wrapped in shrink wrap.

This morning, I discovered Carrot Cake flavored Oreos. It was nice living without diabetes but I must say goodbye to those years now. Later, Superman stops a man from abusing his wife and kids. I don't find out if she thanks him with her sex. But from what the previous chapters of this story have taught me, she did. After that, Superman frees some hostages from a hostage situation that was set-up by Lex Luthor so he could meet Superman. Lex manipulates Superman into working for him to stop Batman. Why does Lex care about Gotham and Batman? I don't know! I don't even really know how Lex manipulates Superman! And I don't think it's because I'm too stupid to follow the story. I'm pretty sure I'm smart enough to understand a comic book! But this comic book feels like a bunch of pages are missing. Hell, Superman's first words to Lex Luthor upon meeting him for the first time are "You're a damned liar!" What did he lie about? When did he ever say anything to Superman? What the fuck is going on?! Over in Gotham, Batman uses a gun. Okay. Whatever. Let's wrap this shit up.

Here's a terrible picture of Superman since I can't write about a story I can't follow.

The gist of the rest of the story is that Lex Luthor is tired of Batman and Superman foiling his crimes. So he decides to convince Superman that Batman is a jerk. After they get done killing each other, Lex Luthor will profit. Not that he isn't profiting already. But he'll profit more, I guess? Superman lands in Gotham to speak with Batman and Batman instantly tries to kill him. Oh yeah, Frank Miller totally understands these characters. Batman wants justice but is willing to kill Superman because Superman wants to talk to him. And Superman goes around doing good while constantly thinking, "I'll show them!" and "I could kill these guys!" and "Which other woman should I save so I can fuck her?" Batman tries all kinds of violence on Superman while telling Superman smarts are what counts. If only he'd use some and realize he can't hurt this guy. This might be the dumbest version of Batman I've ever seen. Eventually Wonder Woman arrives to point out to these two blockheads that maybe they should stop fighting and work together to make the world a better place. Batman is all, "Well, I can't hurt him anyway so I guess I'll work with him." And Superman is all, "How is she stronger than me? She doesn't need rescuing from anybody. Has she ever gotten laid?!" The issue basically ends with Wonder Woman telling Superman that she's ready to fuck him after he goes into space to learn to fuck (by fighting Brainiac?) and Batman telling Luthor he hopes he gets raped in prison. So exactly the way I'd expect a Frank Miller Superman comic book to end.

I wish I were right popular in high school.

Superman: Year One: Book Three Rating: What I learned from this comic book is that every woman in the DCU wants to fuck Superman and every man in the DCU is jealous of all the women Superman gets to fuck. What I also learned is that I should have read this series before purchasing Dark Knight Returns: The Golden Child. I'd still like to know what happened between Clark and Lori. I guess he just left her the same way he left Lana and the same way he left Wonder Woman (who he fell in love with immediately, I guess?).

#Superman #Year One #John Romita Jr #Frank Miller #DC Black Label #DC Comics

[itscaptainyoulittlemaggot]

Professor Rogers’ Office (Part Four)

Burdened with a hangover, you and Steve meet Bucky and Natasha for a lunch date that descends into yet more drunkenness, all in the name of becoming more involved in each others’ lives. 

Notes: Professor!Steve x Reader; College AU; Strictly 18+; There’s smut coming in part five. 

Professor Rogers’ Office Masterlist

Steve Rogers Writing Challenge

Saturday morning. Light cracked through the curtains, bathing you both in an obnoxious shade of orange. It was 10AM but you wondered whether sleep had even touched your eyes. 

You and Steve had been up until five, working on the first draft of your research project together. The pair of you had been there since midday, sitting on the floor, backs against the sofa, encircled by research papers and textbooks, notes and more books. Steve was a stickler for writing things out by hand, much to your  annoyance, but he had given you the most beautiful leather bound journal to write your draft in. He reasoned that it would make you think more about every argument, paragraph, line and even every word you put into your work. 

That it did. You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about everything, muttering everything out loud. Everything was assessed by Steve and once he approved of what you were trying to say, you’d neatly note it in the book. It was a slow way of doing things. Not helped by Steve starting to ply you both by whisky by three in the afternoon. But progress was being made. He didn’t distract you any more than he needed to. Steve was helping. Just like he said he would. 

Three sheets to the wind, half a dissertation and two bottles of whisky later, the pair of you collapsed into bed. Steve nodded off instantly, but you just laid there, on your back, staring at the ceiling. 

It felt like you had been doing that for the six hours you had been there. Your brain still wrapped up in a giddy, drunken daze, pondering every glorious detail of the last few weeks. You looked over at Steve, who was still asleep in a cocoon of blankets. ‘So this is what it’s like to have somebody,’ you mused, smiling to yourself. 

It was so foreign but so incredibly comforting. You wondered why you had tried to run from it in the beginning. Now you just let it envelope you. 

You had agreed to start small. Your biggest fear was judgment from those closest to you and Steve. And there were so many inlets in your relationship for that to seep in. So many things people might tell you were wrong. They might tell you the age gap was to wide, or you too naive. Or that you were merely a rebound. So many worries.

But you were both determined to make it work. For that to happen, you had to get your friends on board. You already knew Bucky and Natasha from their wedding. That, according to you both, was starting small.

Setting about planning the day in your mind, how to steer the potential conversations into easy territory, how to get them to like you, fielding what you could remember about the couple… your train of thought quickly derailed as Steve began to stir. 

He draped a heavy arm around your waist and pulled himself into your side. “Do we have to go?” Steve mumbled against your skin. 

You carded your fingers through his hair, laughing to yourself. “Why? You hungover?”

“Yup.”

“Pop a couple painkillers, chug some water and jump in the shower. Moisturise or something. You’ll be fine.”

Steve didn’t speak, instead, he responded by wailing, nuzzling at your skin. You were having none of it.

“This was your idea.”

“Not my best.”

“We’re going.”

What Steve didn’t know was how much you didn’t want to go either.

As it turned out, ‘lunch’ with Bucky and Natasha, meant a completely different thing to them. 

The venue for the meeting was a place called ‘The Raven,’ a small and dingy rock bar on the other side of town specialising in beer, beer and more beer. Not exactly something either of you craved after last night; nor was it the type of place you and Steve would ever frequent. 

Punters, big burly figures in denim vests and bandanas, eyed you both as you scanned the room for Steve’s friends. To them, the pair of you were possibly the nerdiest looking creatures you had ever seen.

You clung to Steve’s arm as you made your way further into the dimly lit room, peeking into each of the booths. Finally, tucked away in the far corner, nursing a stein each, was Bucky and Natasha. Their surroundings fitted them to a tee. 

“Steve!” Bucky beamed, shooting to his feet to hug his friend. He turned his attention to you, giving you a quick look up and down, before hugging you too. “Girl Steve!”

No sooner had your face parted ways with Bucky’s chest but you were being smothered by a mane of red hair and overwhelmed by the scent of Christmas candles and caramel. 

When Natasha was done, she looked up at Bucky. “Look, they even dress the same, how sweet!” she cooed. 

Neither you nor Steve knew how to take that comment; you just glanced at each other and grimaced. 

“Okay, nerds, I’m gonna get a round in, what are you having?” Bucky said, clasping his hands together. 

Steve shook his head. “No, I-I’m good for now, Buck.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and pointed at Steve. “Beer.” Then he pointed at you.

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Beer. Good.”

You, Steve and Natasha took your seats in the red leather booth. She sat opposite you and smirked. 

“Nat, I know that look.”

“I think it’s great you’re getting back on your feet,” she said, reaching over to touch Steve’s arm. “She’s cute.”

Bucky came back to the booth, carrying a tray of steins. Your stomach churned at the thought of having to drink one of those. 

“James, don’t you think they’re cute?” Natasha drawled. 

Bucky paused as he dished out the beers, looking at your and Steve with a furrowed brow. “I guess.”

“You guys definitely make a cute couple, I’m so happy.”

“Is this a joke?” you snapped. 

Natasha was taken aback. Steve and Bucky too. “Why would it be a joke?”

You struggled to form words. Steve put his hand on your arm reassuringly. 

“All I’m saying is that Steve looks happy. I’m happy you’re making my friend happy because god knows Peggy never did,” she said defensively. 

You could feel the embarrassment welling up inside you. Not even ten minutes with these people, you were already making a fool out of yourself. “Sorry,” you said quietly. 

“Never calling you cute again, by the way, point taken,” Natasha joked. 

After that, you zoned out, looking down at your drink. Unsure of what to say, and disgusted by the thought of drinking again to aid you on your way. You let the grown ups have their own conversation, not tuning in or saying a word. 

Then you felt an elbow to your rib. 

You sat bolt upright. “Huh?” 

“Tell ‘em what you do,” Steve said. 

You stumbled your way towards an answer: “Oh, uh… I study history. Modern… European history. German reunification is my main sort of focus with that.”

Bucky and Natasha listened intently, their eyes lighting up as you began talking about your dissertation, even if sounded clinical and matter of fact to you. They were fascinated. 

“And what are you gonna do after college? Are you gonna go to grad school?” Bucky asked.

“No… I don’t really know. I kind of just studied history on a whim because of my parents. It’s not really my passion.”

“Well what is?” Natasha asked.

“I always wanted to be a painter, you know. But my folks always told me I wasn’t good enough for art school, that it wasn’t a viable career, no money in it. But yeah, I might go into high school teaching. Maybe.”

“But if it’s your passion, why not just go for it? Surely being happy is better than pleasing your parents? Right?” Natasha pressed. 

Steve turned to you, “and you’re smart. Really smart. I mean, you could do whatever you wanted.” He faced Bucky and Natasha again. “Did I mention how smart she is? Straight A’s!”

“Yeah that’s because you’re marking all my papers.”

“Sleeping with the teacher, where have I heard that before?” Bucky remarked, settling back into his seat and winking at Steve. 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at Steve. 

His cheeks were scarlet and his hands were over his eyes. Half his beer was gone. “Listen, listen,” he said, attempting to stifle a laugh. “I was B student at best with a BEST FRIEND who constantly got me into all kinds of trouble and precisely zero prospects. There was nothing else I could do!”

“So you fucked… what was her name again?” Bucky continued.

“Professor van Dyne,” Steve admitted. 

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now,” Bucky said, shaking his head. 

The conversation had driven you to take the first sip of your now warm beer.

“I guess what I’m saying is, you have prospects,” Steve concluded, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“So I don’t have to sleep with you anymore? Great, bye!” 

“So are you just naturally smart, or how hard do you have to work?” Natasha asked. 

“Nooooo. Not by a long shot,” you began. “I have to study a lot. It’s a lot of stress. I’ll just be glad when college is over. It’s not for me, really.”

“Really stresses you out, huh?” she said.

“Put it this way: Steve’s probably seen me cry more than my own mother.”

“You know, Steve’s a crybaby too,” Bucky added. 

“Aaaaaaaaand I gotta take a leak,” Steve said. 

Steve excused himself, leaving you alone with his friends. Pressured into talking to them, you asked them what they did for a living. 

“I run a shooting school,” Bucky said proudly. 

“And I teach a self defence class for women in disadvantaged communities.”

“We both used to work in law enforcement,” Bucky added.

“He worked for the NYPD and I was FBI for a while. We had so many run ins on the job, so many pissing contests. But I knew he liked me,” Natasha explained.

“But when we decided we wanted a life together, we just decided to pack it in. Have a simpler life.”

“And we couldn’t be happier,” Natasha concluded, smacking her hand to Bucky’s chest. 

Badass and happy? Steve returned, just as you had concluded that his friends were truly sickening. 

“How did you meet this guy?” you asked, cocking your thumb in Steve’s direction.

Steve flopped down beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “For my sake,” he began, “please give her the non lame version.”

“Please give me the lame version.”

“Well,” Bucky shifted forward in his seat, “Steve was the scrawniest little shit in kindergarten. But he was yappy, like a ratty little dog. Anyway, he was going off on this one rich kid called Stark for taking his favourite fire truck. But Stark beat him up so hard that Stevie crapped his pants. Literally, crapped. His. Pants.”

“And we’re getting the lame version,” Steve interjected. 

“Oh yeah,” Bucky nodded. “So anyway, I see this happening. I was one of the bigger kids in the class, I could take ‘em all. But I don’t like bullies. I go over to Stark in front of everybody, and I pantsed him. Well this guy cried like I’ve never seen. And little Stevie’s just standing there with diarrhoea coming out of his pants.”

“And then what happened,” you asked, feeling bad for Steve. 

“He knew if he stuck with me, he could run his mouth as much as he wanted. Nobody could touch him,” Bucky laughed. “It’s funny when you look back on it. Did you take steroids when you went through puberty, Stevie?”

You saw them funny side now, looking at them both. Steve was taller than Bucky by a good few inches, broader at the shoulders and had a wider chest. He was bigger than him now. 

“He still can’t fight for shit,” Bucky added.

“Can confirm. Can’t beat his way out of a paper bag. Even I can’t help him,” Natasha commented. 

“I don’t like hitting things,” Steve almost whined. 

“Unless it’s in the bedroom,” Natasha remarked. 

“What?”

“Peggy told me a few things. A few things you really really liked.”

“She did have a great ass for it,” Bucky reasoned. 

You zoned out again, to build a picture in your mind of what Natasha was getting at, with you in Peggy’s place, and this time in Steve’s office, just like all of those little covert visits you paid him at the start of the year. You were bent over his desk, underwear bundled around your ankles. And he was standing over you with his thick, tan belt in his hand. Or would he used his own, bare hands? Would you be draped over his thighs? The possibilities were endless. 

You bit your lip just imagining what he’d do to you, hoping that this side of him really did exist, wanting it to be true. 

Grunting. That’s what ripped you away from the painting inside your head. Your eyes quickly focused, homing into the scene in front of you. 

Somehow the debate over who was strongest had descended into an arm wrestling match between Steve and Bucky. They were hovering out of their chairs, elbows firmly placed on the table. Great veins in Bucky’s arm bulged as Steve grappled and fought to best his friend. Eyes closed, teeth clenched. Steve won. 

“Woo! It’s a good day to be a nerd,” he quipped, slicking back a stray strand of hair from his forehead. 

Natasha was completely straight faced, glaring at the men as they sat back down. “Pathetic,” she muttered, before turning her attention back to you, now wearing a smile. “So what do you get up to on weekends?”

“I just study, hang out with my roommate, Wanda, and her girlfriend, Carol. I can’t really do much else right now until I’m done with the semester.”

“You reckon you could take one weekend out?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I guess. Why?”

Part Five

#steve rogers x reader #college au #professor steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

[degrassinc]

Pretending: A Gertchase fic

Okay sooooo I decided to write a gertchase fic based on episode 9 of runaways because I’ve literally watched it everyday since it came out. Anyways this is pretty much just the plot of episode 9 except with gert’s thoughts added and my interpretation of the sex scene since it wasn’t actually shown haha. Anyways I was gonna put this on Ao3 but there’s a waiting list to be able to write?? Lmfao I really never knew that since this is the first thing I’ve actually written so I just decided to put it on here. Hopefully people actually see this and like it soooo anyways let me stop rambling and let y’all read the fic.

“Ah stop, just stop please” I said playfully to Molly before leaving my car. I didn’t want to admit it, but Molly was right. I did do all this for Chase. The dress, the necklace, the makeup. It wasn’t just for a cover story like I had told Molly even though she definitely knew I was lying. I open the doors to the dance and immediately hear the music and see everyone dancing and having a good time. I start walking around to find Chase and there he is. I see him on the stair case, he’s wearing a black suit and looking as handsome as ever. I flash him a slight smile and when he sees me he starts heading towards my direction.

“Can you believe we were ever a part of this?” Chase asks me once we’re within talking distance

“I never really was” I say back to him. And I wasn’t. I was just the purple haired feminist who had no friends. I was never a part of the crowd like Chase was. He was a jock, popular, and was so unbelievably attractive. Basically the total opposite of me.

“What do you mean?” Chase says back to me obviously confused

“You wouldn’t understand” I say to him. Chase was never invisible like I was. He wouldn’t know what it felt like to feel like you’re a nobody. Chase obviously wanting more from me, I continue

“No matter where you go, no matter what you do, people see you. When someone like me walks through the door no one really turns my way”

“Unless I just barfed orange juice onto my shoes” I then add to get rid of some of the awkwardness. I see a slight smile form on Chase’s face

“I remember that”

“That was one day. There were a hundred when you didn’t realize I was standing right next to you” I say to him. All I wanted was for Chase Stein to recognize me and the only time he did was when I happened to make a fool of myself

“What do you care? You thought I was an idiot” He says back to me. I didn’t think you were an idiot Chase, in fact you’re probably the smartest person I know

“I never thought that. I may have said that often and loudly but it was a defense mechanism because (I’m in love with you) I felt ignored” I say to him explaining myself. I then see Chase’s face drop and I turn around to see Eiffel walking into the dance with Brandon. Damn. Chase’s Ex and Ex Friend. Together.

“Well looks like my invisibility’s contagious. And that Brandon stole your life” I say trying to lighten the mood a little.

“He can have it. That life was bullshit. As messed up as things are right now, at least we know the truth. Who our friends are, who our parents are, it might suck, but it’s real” Chase says to me surprisingly. But he was right. Even though I (we) just found out our parents are murderers and seriously messed up I did reconnect with 4 friends who are now practically my family since we’re all going through this together.

“I think the boy just became a man” I then say to Chase jokingly.

“About time I guess, since tonight may be our last night on earth” Chase says reminding me of the whole reason we’re even here at this dance. I can’t believe that this is real. My possible last day living and there are so many things I want to do that I haven’t done. Okay Gert. It’s time to be bold.

“Well if that’s how it is, then I’d like one last dance” I say to Chase before grabbing his hand. I then pull him away from the crowd and we start walking down the hall until I see a door that leads to another hall I bring Chase in and he closes the door behind him. We both start laughing seeing as we just walked in on someone’s previous wedding celebration. Well I wish Zev and Hannah Tannenbaum a very happy marriage. We then go to the middle of the floor and we start slow dancing. I look into his eyes and he looks into mine and just for a split second I forget about everything wrong in this world. Getting a little more comfortable I bring my arms around his shoulders and put my hands on the back of his neck while he puts his hands on my waist. I then lay my head on his chest and I swear it fits perfectly Wow if this really is my last day on earth then I’m happy I got to do this. Dancing with Chase Stein who I’ve loved ever since I knew what love was.

“I always saw you” Chase says bringing me out of my thoughts

“I know you did” I softly say back to him while smiling. I then look up and see Chase looking at me. He starts to lean in and I do the same and once our lips touch I swear it’s like magic. This is all I’ve ever wanted for so long and it’s actually happening right now. His lips are so soft and he is such a good kisser. We continue to kiss and things start heating up. I take off my dress which conveniently just unties like a robe. I then take off his suit jacket and help him with unbuttoning his shirt. Before I know it we’re on the couch almost completely naked and Chase is searching for a condom in his wallet. I then pull one out from my bra to show him and I see Chase smile before continuing to kiss me he starts kissing me on my neck, then on my breasts, then on my stomach, until he finally reaches my panties he slides them off and starts to eat me out until I’m wet enough for penetration and when that finally happens. It was the best feeling in the entire world. Everyone says that your first time is always crappy well everyone lied because this was amazing Chase knew what to do to pleasure me and he made sure I was okay and comfortable every step of the way. After we finished I felt so great. I got up and looked at my phone to see I had 6 missed calls from Molly and texts from everyone in the group.

“Oh crap Chase we have to go” I say to him before starting to get dressed.

“Shit you’re right” He says while also getting dressed himself. So now what. I just lost my virginity to him. Are we gonna talk about it? What does this mean for us. We start walking down the hall just as I’m finishing tying my dress and I see Nico and Karolina in the hall. Looks like I’ve interrupted another moment between them. I can obviously see Nico’s dark lipstick on Karolina and Karolina’s hands are on Nico’s shoulders but Chase and I aren’t any better. My hair is obviously a mess and Chase is fixing his suit jacket.

“We should go” Chase says breaking the awkward silence. Karolina then says “mhm” before wiping the lipstick off her mouth as we all start walking to my car. It’s a silent ride to the construction site and I was secretly hoping that Chase would sit in the front with me but sadly Alex already had shotgun. Once we get there and start walking towards the entrance someone I’m assuming a security guard stops us. Luckily Karolina was able to get us in since apparently the Gibborim Church runs the site now. We all split off to do different things. Nico is keeping watching with her shield, Molly is moving the truck into the hole with Alex and Karolina with her which leaves Chase and I. He then grabs my hand and brings me to this huge control panel that runs everything at the site once we get there he starts tapping random things on the control screen and I have absolutely no clue what he’s doing.

“What is this an on off switch? Cause that’s about all you could manage” I say to him

“Are you mad at me? About what happened between us?” Chase says obviously clueless “What? That we had sex in the middle of the Tannenbaum wedding and didn’t even stop to talk about it or define the relationship?” I say upset

“That was an hour ago! And now we’re trying to prevent California from dropping in the ocean!” He says to me. There is then a quick silence and he continues

“I’m not trying to say what happened wasn’t also important but- “ I stop Chase before he continues

“It was just a one time thing” I say quickly to him no it wasn’t Gert. You know that’s not true

“It was?” Chase then asks

“Of Course. It was hormones. We’re teenagers driven by biological imperative to propagate the species” I say starting off loudly but basically whispering at the end

“Okay well I’m not sure what you just said but come on let’s just focus on the mission” He then says back

Fuck. Did I really just ruin whatever it is between us? I know I was kind of aggressive about talking about us having sex but I just wanted to know. No I need to know that he feels the same way as me. I just don’t want to know I opened myself up to someone like I’ve never done before just to know that it didn’t mean to them what it meant to me so I guess what I’ll have to do now is pretend. Pretend like I have been for the longest time. Pretend that Chase Stein isn’t the love of my life and that he doesn’t make my entire world stop because if the feelings aren’t mutual. I don’t know what I would do.

THE END!!!

Okay so like I said I’m the beginning this is my first time writing so if it’s bad I’m sorry haha. But yeah if you liked it or you wanna give me constructive criticism message me I guess?? Lol I liked writing this and I want to get better

#gertrude yorkes #gert yorkes #chase stein #chase x gert #gert chase #gert x chase #deanoru #runaways #marvels runaways #nico minoru #karolina dean #karolina x nico #nico x karolina #molly hernandez #alex wilder #gertchase #storkes #doomsday #i need people to see this lol #thats why im using a million tags

[sickdaysofficial]

Sickdays 4.0 Day 3 - Made a Mess

Author: @geekysparkle 

Fandom: Soul Eater

Characters: Soul, Maka (a few others but not so relevant)

Setting: Few years into the future since the end of the manga. Kim and Jackie are happy and gay, Ox and Harvar no longer add suffixes to each other’s names and Soul grew taller. 

Summary: The rational part of his brain, though, has no control over his lungs, so he chokes on air like the functional human being he likes to pretend he is and grips the edge of the counter with one hand, knuckles white, to keep himself standing despite the blurring edges of his vision. He should probably sit down before he passes out.

Warnings include my dialogue-writing skills and me having no memory of how anything in Soul Eater works. Mentions of vomit and teeny tiny amounts of blood ahead, sick character(s).

Read the warnings.

Maka’s gonna get so mad is his very first thought as he hears the mug shatter upon impact with the floor. He doesn’t see it, no, as his eyes are screwed shut against the sudden twinge of pain in his chest, but the sound of glass breaking into a million pieces is unmistakable. Burning liquid splatters on his feet, but he barely notices.

For a second his heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest, right through the scar tissue there, because the goddamn scar is definitely the source of the pain. It’s already fading rapidly, but the shock that washed over his entire body and knocked the air out of his lungs still lingers, leaves his vision swimming and head feeling too light. The last time he felt that particular twinge Crona was trashing a laboratory in Moscow under the influence of black blood and he never, never wants to feel anything even remotely like that again and fuck, he can’t breathe–

Of course he can’t, whatever is left of the rational part of his brain reasons. His lungs are already in shit condition even without the surging panic thanks to some weird bug that only seems to be attacking weapons (and one Kim Diehl, although Soul suspects that has something to do with her being a witch and not being able to keep her tongue out of her girlfriend’s throat), merrily leaving all the meisters alone and healthy and full strength despite the close living arrangements most partners share.

The rational part of his brain, though, has no control over his lungs, so he chokes on air like the functional human being he likes to pretend he is and grips the edge of the counter with one hand, knuckles white, to keep himself standing despite the blurring edges of his vision. He should probably sit down before he passes out. His other hand is still clutching his shirt, right over his scar and hammering heart, crumpling and pulling at the fabric with enough force for it to never return to its original state of being again.

Then there’s another twinge jolting through him, shooting lightning-fast from his left shoulder to the opposite hip and his knees give out despite his half-assed attempt to cling to the counter. He crashes to the floor, knees hitting hot tea and glass shards digging into his skin through fabric.

Somehow, he manages to scoot himself over to the kitchen table and away from the mess, only getting a few more fragments into the soles of his bare feet. He has no idea how he does it, and wouldn’t be able to tell later even if asked, but leaning his back against a leg of the table makes breathing easier and that’s all that matters. Passing out and hitting his head on the counter would be a very lame way to die.

Maka finds him there some time later, limbs pulled close to his chest and breath wheezing. The tea on the floor is still warm, not scalding hot anymore but definitely warm, and Soul’s face is pale. Maka is already in the process of hurrying to him, worried because it’s not normal for a person to be sitting still against a leg of a table even when they’re sick and that person is Soul, when she realizes that Soul’s both hands are clenched above what she knows is his scar. So she more scrambles rather than runs the last few steps to her partner.

Soul looks up upon hearing his name in the form of a panicked shout, but there’s a dizzy look in his eyes that worries Maka even further. It’s obvious he still has a fever, and now that she’s close enough she starts noticing other things, too.

The knees of Soul’s pants are torn, and in the rips she can see specks of red not visible on the black fabric. Only his heels are touching the floor, his feet otherwise lifted up and toes curling into the soles, and parts of them look burnt. He’s still clutching his chest, hands fisted in his shirt in a manner that seems almost convulsive rather than voluntary, and Maka doesn’t know if she should touch or not, if she should straight up call for help or not, if she should clean up the mess of glass and tea and blood on the floor first or not.

The need to know wins over and gets prioritized over cleaning. She doesn’t completely forget about calling Dr. Stein, but she figures she should probably at least assess the situation before actually doing that.

So she sets her hand on Soul’s too warm forehead, briefly wondering where she last saw their thermometer, and tries not to be offended when he flinches at the contact. She channels that into worry, too. Of course she knows Soul still doesn’t really know how to be touched in his human form, is still uncomfortable with the sheer concept of physical human contact beyond what’s needed to resonate and fight, but they’ve known each other for years.

And, Maka thinks, Soul saw her touch coming. Which means that he expected it, which in turn means that he should not have flinched because his problem is with unexpected touching.

Which means that even though Soul’s eyes are directed in her general direction, he’s not really looking. Not really seeing. So she focuses on that, hand still on Soul’s uncomfortably warm skin. His eyes look dull, the red color faded into something like rust, or perhaps dried blood, and she was right, he’s not looking at her, he’s just staring nowhere with vacant, dull eyes, and Maka mutters a curse under her breath.

Slowly she moves her hands to rest on Soul’s, still fisted in his shirt. She doesn’t know where Soul’s mind is wandering right now, but she needs to get him back to her so she can help him. Maybe he’s in the Black Room, she briefly thinks, but then, no, no, that doesn’t exist anymore.

Carefully, she starts pushing her Wavelength against Soul’s.

It could be a horrible mistake. It could result in something she doesn’t know how to fix, she could very well end up hurting Soul or herself in the process and dealing with that is very high on the list of Things Maka Albarn Is Not Ready to Deal With.

But that’s only if she pushes too hard, and only if Soul doesn’t push back.

And then, to her relief, Soul blinks. He looks a little confused, but the rust in his eyes seems to clear off. Tentatively, Maka pushes a little harder, just enough to make it noticeable against Soul’s Wavelength.

His eyes widen as he recognizes the familiar feeling of Maka’s Wavelength. He makes a sound somewhere deep in his throat, a some kind of a mix between a grunt and a whine, and weakly starts pushing his Wavelength against Maka’s. He tries to match her, but it’s shaky at best and Maka is certain that were he in his weapon form, her hands would be burning.

Pulling back a bit in an attempt to create a balance, Maka starts slowly prying Soul’s fingers from his shirt. It’s more difficult than she imagined - they’re stiff and frozen in place in the folds of the fabric, but he doesn’t try to fight it. Soul has closed his eyes, probably in order to concentrate, and his breaths are getting deeper. It dawns upon her that up until now, his breathing has been shallow and nearly non-existent, and she briefly berates herself for that, but he’s coming back to himself, to her, so she can ignore that for a little while longer.

When she finally manages to actually take hold of Soul’s hands, his Wavelength is almost steady against hers. It doesn’t feel inherently wrong anymore; more like when he’s upset about something and just needs a minute or two of her being solid and steady. And even though she’s still worried and confused, that’s one thing she can always do.

“Soul?” she finally calls, voice loud in the otherwise silent room despite being barely above a whisper. “What happened?” She’s not entirely sure whether she’s referring to the mess on the floor or the state of her partner when she found him, but she’s going to let Soul decide which question he wants to answer.

“Maka.” His voice is quiet, too, and it’s awfully rough and hoarse and it sounds like it hurts. It’s sounded like that for two days, now, and before that he had no voice at all for another day or two. Not like it had mattered, in any case, because he’d barely had the energy to even sit up. Soul swallows and winces and Maka almost winces in sympathy. He still looks confused, like he isn’t entirely sure himself.

Soul looks around for a bit, as if looking for an answer from his surroundings rather than his memory, and Maka frowns. She doesn’t see any indications of a head trauma, but the confusion is certainly a cause for concern.

“I don’t-” Soul starts, then. “I was making tea,” he mutters as he looks at the broken remnants of a mug on the floor. “Sorry. I broke one of your favorite mugs.” He swallows again and coughs a few times, more to clear his throat than anything else, eyes wandering to their linked hands.

“Don’t worry about the mug, okay?” Maka answers, though she glances at the fragments on the floor again. She can’t quite distinguish which mug it actually is, but she has her suspicions if both she and Soul liked it.

“Just… hey. Tell me what’s wrong,” she urges gently, squeezing Soul’s hands. “Did you get dizzy and drop it?” Maybe if she asks questions like this, only requiring a yes or a no, she’ll get actual answers.

Soul snorts at that. “I’m dizzy all the time right now,” he says, and despite the snort the only thing his tone conveys is exhaustion. “I can be lying down with my eyes closed in the dark and still be dizzy.” He closes his eyes again, and Maka is starting to feel like he’s actually trying to avoid the subject. Her questioning tactics aren’t getting her anywhere, and her patience is starting to wear thin.

Objectively, she knows that Soul is feeling like absolute crap. It takes him longer to think things through, right now, and sometimes it just takes him a moment or two to remember things because his body is effectively trying to boil itself and especially his brain and no amount of fever-reducers, cold packs or sleep seem to be helping - according to Stein, this whatever should just run its course as long as the symptoms are manageable (she knows that Harvar has been in the infirmary for the past two days because his fever had spiked dangerously and he hadn’t been able to keep anything down and Ox has been beside himself with worry).

She also knows Soul sucks at lying to her, and she’s able to detect the clear signs of avoidance. It’s more difficult because Soul’s behavior is less predictable when he’s sick, but the way he avoids looking at her and mumbles through his sentences is a familiar yet irritating habit that Maka picks up on quite fast.

Her eyes land on the crumpled fabric of Soul’s shirt and she feels cold horror wash over her.

“Soul,” she starts again, trying to keep her voice level. “Is there something wrong with the scar?”

Soul’s eyes fly open and he sucks in a breath, his brain not catching up quick enough to stop the reaction from giving himself away. Maka doesn’t have the time to make anything out of it, though, no time to process the fact that there’s something wrong enough with the old scar to make Soul freak out this bad and force himself to hide it from her, because that one breath rattles something in Soul’s chest and then he’s coughing and choking, barely managing to breathe in between.

With more force than necessary, Maka pries their hands apart in order to get at least one hand on Soul’s back behind his suffering lungs. Her other hand gets quickly occupied with keeping Soul in a sitting position as he slumps against her, hand gripping her wrist so tight it hurts but she doesn’t care because the look on his face, beyond the pain, screams panic and hell, if crushing her wrist is what Soul needs to calm down, Maka is willing to let that happen.

The fit goes on for minutes, and all Maka can do is try to make it a little easier for him. It’s scary, terrifying even, to be able to do so little to help her partner, and the panic in Soul’s eyes is making itself known in her chest, too.

After way, way too many minutes in Maka’s opinion, Soul finally takes a proper, though shuddering breath. He’s slumped against her, shoulder digging just below her collarbone and one hand still gripping her wrist, but even though it’s raspy and sounds horrible, he’s breathing again and Maka allows her own shoulders to slump in relief. She continues massaging Soul’s back through three layers of fabric - a t-shirt, a cardigan and a light blanket - and briefly wonders if she really should just take him to the school infirmary.

Soul’s breathing is ragged and labored, and his eyes are closed. She’s not entirely sure when that happened, but they’re not tightly screwed shut, from what she can see from this angle. He’s starting to shiver against her, too, free hand weakly tugging at the edge of the blanket to pull it closer.

“Soul?” she asks again, wondering when this afternoon decided to become a nightmare. She still has those, sometimes, about Soul dying in her arms that night in Italy, about madness overtaking him and never subsiding, about blood freely cascading down pale skin. Soul wakes up either screaming or vomiting or both more often than she does, though, but Maka has no definite knowledge of what her partner dreams of.

“Soul, hey, how about we move you to the couch?” She nudges his arm a little, but gets no reaction. Soul still sounds like he’s run a marathon at full speed. “You’ll get to lie down and I’ll get you another blanket and some tea, yeah?”

There’s a small noise from Soul which could be taken as some form of affirmation, but he doesn’t move. Maka isn’t really surprised at that - after all, he must be beyond exhausted. “I know you’d rather pass out right here, but I promise you’ll feel even worse when you wake up if you do that.”

At that, Soul sighs and slowly detaches his death grip. The act of opening his eyes looks like it’s way harder than it should be by all logical accounts, but he does it anyway.

“Hey there,” Maka greets with a soft smile. “Are you ready to try standing up?”

Soul swallows. “‘ave to,” he croaks, and Maka doesn’t know if it’s resignation or a question, but she takes Soul’s hands and slowly stands up herself.

It looks like Soul has no sense of balance left. Just dragging him up is difficult thanks to his superior height and weight, and the general shakiness does nothing to help. Maka still doesn’t know when exactly Soul outgrew her that badly, but he is now a proper head taller than she is and even though he’s lean, muscle is muscle and she might be strong but she’s also fairly sure the only person she knows who has no trouble lifting Soul at all is Black☆Star. Soul staggers on his feet and even though he does try, Maka is supporting most of his weight.

He drops to the couch bonelessly the second they reach it, hands already fumbling to cocoon himself in the blanket. Maka sets out to find their thermometer before doing anything else. She eventually locates it in Soul’s room.

Briefly she thinks she should do something about Soul’s knees, at least pick the shards out and clean them, but that would require Soul’s cooperation and she decides to wait until he’s a bit more coherent. What she does do is wet a couple of rags in cold water and place them on his forehead and the burns on his feet. The soles of his feet have couple of shards, too, but none have penetrated his skin so she just picks them out and moves to the kitchen.

The tea on the floor has cooled down by now, but it’s still everywhere as liquid tends to do when spilled. There are several bigger pieces of the broken mug closer to the counter, and Maka recognizes it as the scythe-patterned one Soul got for her for Christmas two years ago as a half-joke (only half, because they both like it way too much for it to be a full-fledged joke). Before she starts cleaning, the fills the electric kettle with water and clicks it on.

By the time she’s done with the cleaning and the tea, Soul’s breathing has returned to what it was yesterday instead of the ragged mess it was earlier. He seems to have calmed down, too, no longer actively panicking and not as dazed as before. Now he just looks like a regular sick person who needs more sleep.

Maka didn’t look at the time when she stuck the thermometer in Soul’s mouth, but she estimates it’s been enough time for it to reach a conclusion. She sets the tea on the table for a moment to pluck the device out while Soul watches him quite intently, eyes trained on her face.

She frowns and sighs. “Soul, do you want to go to the infirmary? Because your fever is at 103.7 for the third day in a row and you can’t stand up on your own.” She allows all the concern she’s feeling to seep into her voice, not seeing the point in trying to hide it.

Because she knows her partner, she’s expecting outright refusal. She’s almost hoping for it, because even though Soul is stubborn, he also knows when it’s time to stop and if he doesn’t want to go, it’s because he doesn’t see a reason for it. However, the way Soul glances at his chest with an uneasy look in his eyes makes fear grip Maka’s heart again and she knows the answer before he even opens his mouth.

“I think–” he starts, then clears his throat. “I think I should probably go.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and he’s frowning. “There’s something wrong with the scar. I don’t know why but it suddenly started hurting and I, I don’t know.” He turns his eyes back to Maka, and although there’s no panic, there’s definitely uncertainty and fear. “I need to know what’s wrong with it.”

Maka understands the feeling. She helps Soul sit up, grabs another blanket for him and leaves him to sip his tea as she goes to call Dr. Stein.

Stein’s voice sounds impossibly tired over the phone, but he promises to send somebody to get Soul to the infirmary from their apartment.

XxX

“Several other students have reported their old wounds and scars twinging in the past few days,” Stein mutters as he leafs through a stack of papers in his hands. “So I wouldn’t be too worried about that, but considering the nature of yours I think it’d be better to keep you here overnight.” He sets the papers on the desk next to him and Maka notices the dark circles under his eyes. She has taken note of them before, too, and according to her father the doctor is a perpetual insomniac, but at the moment they look way more pronounced that what she’s used to.

Soul is swaying where he sits, and Stein seems to notice this too. He offers a tired, lopsided smile and stands up, easily lifting the weapon on his feet and quickly ushering him forward. Maka trails behind them, unsure of what she should do.

“Let’s find you an unoccupied bed, then. I’ll give you a full examination in just a minute.”

Looking around, Maka spots three NOT class meisters around, and in the corner of the room she sees Ox sitting next to a bed. The other meister looks tired and his hair seems to be drooping a little. Deciding that she can’t do nothing for Soul while Stein is getting him situated, she instead turns on her heels and makes her way to her classmate.

Ox looks up in surprise when she greets him quietly, but he offers a tired greeting in return. His partner seems to be asleep in the bed, white sheets accentuating how pale he is and the IV drip next to him telling Maka that Soul is actually in a pretty good condition. Harvar doesn’t have his glasses on and his hair is splayed around his head like a black halo, and suddenly Maka feels like she shouldn’t be seeing this.

“How is he?” She turns her gaze back to Ox who is still looking at Harvar.

“Better,” he sighs. “He woke up earlier today and his fever isn’t at a hundred and seven anymore.” He looks at her briefly, but with the thick glasses covering his eyes Maka has never been able to tell what Ox is thinking or feeling. “I hope Soul-kun isn’t in quite as bad a condition as Harvar was a few days ago,” he says.

“I don’t think you should be worrying about other weapons,” says Maka. “You look like you haven’t slept in days. But thanks,” she smiles. “Doc wants to keep him overnight to be safe, but he mostly drinks tea and sleeps.”

“If the infirmary wasn’t so full, I’d be sleeping here,” Ox grumbles, the tone quite uncharacteristic for him; it’s something Maka would associate with Harvar rather than the meister. “I think Dr. Stein is running on fumes, too,” he adds quietly.

“At least there’s someone helping him,” Maka answers, gesturing towards the NOT meisters. “I’m guessing Naigus-sensei can’t really be here at the moment, with so many sick weapons around.”

“That’s true,” Ox admits. “Hey, have you been to class in the past few days?” The change of topic is swift and expected - school has, after all, always been something they’ve had in common.

“Yeah. It’s been pretty empty with literally half the class absent and Dr. Stein here, though.” Maka finds it easy to talk about normal everyday things, easier than the worrying topic of half the school being out of commission.

So she tells him about the few new things they’ve been introduced to, though she doubts Ox isn’t already familiar with the new topics. “We’ve mostly been doing reading, though,” Maka recalls. “Hey, I could give you a list of chapters we’ve been going through when I come by tomorrow,” she offers, and finds delight in the way Ox’s face lights up at that.

“You could? That would be really great!” He’s practically beaming at her, now. “Harvar would be grateful, too.”

Maka smiles back, already writing the list in her head. A few years ago she would have given him a fake list, and maybe she still could as a prank, but considering the circumstances of his absence it would be just mean and childish. And very unfair to their academic rivalry. She wants to beat him when he’s prepared just as well as she has.

They let a silence fall over them, Ox sitting down and Maka leaning on the wall next to him. There’s nothing uncomfortable in it, thankfully.

Eventually, Ox lets out a heavy sigh and slumps a little into himself. “I feel kind of guilty for skipping school like this,” he confesses quietly. “Especially since you’ve still been there.”

“My partner hasn’t been in a virtual coma for two days,” she reminds gently. “And it’s not like you’re the only meister absent, either.”

“Yeah.” The word is more of an exhale than an actual word, but it carries a slight sense of relief. “He’ll be pissed when he finds out that I’ve been skipping school because of him, though,” Ox says, nodding towards Harvar’s sleeping form and letting out a short, humorless laugh.

“I think he’ll be more pissed about you ditching sleep because of him.” That gets her a wry smile.

“Probably.” Ox moves to lift his glasses, though the movement seems to be more for the sake of moving than his glasses sliding down. “I just didn’t want him waking up in an unfamiliar place without a friendly face around. We end up here a lot less often than you guys.”

Maka can’t help but laugh at the last statement. It’s true, of course - she remembers when one of her team would be in the infirmary on almost a weekly basis. It feels good to laugh rather than to worry even for a brief second, and the teasing edge in Ox’s voice makes her glad to have talked to him.

A moment later there’s a groan from the bed, and Ox nearly falls off the chair he’s occupying in his hurry to scramble for his partner. Harvar’s eyes flutter open just as Ox manages to take his hand, and Maka takes this as her cue to leave.

She’s barely past the bed when she hears Ox speaking, clearly to her and not his obviously disoriented partner.

“It’s been a few days since I last had an intellectual conversation,” he says, in a way that tells her he appreciates it. “I’ll be waiting for that list, then.”

“Get some sleep,” is Maka’s only answer to that, besides the wave she throws over her shoulder.

Soul is already asleep when she finds his bed, but she sits down beside him anyway. He looks paler in the bright lights of the infirmary than he did in the warm lighting of their home, but his forehead is free of creases and he doesn’t look like he’s in pain.

“You idiot,” she mumbles, smoothing his hair off his face. “Next time wait for me to come home instead of trying to make yourself anything when you’re sick.”

#vomit tw #blood #fever #panic tw #kinda??? #ehhh we'll put it there #january 30 2018 #sickdays 4.0 #submission

[razzmatash]

Ghosts (the arcana)

Pairing: Julian x mc

Word Count: 3503

Ao3 Link

Summary: It's been a few days since the talk on the docks and it's going as well as Julian expects. But he didn't expect to see her again so soon.

Note: This was supposed to be a quick one shot and like everything I write it exploded beyond what I was expecting. Bronwynn belongs to the ever amazing @juuneaux and thanks for always letting me play with your babs, Luci. Even if Veera did hurt her feelings not believing her D:

             Staring down into his drink, Julian pursed his lips as he swirled the alcohol around. And around. So much for not thinking about it. Drinking wasn’t exactly the best escape since the curse meant he recovered from whatever drunken buzz he attempted before it completely took hold. But he’d wanted to try, again, to see if this time was different. He knew it wouldn’t be, but he was desperate to do anything to quell the ache inside him. The ache he had caused.

           His mouth twisted and he took another drink. He’d made the only choice he had, the right one. But it wasn’t exactly easy. It wasn’t easy to walk away from the woman who had so easily integrated into his routine in a handful of encounters. He didn’t even understand how that had happened. Veera had only come into his life, what, three, four days ago? Or rather he had crashed into hers, breaking into her shop not once but twice. Although was it really breaking in if he’d had a key?

           Oh, the look on her face when he’d put that key in her hand. The little line that had formed between her brows as she’d stared at it, the downward tilt to her mouth as she’d compared it to the one on her key ring. They’d both given way to a wry smile when he’d tried to get around her to leave and she’d shifted slightly, just enough to make it hard not to bump into her. Which he had, not on purpose…maybe a little on purpose.

           Groaning, he set the stein down and pushed his hands against his face. The heel of one palm dug into his eye, making stars burst across it. Why? Why did everything keep coming back to her? Was it because he still saw her in the market and couldn’t go to her? Was it because the polite smile on her face when their eyes met wasn’t anything like the broad grin she’d given him so many times? Was it because he’d brought this pain on himself and wanted nothing to do with it?

           “Ilya, stop.”

           His hands were gently tugged away from his face and he blinked to try to clear his gaze. Not that it mattered, he knew who it was. “Mazelinka,” he rasped, “game not going well?”

           “If you’d been paying attention, you’d know I wasn’t playing tonight.”

           His eye was finally clear enough for him to see the older woman as she stood beside his table. But that didn’t make him feel any better. If she wasn’t playing, it meant she was still keeping an eye on him. He hadn’t asked her to but she’d been doing it since he’d come to her home that night, unwilling to talk about what had happened. She’d figured it out anyways when Veera hadn’t come back with him over the last few days and his mood hadn’t improved much.

           “Don’t,” she said before he could even say anything. “Ilya, don’t. You’re doing yourself no favours doing this.”

           Julian sighed and lifted his drink to finish it. They’d already had this conversation, several times, and it ended the same way. “I’m not doing her any favours being in her life,” he said lowly. “This is better.”

           “For who?” Mazelinka demanded, taking the cup from him as he kept staring at it. “You’re a miserable wreck without her.”

           “I was a miserable wreck before I ever met her,” he countered.

           He could feel the weight of her stare without even looking up. “Ilya.”

           “No,” he said, finally raising his head. “I’ve made my decision.”

           “In haste,” she stressed. “You said it yourself, you haven’t felt as at ease around anyone in years. You can’t throw all of that away on an if that may never come to pass.”

           If there was one thing Mazelinka excelled in, it was getting him to tell her things he didn’t mean to. Like nearly all of the conversation he’d had with Veera on the dock. It was private and personal and she knew every word he’d said. “I will hurt her.” And hate myself all the more for it when it happens.

           She stared hard at him for another long moment. “Haven’t you already?” she asked before walking away with his cup in hand.

           That was not something he wanted to think about. He’d seen the shock on her face that she’d swiftly covered when he’d finally told her what he’d been trying to all day. It had been the only indication that he had truly caught her off guard and…. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself, shoving his hands through his hair. He was a fool if he thought he hadn’t hurt her walking away like he had.

           But she hadn’t let him see it. She’d gone along with him, only asking for a bit more time with him that he’d been helpless to deny. How could he when he didn’t want to actually walk away from her? Everything in him had screamed for one more, to have another kiss or touch or something that would last him through the long nights to come. So he’d taken what she’d offered before he’d realised that unless he stopped, neither of them were ever going to leave that dock. But even if she’d hidden it well, even if she hadn’t pushed back, he knew he’d hurt her.

           Grinding his teeth, Julian flopped back in the seat and stared at the ceiling. This was going about as well as he’d expected but he’d hoped…. No. Hope was foolish in this situation, in his situation.

           He jumped when something thumped onto the table and stared at Mazelinka. A flush rose on his skin as he saw the tankard, refilled, before him. “You don’t have to take care of me,” he said quietly.

           “Someone has to,” she huffed, patting his shoulder.

           Julian slumped into himself as she walked away. He didn’t want someone to take care of him. He was an adult and perfectly capable of doing that himself. Even if it didn’t seem like it at times. He was fine. He would be fine. He had to be fine.

           The door of the tavern opened noisily but when the barkeep called out a greeting what tension had crept between his shoulders faded. No need for alarm. Not about that at least. Everything else in his life?

           He reached for his drink, shaking his head. No. He’d come here for a reason. Vesuvia was the best place to find Asra and the only place he was going to get answers. If he could focus, he’d be able to get back on track and-

           Blinking as his cup was snatched from his hand, a weird sense of déjà vu swept over Julian as a blur of bright colours settled across the booth from him. He heard the rapid drinking, the heavy sigh that followed, but he didn’t look up. The colours might have been a blur but the telltale jingle of a bracelet told him exactly who was there. “...Veera?” he asked slowly.

           She hummed and he heard her drink again.

           He peeked up through his hair and felt his heart thump. Maybe it was his heart. It might have been his stomach bottoming out at the sight of her. Which was silly. He’d seen her plenty of times and he couldn’t really see her, not with both of her hands wrapped around the stein and the bottom of the cup blocking her face.

           Definitely his heart, he realised as she dropped the now empty mug down to the table and inhaled deeply. “Fuck,” she said, “I didn’t mean to finish it. I’m sorry. I’ll get you another one.”

           “What are you doing here?”

           She froze on the seat and looked at him, not at all helping whatever was happening inside his chest. They hadn’t been this close since that night. He’d only seen her across the market or at a distance and she was close enough he could see the dark freckles on her skin. He’d counted them while she’d dozed beside him, mapping imaginary constellations and-“I needed to talk to you,” Veera said, snapping him out of the memory.

           “Me?” he asked, frowning. “Why me?”

           Her tongue snaked across her lips but the way her gaze darted away diminished whatever he might have felt seeing it. “Because.”

           “That isn’t an answer, Veera.” Julian sighed, leaning back in the booth in a vain attempt to put some distance between the two of them.

           She still didn’t look at him, pushing out her cheeks before she seemed to deflate. “Look,” she said quietly, “I know you said we were over and I’m respecting that as best I can but right now...you’re the only one I can talk to about this to make it make sense.”

           That couldn’t be true. She had everyone at the palace practically at her beck and call and he’d heard rumours that Asra was back. She could have talked to any of them yet she was coming to him? “You haven’t even said what it is you want to talk about.”

           A long, uneasy noise left her and she looked down at the cup. “I don’t know if I’m drunk enough to talk about it seriously,” she muttered, pushing out of the booth.

           Julian watched her walk toward the bar, remembering the apprehension on her face the first time they’d been here together. She didn’t show any of it now, winding through the crowd like she came here every night. But something was off about her. Every other time he’d seen her fresh from the palace, she’d been full of life and shining. Not this time. She was on edge.

           A small part of him knew he should leave. Being around her wasn’t going to be good for his resolve. Even this short time was causing his heart to dance frantically behind his ribs, the ache he’d felt over the last few days shifting into a new one. No, the old one he’d gotten when he’d seen her. This wasn’t good. He knew every exit out of the Raven. He could be gone before she even knew he’d stood up. He should go. He needed to go.

           He didn’t budge as he watched her stand on the tips of her toes to point at a bottle behind the bar, laughing at something the barkeep said. No. She’d sought him out for a reason and he needed to know what it was. This wouldn’t change anything.

           He stayed silent as she came back to the table, two steins in hand. Accepting the one she held out to him, he watched her as she sat across from him. “What’s going on, Veera?” he asked when she drained half of hers immediately. “Why come to me?”

           She licked her lips again and blinked at him. “Because you’re a doctor, a man of science.”

           Was this some kind of medical issue? He couldn’t help the quick look, the fast search for some sign of what was wrong. But other than the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, she seemed as healthy as ever. “Are you sick?” he asked anyways.

           “No,” she said slowly. “It’s more the science part that I’m interested in right now.”

           “Because?” Julian prompted when she fell silent.

           Her nose wrinkled and she drank again.

           Reaching across the table, he took the mug from her, ignoring her protesting squawk. “Veera, ask your question.”

           That line was back between her brows and he saw her lower lip start to push out in a pout. The look vanished with a huff as she shook her head. “I didn’t believe Bronwynn when she told me,” she muttered. “It was stupid. It couldn’t be real. They aren’t real. I know they aren’t. They can’t be. But now I’m not sure and everyone I know knows too much about magic, about all the weird shit in life so I can’t trust them to give me an honest answer about this.”

           Julian tried not to gawk at her. She might have started with a mutter but her voice had gotten louder and faster the more she’d talked. Not that she’d made much sense or told him what she was even talking about. “Veera, my dear, you’re not making sense.”

           She frowned at him. “Are you supposed to call me that anymore?”

           He tensed but forced himself to relax. “It’s nothing special.” No! That wasn’t what he’d meant and he realised his mistake when he saw her pull back a little, blinking. “That’s not-Veera, wait, listen-”

           “No, that’s not why I’m here,” she cut in, waving her hand dismissively. “You made yourself clear and I’m muddling everything up. Or maybe that’s the alcohol. I don’t know. But it’s not important.”

           Except it was because she was special and important. But he bit his tongue to keep from saying that.

           Dragging her hands down her face, she groaned before dropping them on the table and leaning forward. “Look, science is about facts, right? About what we can see and know, right?”

           “Ah, more or less, yes.”

           “So if there’s not a logical explanation for something, it’s not real?”

           “There’s no logical explanation for magic yet that’s real.”

           “Julian, no, that’s not helping,” she said, shaking her head.

           “Fine, it’s about facts. Are you going to tell me what this conversation is about?”

           “Ghosts aren’t real, are they?”

           It was his turn to pull away again and he smacked into the back of the booth at the harsh motion. A small hiss left him as a muscle voiced its opinion on that but he waved Veera’s concern aside as she stared at him with big eyes. “Ghosts?” he asked, keeping his voice steady. “You came down from the palace to a tavern on the other side of town to ask me about ghosts?”

           “Bronwynn and Asra will just say that they’re real! They can’t be real! They can’t be!”

           Was that...panic in her voice? “Of course he’d say they were real.”

           Somehow her eyes got bigger. “You think they’re real? But you’re a doctor! What about what science says?”

           That was definitely panic. “I never said I think that they’re real, I am a doctor, and science would prove they don’t exist.”

           She shook her head. “No, no, no. You weren’t supposed to think they’re real because then they’re probably real and I can deal with a lot of things but not that.”

           “Veera, you have magic,” he stressed. “Ghosts shouldn’t bother you.”

           She gaped at him before making a garbled sound. “Excuse me? I’m supposed to just be okay with creepy, beyond the grave things coming into my life? Because I have magic? Where does it say that I’m supposed to be okay with any of that?”

           Not the right thing to say. Again. “I meant you shouldn’t have a problem with them in that you can deal with them.”

           “You do think they’re real!”

           “Shh!” he said when she practically wailed it. “Veera, what is going on? Why would ghosts even matter right now?”

           “There’s one in the palace!” she said, leaning further over her hands and staring at him. “I hadn’t seen it but Bronwynn did. That first night I came here. Not that I came here on purpose. I only did because you pulled me out of that barrel, thank you by the way. I don’t know if I said that. But the dogs were gone so she went up and she saw the ghost or heard it or something I don’t remember. I didn’t want to listen to her. Ghosts weren’t supposed to be real and Bronwynn is strange sometimes. I thought she might have just been pulling my chain. But she wasn’t because I saw it!”

           Julian rubbed his temples, trying to pick words out of what she had just said. She’d mentioned Bronwynn before, a healer brought in a year ago to treat some illness the Countess had had and someone that had become a friend. Their first night at the tavern and thanks he didn’t need. Then...ghosts and seeing them?

           “I didn’t want to see it. I don’t even want to think about it but it won’t go away now. I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes and I don’t want to. I don’t want it to be real.”

           His hands fell, reaching across the table to grip her wrists. “Breathe, Veera,” he told her. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t.”

           Her breaths kept coming in fast hiccups, small gulps of air that weren’t helping her. He held onto her, keeping his own breathing as steady as he could and waiting for her to mimic him. It was impossible to ignore the trembles he could feel running through her now that he was touching her. His thumbs made small circles against her, trying to soothe her in any way he could.

           It took longer than he expected for her to take a normal breath. Then another. Her shoulders sank and her gaze fell to the table but she continued to breathe at a better rate. “Julian, please, tell me ghosts aren’t real,” she pleaded weakly.

           He would have given anything to tell her the lie she desperately wanted but…. “We both know they are.”

           A shudder wracked her and she pulled her arms away from him to wrap them around herself. “Shit,” she whispered.

           Leaning back, he watched her process that and took a drink. He’d tried not to entertain the thought of what their first conversation would be after that last one but this was…. “Veera, I’m sorry.”

           “It’s not your fault,” she sighed. “I mean, you didn’t make the goat ghost.”

           Julian blinked, pulling back further. “What?”

           “Is that even right?” she muttered, frowning at the table. “Is it a ghost goat? Goat ghost? Just a ghost in the shape of a goat? Who’d even want to be a goat?”

           Coldness crept over Julian, leaching the warmth from him every time she said goat. It spread through his chest and made him tremble this time. “A goat?” he pushed out. “This ghost you’re seeing is shaped like a goat?”

           “That sounds stupid now that I hear it,” she said, wrinkling her nose again. “But...yes?”

           Don’t react. It isn’t real. It can’t be real.

           “It walks on two legs and talks so it’s not really a goat,” she continued. “It’s missing its right arm. Wait, goats don’t have arms. But it’s missing that...appendage?”

           His breath wheezed out of him and Veera’s head snapped up.

           “Julian?”

           “What else?” he pushed out. Don’t say it. Do not say it.

           Her eyes darted over his face before she whispered, “If it’s really real...it’s probably the ghost of Count Lucio.”

           “Ghosts aren’t real.”

           Veera blinked at him and heat filled his face. The words had slipped out of him, an automatic response to what she had said. “Julian?”

           He shook his head, planting his hands on the table and telling himself his legs weren’t shaking as he pushed himself up. She was still staring at him, hurt and confusion joining the surprise. “Lucio is dead, Veera. Beyond the shadow his memory still casts on the city and my life, he’s gone,” he insisted.

           “But you just….”

           “You’re right. Science is about facts and there are no facts proving that ghosts are real.”

           “You said they were,” Veera said in a small voice.

           “The alcohol,” he lied, hating the words as they slipped off his tongue. “Magic can make you see a lot of things, Veera. Not all of it is actually there.”

           “Julian,” she protested, starting to push out of her seat as he took a step away.

           “No, Veera.” His voice trembled a little when she stopped. “It was good to see you but you shouldn’t have come here.”

           She sank back into the booth, not saying anything and the hurt in her eyes gutted him.

           It took everything in him to walk away, to not turn back and tell her he was sorry. He didn’t mean it. It was a lie. He’d encountered things science couldn’t explain more than once, even if he tried not to think about them. He knew that ghosts were a very real possibility but this one?

           He stumbled into the alley beside the tavern, going deep enough that he wouldn’t be easy to see. Slumping back against the wall, he pressed a hand to his mouth. He didn’t know whether he wanted to scream or laugh hysterically. Lucio’s ghost? Of all the things...of course he wouldn’t stay dead. He couldn’t ever do anything that someone wanted him to. And wasn’t it fitting that he came back as the damn goat.

           Sinking to the cobblestones, he choked on the noise-definitely a scream-that tried to leave him and curled into himself. He could forget about the ghost, Lucio, for now but that look on Veera’s face before he walked away was going to haunt him.

#the arcana game #julian devorak #julian x mc #julian x apprentice #fan apprentice #veera #mazelinka #my writing #fanfiction #post dock talk

[disregardcanon]

in honor of my sapphic marathon, here is the “ Iris West becomes a legend, has a fling with Sara Lance, and saves herself and Barry from Savitar” fic that i abandoned forever ago. 

i’ve been talking about this fic i never finished for a month (because it’s literally been a month since i wrote most of this thing). i was really mad at barry in between the episode where they Broke up and the musical episode, and i always deal with that by shipping the character’s love interest with someone else to spite them. 

it evolved into more of a temporary deal than the hard and fast “iris joins the legends FOREVER” that it was when i started, but i just lost so much momentum after the musical episode fixed everything that i couldn’t fix this up to be ao3 material. hope that you guys enjoy it here. 

implied atomwave because reasons 

"You want to join us?" "Temporarily," Iris says, "I just need a break." "We ain't a cruise service," Mick says. "What Mr. Rory means to say is that what we do is dangerous," Rip says. "We can’t just pick up tourists, Miss West”  "I'm going to die in two months at home," Iris says, "I'm not looking for a luxury vacation, I just want a break." 

“A break?” Rip says, “I’m not sure that this is the place for you.” 

"I want to make a difference somewhere," Iris says, "and if I can figure out how to save myself." She shrugs. Sara nods. She likes what Iris is saying. "Alright Iris," Sara says, "welcome to the Legends." "Get out of my way, dimples," Mick fucking Rory tells her. "Aw, he gave you a nickname already," Ray says, "that means he likes you." "Do not," Mick says. "Uh huh." "I don't like any of ya." "None of us, huh,” which almost sounds like Ray’s prompting a response. Mick rolls his eyes at that.  "You know I like you." Then he pauses, and looks thoughtful for a second.  "Sometimes," Mick says as he walks out of the room. "He likes you," Ray promises, "I'm his partner, I know these things." then he follows Mick out of the room. Iris sends Jax a confused look. "Wait, are those two-" "No one knows what those two are," Jax says, "we stopped asking months ago." That explains absolutely nothing. "Do you have any self defense experience?" "'Not much. I wanted to be a cop when I was younger," Iris says, "but my dad talked me out of it. I don't know how to defend myself, to be honest." "I mean, I'm pretty good with a gun, but without a weapon I'm useless." So Sara Lance teaches Iris self defense. Sara wishes that she'd met Iris earlier in life, when she was less fucked up and Iris was less tied down. She thinks that she could have loved her, before the League. Before Nyssa and dying and whatever the hell she felt for Snart. Iris is exactly the sort of girl she'd have fallen for back then. Iris fits right in with the legends. She takes her journalistic skills into the field and helps solve crimes with her deduction and interpersonal skills, and she writes accounts of all of their trips and gets interviews with people, normal civilians and people of historical significance. She and Nate have a blast working on the historical archives and updating them and figuring out which bits are wrong or right. "It's just frustrating, you know? I know he's just trying to protect me, but I'm not just a damsel in distress. This was bullshit back when Spider-Man did it." Sara cracks a smile. "It never works. The bad guy doesn't forget that person's important to them, and it just makes everyone unhappy." "I know," Iris says, "that's what I keep telling myself." Then her look darkens a bit. "What is it?" "It's nothing," she says in a voice that lets Sara knows it's definitely not nothing. "Iris." "It's just," Iris says, her voice losing confidence, taking on a weird half joking half nervous tons, "I just, I've been thinking that he doesn't even love me anymore." "Iris-" And one thing leads to another and they're in bed, and Iris is freaking out because does it count as cheating if you're broken up and you’re pretty sure you’ll get back together but you don’t KNOW and Sara's like we can stop if you want, we don't have to keep going but Iris kisses her and then the world falls into place. Sara eventually looks into Iris's future. She knows that Iris is avoiding it, and that she thinks she can find a solution if she avoids it long enough. Sara runs through every scenario, and they all end the same. In every version of reality, she dies. Iris West dies, and then the Flash rushes into a hapless, rage-blind fight with Savitar. He dies too, and Kid Flash takes up his mantle. Iris walks in on Sara replaying it. "Oh my god," Iris whispers.   "Iris," Sara says gently. "Is that the future, right now?" Iris asks. Sara nods her head. "What if I change something?" Iris asks, "what if I came back in October or something?" "It's the same in every version, Iris, no matter what you do. No matter when you come back." "Every version?" Iris asks, voice hollow. "Yes," Sara says, "every version." "What if I never went back?" Iris suggests, frantically. "We both know you don't want that." Iris has carved herself a place with the legends, but she doesn't need it. She has family and friends and a fiancé to get back to, and that's not even mentioning her career. The rest of the legends have little to nothing to come back to, but Iris left a full life behind her. Sara won't let her give it up, no matter how much they all want her to stay. "We'll figure out something, I promise," Sara tells her. "The spear of destiny," Iris says, "do you think it could rewrite my fate?" "I don't know if that's a good idea," Sara says. "Do you have a better one?" And no, Sara doesn't. "No!" Thawne shouts, but Iris grasps the spear tighter, and feels herself floating off the ground. She opens her eyes, and sees the shocked faces of her friends. Eobard Thawne looks up at her in awed horror. "Eobard Thawne," she says, her voice taking on an echoing, other-worldly quality. "Iris West," he says, his voice cracking, "please, save me." "Why shouldn't I erase you where you stand?" "Please," he begs, "I can tell you about you and Barry's original timeline, your children, your career. I can help you defeat Savitar." Iris laughs. Like she needs Thawne's help to defeat Savitar, when she holds the power to rewrite reality in her hands. "You killed Barry's mom to spite him," Iris growls, "I should erase you and all of the damage you've done." "Iris," Rip says, "you have no idea the effects that could have on the time stream." "Remember the effects of Flashpoint," Stein says, "you felt those effects for months. Imagine what this would do." Iris can imagine what it would do, though. It would make the world a better place. God, she just wants to do it.  "Iris," Sara says, "I know what it's like to take a life, to take too many lives. It sits with you. You don't want that weighing on you." Iris can feel the truth in their words, and knows that she can't erase Thawne from the time stream. "Please," Thawne says, "I'll do anything just- just save me, Iris." She's not going to erase him. That doesn't mean she has to save him. Iris holds the spear of destiny in her grubby little fingers, and rewrites history. "I'm alive," he says, full of shock. "You are," Iris says. "But I don't feel solid," he says, "I don't- I don't-" Then he spots the time wraith approaching from his left. His eyes widen. "You didn't save me," he says, and he wraps his hands around her throat. "Savitar's not around to kill you anymore," he says, squeezing a little harder, "guess I'll have to finish the job for him." She chokes, and she hears the rest of her Team scrambling for their weapons. "Drop dimples or I'll light you up-" Thawne rolls his eyes. "If you try to light me up, Rory, you'll just get her. I'll be gone in a Flash." "Speaking of Flashes, who should I kill next, Miss West, your brother or your ex?" She sputters, and he laughs. "Guess it doesn't matter, you'll be dead either way." She sees a flicker behind him, something ghostly, and she feels something bubble in her throat. "You brought this on yourself," he says, and the time wraith descends upon him. He drops her harshly to the ground, and he screams as he tries to run. But the time wraith digs it's claws into him and drags him into the void. "What just happened?" Jax asks. "Looks like dimples saved the day," Mick says, which is apparently an explanation. Sara holds out a hand and helps Iris up, letting her lean on her for support. "Yeah," she says, "she did." Iris almost doesn't want to leave. "You sure you wanna leave, dimples? Sure the Captain can treat ya better than the Flash." "Don't pressure her," Ray says, "she'll come back if she wants to." "I'll miss you too," she says, rolling her eyes. "The archives will miss you," Nate says. Amaya rolls her eyes. "He means he'll miss you. I will too." "You're the Captain, Sara," Amaya says, "it's different." "You know you'll always have a place with us, right?" Sara asks. Iris nods. She knows it, and she feels so much better knowing that. 

"I won't apologize for sleeping with someone else while you were Lois Lane zoning me," she tells him. "I won't ask you to," he promises. "How do you do it?" Iris asks him. Barry sends her a confused look.  "Live with the power to change history, and never do it?" "Well,” Barry says, and Iris rolls her eyes as she remembers Flashpoint. 

"You just changed it once," she amends. "I only had the spear for a minute and I almost rewrote everything," she admits into his back, "and if I had it constantly, I don't know if I could help myself." 

"Hey," he says, "you are the best person I know. You did the right thing, even though you didn’t want to. You probably wouldn’t have changed things the one time.” Iris doesn’t know if that’s true, but she decides to let the matter lie. It’s easier that way.  "I am pretty great," she says, "the legends all said so."

#sunkelles writes #iris x sara #iris west #sara lance #westallen #the flash #lot #atomwave

[krustentier7]

The games I played in 2016

You’re probably expecting the first paragraph to be about what a shit year 2016 was in general, but that’s so played out and I don’t really want to waste too much time. With video games specifically, I can say that this year at least for me has seen a massive drop off in quality compared to last. We did have a few pretty monumental releases that were a long time coming, but really nothing as legendary as any of my Top 5 placements of last year.

That said, I went over the list of game releases in 2016 last night and god damn, I played (and beat!) a lot of fucking games this year. In fact, while the number of games that I was interested in and didn’t get a chance to play is still pretty high, I managed to play *more* games than that. I keep feeling myself being increasingly strapped for time, and yet I still managed to play a lot and be part of the conversation, which I’m really happy about.

Still, I want to give you a list of titles I was interested in, but didn’t get a chance to play much of (despite even owning some of them) before we really kick things off: Owlboy, The Silver Case, Severed, Guilty Gear Xrd Revelator, Odin Sphere Leifthrasir (own that one), Dragon Quest VII, Thumper, Rez Infinite (mostly for Area X but fuck paying $30 for an HD remake of a Dreamcast game, even if it’s Rez), Amplitude, Salt and Sanctuary, Pokkén Tournament, Enter the Gungeon (another one I own), VA-11 HALL-A, Let It Die (first impression was pretty bad, but I dig the concept, so I want to give it another shot when I have time), Grow Up (own this one too), Steins;Gate Zero, ReCore (it’s on my hard drive), Darkest Dungeon, Gunvolt 2, Gears 4.

See, I did a similar thing last year and a lot of the games I mentioned there I still haven’t played, soooooooo… yeah… just thought I should mention them before anyone wonders where they are, let’s move on.

I’m also vaguely interested in Dishonored 2, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (which I actually own since I’m bad with money), Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth, Watch Dogs 2 and Pokémon SuMo? Mostly because I’ve heard good things about them and less because actual personal desire to play them.

Now, one thing I want to do that I didn’t last year is talk about a few games that I played that didn’t come out in 2016, they’re pretty noteworthy titles that I’m glad I finally got around to and mark some of my high points for this year.

Earthbound and Mother 3

The best roadtrip games that I played this year. I tried getting into Earthbound countless times over the years and always stopped not very far in for various reasons, but when it was released to the 3DS’s Virtual Console earlier this year, I knew that now was the time. It’s a great game to play on a handheld, the fact it took me months to complete (I played it on and off before Summer and then started dedicating entire days to it as I was closing in on the finish line) kind of added to this feeling of going on a huge journey in a way. I love that Earthbound doesn’t hold your hand too much, the environments have so much detail and personality crammed into them and are really fun to explore. The RPG gameplay is fairly basic, but there’s enough room for experimentation to allow for clever and fun strategies, and the limited inventory really keeps you on your toes. I really didn’t expect to like Earthbound as much as I did, it holds up so well both as an experience *and* as a game.

Mother 3 on the other hand is a pretty different experience! It’s a much more linear and guided journey that goes all-in on its more personal and literal story. While Earthbound was all about the adventure with all its ups and downs and less about a larger story, it’s the complete opposite in Mother 3 – and while I ultimately came to prefer Earthbound, this approach does have its merits. It’s become such a meme over the years, but Mother 3 really pulls at your heart-strings, and some of the game’s darker moments I’m really unlikely to ever forget. The story wouldn’t work as well as it does if it weren’t for all the streamlining and hand-holding, and I think as a counterpoint to the first two games in the series, it was a worthy sacrifice. I do think a lot of the RPG open-endedness suffers in this transition to a much more linear journey, and while I do really like the rhythm combo system, I think purely as an RPG, Earthbound is the better game. Side note, but I gotta say that I vastly preferred Earthbound’s more isometric style and open environments to Mother 3’s top-down perspective and extremely linear progression. Both are totally worth playing though and I wouldn’t want them to just be the same thing, it’s good that they’re so different. The Mother 4 fan game is looking to combine aspects of both titles into one, and I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Final Fantasy VII

That’s right, I literally *never* played Final Fantasy VII for longer than ten minutes before it came to PS4. It’s hard to say how much the extra features of that version enhanced the experience for me, turbo mode and toggleable random encounters definitely make this game much more palatable. Overall though, I’m extremely happy to report that the game completely holds up and is *not* overrated.

It really encapsulates what I think RPGs are good at: thirty, forty, fifty, sixty hours, that’s time that is rarely afforded to a story. When I think about Final Fantasy, I think about huge long ass journeys, with so many ups and downs and so many different little arcs, worlds that feel massive and alive, mysterious heroes and grandiose villains, twists and turns, revelations and dramatic high points… that’s Final Fantasy and that’s what VII offers. You really come to love this ragtag group of friends and exploring Gaia (I really love how many different vehicles you unlock by the way) is an absolute joy. Beyond that, I love the Materia system and how flexible it is. I usually only expect that kind of open-endedness from games like SMT, but FFVII has so many wacky combinations and ways to play that it’s almost mesmerizing. Just a wonderful, wonderful game.

The World Ends With You

TWEWY is a game with so many unique ideas crammed into it, none of which I’ve seen before or since its release, that somehow manages to make it all work. It’s easy to forget that games like Persona weren’t nearly as popular then as they are now, so the sheer novelty of a Square Enix RPG set in the modern day that really feeds off Shibuya teenage fashion culture was really something to behold. You eat food and need to wait for it to digest to get buffs, you need to set trends and wear appropriate clothing to raise your stats, YOU FIGHT ON BOTH SCREENS AT ONCE… it shouldn’t all gel together as well as it does, but, well, it does. When the combat and the music completely click, you get one of the most exhilarating and fun RPGs ever made, and the story handles contemporary themes like identity and adolescence with a lot of confidence and vigor.

That doesn’t mean that the game is without flaws though, far from it. I feel like the team spent a lot of time polishing the combat and the presentation (it’s really one of the most stylish games you’ll ever play) and put a lot of thought into its story, but the overall structure feels like a complete afterthought.  You’re constantly asked to run back and forth through a tiny game world, story progression is often gated off behind menial tasks. The combat is so much fun and the learning curve so steep that it really carries the experience, but if they ever decide to make a sequel (MEME), this is one area that really needs to improve. Beyond that, a lot of important abilities that really round off the combat and make it actually feel fully playable are locked behind story progression; you feel artificially gimped for way too long. The game has problems differentiating between similar touch inputs at points, having to drag Neku across the screen to move is tough to get used to (I realize there’s no real way around these problems though), and the dual-screen gameplay can vary wildly between a tightly choreographed ballet or a button-mashy mess.

All of these flaws are easy to forgive though when TWEWY pulls off so many unique ideas with such confidence – it’s a game that’s impossible to hate.

Doom

In preparation for the 2016 sequel, I finally played the original Doom and it’s fucking good? I love the emphasis on high-speed movement and exploration, the gunplay is still insanely polished after all these years and every encounter feels completely hand-crafted. Not much else to say, a total classic.

Max Payne

The original Max Payne is banned here in Germany, but my girlfriend gifted it to me through Steam (<3) and I finally got a chance to play it. It’s really good! Recoil and sound effects on every single gun are spot-on and bullet time/shoot dodges really never get old. I do think it’s a bit of a contrast to Doom, it made me realize that shooters designed around hit scan weapons aren’t really my preferred type of game, but that does little to blemish what’s here.

Resident Evil 4

My last RE4 playthrough had been a while ago, the only reason I’m mentioning it now is because I somehow spent thirty hours replaying this game I know front to back on Professional?? I dunno how that happened, I just know it was fucking GOOD.

I just realized how much time I’ve already spent writing about games that didn’t even come out this year, so before I waste any more time, let’s move on to my honorable mentions, games I played but didn’t make the Top 10 for whatever reason:

Furi

The most impressive thing about Furi is that it’s a great display of working smartly around a tight budget. Crafting a deep action game moveset and then building a game around it that takes advantage of it is nigh-impossible on the scale of a $20 downloadable game (see Platinum’s Korra game for what an attempt at that looks like), so what they did instead is give Rider, Furi’s protagonist, a very limited number of moves that all have purpose and make every single combat encounter in the game a full-on boss fight.

Every boss has a number of unique gimmicks and mechanics for you to figure out, and the game remains engaging and, dare I say it, hype for its entire runtime. The only real problem with Furi is that it’s fundamentally a game about reacting to your enemy and executing a strategy rather than player expression and decision making, the latter being what defines action games like Devil May Cry and Bayonetta. The main innovation of DMC1 was the game’s ranking system: there’ve been countless other games were you run around and kill enemies before it, but DMC1 incentivized you to also try and look cool. That element, playing around with your enemies and exhausting your character’s potential, is what gives these games their staying power, and it’s sorely lacking from Furi. Again, this was really the optimal and only way for this game to be made with the budget that it had, but it sadly fails to offer a lot of the satisfaction that I expect from games of this genre. That’s also why I haven’t gone back for a replay, it’s nice that enemy patterns are mixed up on higher difficulties, but the way I react to them is always going to be the same.

Street Fighter V

I don’t really agree with a lot of the backlash against Street Fighter V, while the relative lack of modes compared to other fighters is pretty baffling, I don’t really know why anyone would purchase this game if not to play 99% online, which is decently robust here. The game has a lot of structural issues, big and small, I think the currency system especially is so incredibly stingy that it might as well not exist, but it’s really too much to get into right now.

The reason Street Fighter has always been my preferred fighting game is how grounded and based on fundamentals it is. I really do get the appeal of games like Marvel, but spending hours upon hours in training mode to learn combo execution is way too daunting for me. Street Fighter gets to the, to me, interesting part of fighting games almost immediately, you can have small mind games and strategies even on very low levels of play. Street Fighter V makes great strides to emphasize this aspect even further: combos are easier to understand than ever, every single character is unique and the V system really helps bringing their strengths to the forefront. You immediately understand what any given character is about and how to play them, which makes finding the right character for you easier and more fun than ever.

I will admit though that there’s a bit too much overlap between different V-Skills and V-Triggers, and the latter generally don’t have as much utility or change the game up as much as I would like.

I have to say that I kind of hit a personal wall with the game, and a lot of the Season 2 changes are looking… questionable. Still, I really can’t deny that I had a great time with it, generally.

Fire Emblem Fates – Conquest

I was pretty burned out after beating Conquest despite enjoying it a lot, which is why I still haven’t gone back and played the other two parts that make up the whole of Fire Emblem Fates. There’s really not much I can say without going super in-depth, I know saying how great the map design is without explaining why is just really blegh but you’ll have to trust me on this one. Every map uses some unique layout and gimmick, your troops complement each other extremely well and you it feels really rewarding to figure out the best positioning and approach for any given situation. My only major misgiving is that Awakening’s relationship mechanics feel very out of place in Conquest’s more linear structure, they incentivize you to play differently from how you actually should and I found them to be really distracting. Other than that it’s an excellent entry into the series.

The Witness

The Witness is really good but I still haven’t beaten it (198 puzzles solved?). I kinda just want to leave it at that but there’s more I can say about it.

While the island the game is set on almost completely disconnected from the actual challenges you encounter, it lends the game an air of mystery and discovering how all the locations are connected and intertwined is really engaging. The Witness has been criticized for this disconnect a lot, every puzzle uses the exact same interface, but I think this approach has a lot of advantages over games like Portal, Limbo or Jonathan Blow’s own Braid. It’s always immediately clear when you’re on the wrong track, and there’s basically no real execution required – any person can draw a line on a grid, the only thing that matters is having the brain power to figure out how to do it.

Two annoyances that I can think of: you have a map of the island, but you can only look at it when you’re on a boat? And some of the puzzle mechanics really didn’t make a lick of sense to me, even after begrudgingly checking a guide. Like, I know I would’ve never figured some of the puzzles out myself because their rules were so arbitrary and hard to understand to me.   Uncharted 4

The action and combat sequences in Uncharted 4 are honestly some of the most breath-taking and heart-pounding I’ve seen in any game, I had moments where my jaw literally dropped to the floor and I was in genuine disbelief at what was happening on my TV. This stands in stark contrast to basically the other half of the game which mostly consists of slowly walking through linear environments, listening to dialogue and pushing crates. These moments served as pace breakers in earlier Uncharted games, but here they’re almost the main focus; it’s no coincidence that, for the first time in the series, there is a menu option to select and play every combat encounter (and just those) after you beat the game once. Some of the climbing and puzzle mechanics were expanded, but not to the degree that they can really stand on their own. I enjoyed exploring Madagascar on the jeep or riding the boat and exploring different islands with Sam (because here we get to do *actual* exploration of sizable environments), but so much of the non-action in Uncharted 4 is barely interactive and, well, boring.

What’s baffling is that the gunplay is so insanely good now that the game really didn’t need hours and hours of unengaging simple ass platforming or walking down straight lines. I love how the little dot inside the aiming reticle moves and twitches offset from the cross, the way enemies and their clothing react to bullet impact. I also find it almost offensive how utterly convinced Naughty Dog seem of their new direction: I think a lot of the quieter moments in The Last of Us were justifiable, but it annoys me that people are under the belief now that walking in a straight line and listening to dialogue is good storytelling. Watching the PSX demo for the upcoming DLC honestly had me burying my face in my hands in disbelief. Storytelling seems to be the only thing they’re passionate about anymore, and it’s to the point that you can just tell how bad Uncharted 4 wants to be a movie instead of a game.

Monster Hunter Generations

I love the Style system and how seamlessly it ties into with the existing weapons and mechanics, not every combination is a winner and you’re required to experiment and find what works best for you. Beyond that though, I found Monster Hunter 4’s story structure to be a huge leap forward for the series, and Generations basically takes all that progress away in favor of barebones quests with next to no context. So many of the Village Quests are based on gathering and mob hunts, you still can’t see Key Quests, and the satisfying progression of unique and charming hubs that defined MH4 has been done away with; hubs are pretty much completely meaningless now and merely serve as nostalgic throwbacks.

I’m making the game sound awful now, it still has everything we’ve come to know and love about Monster Hunter and I would recommend it to anyone, but compared to the evolution that MH4 was, it feels like a stop gap before the series (hopefully) moves on from 3DS. Final Fantasy XV

I plan to talk more in-depth about XV later down the line, and if it weren’t for me tempering my expectations to such a degree it would probably fall under disappointments rather than honorable mentions. I did enjoy my time with it, no doubt, it really nails the feeling of going on a journey and traversing an entire continent mainly through its impressive use of scale and some really cute mechanics like Prompto’s photos or camping. The game can have a really satisfying pull of exploration and combat that, when it clicks, it *really* clicks. It’s clear though that a lot of it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, and I want to examine it more closely and explain why hopefully in the near future.

Oxenfree

I think what annoyed me the most about Oxenfree is how on-rails it feels? You’re trekking through the woods and Jonas warns you to not get lost, and I just sat there wondering how I’m supposed to get lost when I’m quite literally exploring on rails. That’s mostly what is making me hesitant to play through the game a second time, I really see it becoming something of a slog on repeat playthroughs despite the short length. The story is cute, but it fails to give you a tangible sense of danger or ever really raise the stakes significantly. I think it really could’ve used some puzzle/action moments to inject some variety and engage the player more.

What I’m really impressed by is the dialogue system and how the game really goes all-in on it: conversations and dialogue choices happen without any sort of interruption and feel completely seamless, the dialogue choices themselves almost never follow any discernible patterns or fit inside a box, and the resulting branches and outcomes feel real and natural. I love how talking is really the main bulk of what you do in Oxenfree, and it’s something more games need to try in this fashion.

Overwatch

Overwatch is really good and I think it’s amazing that a multiplayer-only FPS can have such a fleshed-out world and a colorful personality like that, but I don’t really care about objective/team-based games for various reasons and I wish it had a singleplayer. I also haven’t been wanting to dedicate time to games where I don’t make “real” progress lately, and if you take one look at my backlog you’ll know why.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutants in Manhattan

I like that you can play levels out of order and a lot of the mechanics kind of start to make sense once you get to the boss fights, the open level structure is also interesting (though not as well executed as Anarchy Reigns or MadWorld), but everything else is pretty much as blegh as you’ve been told on the internet. Mob fights especially are such an incoherent mess that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

What’s puzzling is that the game really doesn’t seem to lack polish in any way, I don’t get the impression that lack of time or money is the culprit here. That’s pretty disconcerting and I hope it’s not an omen of what’s to come out of Platinum going forward.

Quantum Break

Quantum Break has cool gunplay and a nice little story, but I instantly forgot it existed once the credits stopped rolling. I think a lot of shooters limit their enemy design by choosing a realistic modern day setting, and that issue is on full display here: the number of generic soldiers you mow down just completely washes over you after a while. It’s also easy to draw comparisons to another third person shooter, Vanquish, and one thing I realized when I thought about it this way is that powers in Quantum Break almost never combine in meaningful ways and have too many similar applications. Slowing down time after a dodge, stacking bullets into one big cluster, doing a melee takedown after running – these moves all serve to either buy yourself more time to do damage, or to do a lot of damage at once.

In Vanquish, you can slow down time at basically any point; after you jump over cover, during a dash, after a roll, after you launch yourself in the air with a drop kick or certain melee attacks. From these examples alone you can already see different actions intertwining to give you much more utility than is immediately obvious, but it goes even deeper with things like boost dodging or SHOOTING YOUR OWN GRENADES.

Quantum Break lacks that kind of depth and, while the gunplay is as polished and exciting as you would expect from Remedy, it’s what makes the game rather forgettable.

Disappointments

Games that came out this year and not only didn’t make the Top Ten, but ended up being very disappointing to me personally for various reasons. I do have to add that the three following titles aren’t bad, in fact I’d argue they’re better games than a lot of the honorable mentions; I just happen to be particularly attached to them, emotionally, which obviously creates certain expectations, expectations that weren’t exactly met.

Zero Time Dilemma

The conclusion to the Zero Escape trilogy, it’s kind of hard to talk about what made Zero Time Dilemma disappointing without going into spoilers. I did have a really good time throughout most of the adventure, even though there were a lot of structural aspects to this story I wasn’t entirely on board with (without saying too much, I feel that a lot of events lack lasting consequences and end up falling flat for me and sapping away a lot of the tension). It only really falls apart during the final act, we’re served up ass-pull upon ass-pull (a lot of which have become memes, understandably) and it completely fails to tie up the loose ends of the previous two Zero Escape games. None of the burning questions that VLR left are even remotely addressed, instead Zero Time Dilemma feels very much like its own story, and it isn’t a particularly satisfying one. This trilogy had been such a journey up to this point, and ZTD really had the potential to deliver a massive payoff for all those who stuck with it over all these years, potential that sadly just wasn’t acted upon.

Most of the smart and praiseworthy aspects of this game were already present in VLR (how game progression is closely linked to your understanding of the story) and it’s hard to replicate the same wow factor by just repeating old tricks again. Beyond that, the move to fully animated 3D visuals is well-intentioned, but uh… just look at any of the trailers, really. I’m fully aware that 3D modelling and animation is much easier today than sprite/pixel-art, but I’m finding it hard to believe that they couldn’t just have hired a bunch of artists to draw a few dozen character portraits and environmental backdrops in the vein of 999 with the same budget. I think that’s something a lot of people would have preferred, and it would’ve been an artistic choice that is much more conscious of the team’s capabilities and the available resources.

Not only would that have made the overall presentation much tighter, I also think the game in its current form has a harder time handling exposition and info dumps than its predecessors. You can hardly have a ten minute exposé on Ice-9 within the confines of what is essentially filmic storytelling. There are certain rules animated cutscenes must adhere to: pacing, frequent cuts, length. A huge storytelling advantage games have over other forms of entertainment is that they can have lengthy dialogue sequences using text boxes and the like, without the player becoming unengaged over time and on a much tighter budget. This is something 999 and VLR reveled in, but ZTD’s move to animated cutscenes means that that isn’t an option anymore. These ass-pulls I mentioned earlier are so much harder to buy into now that the world and its rules aren’t as fully established as they were in the previous Zero Escape games.  

Dark Souls 3

I don’t really know what to say about Dark Souls 3. I’ve talked about a lot of misgivings in terms of level design in recent Souls games previously. One thing I would definitely like to add is how mishandled hubs have been in the series ever since Dark Souls 2: in Demon’s Souls, the Nexus was a necessary compromise since From Software weren’t yet able to connect all the areas seamlessly. The game managed to make this into a strength, however, by having the hub constantly change throughout the adventure and giving the player the option to tackle levels in any order. Items are places so deliberately throughout every single level that, on repeat playthroughs, the player will have a deep understanding of where to go early and how to give themselves an advantage through sequence breaks.

Dark Souls doesn’t have quite the same flexibility as Demon’s, owing to its move to a seamless world structure. I still think it’s a great trade-off though, because the feeling of knowing a game inside out and having the wit to figure out the perfect order in which to do things is so much stronger now that the game world is completely interconnected and requires you to map everything out in your head. Figuring out that you can go to Blighttown early or fight Pinwheel as your first boss is so much cooler when you actually physically have to perform these leaps and sequence breaks instead of just using a level select like in Demon’s Souls.

Firelink Shrine was an important piece in this puzzle: Lordran’s layout is so smart that just progressing through the game and using shortcuts as you normally would meant you had to return there frequently, and every time you would discover some new interesting change that further informs your understanding of the game world.

Now, two things: first, I think warping from the start of the game is a huge mistake. It completely removes the need for shortcuts and an interconnected game world, and it compromises this feeling of understanding and getting to know your surroundings. Dark Souls 3 and Bloodborne both have branching points where you get to choose which area to tackle first, but that’s really not the same as figuring these connections and branches out yourself. Even so, while both games have very wide and expansive areas, game progression is almost entirely linear compared to Demon’s or Dark Souls. I think 3 is a better game than 2, but I would honestly go as far to say that Dark Souls 3 is the most linear Souls game yet.

Second, it’s obvious that From Software recognized fundamental flaws in this design approach: if you can just warp anywhere and the world isn’t really interconnected, it means you’re not naturally going to return to your hub like you would in Demon’s or Dark Souls. And if the player doesn’t do that, they’re going to miss out on important NPC interactions and it makes it impossible for the designers to reset the player’s focus when they want to.

Their solution to this was to remove the ability to level up at any bonfire; the only way to do that in post-Dark Souls titles is to go back to the hub and speak to an NPC. I think the fact this change had to be made just shows that the whole idea of warping from the start was ill-conceived. Whereas the hubs in Demon’s and Dark Souls had purpose and a reason to exist, they’re nothing more than a contrivance and old baggage here.

To talk more about Dark Souls 3 specifically, a few rapid-fire points: the bosses are really great and varied and unique, and I like the weapons a lot (even though Weapon Artes didn’t live up to their full potential). I’m extremely conflicted on the amount of references and callbacks to other Souls games; every moment that I found hype or memorable was thanks to my experience with every other Souls game up to that point, which just makes me really sad thinking about it. I also think the way some of the open questions that Dark Souls left are answered so lazily here that I honestly wish they hadn’t bothered and stayed away from the first game’s legacy. Final point: god this game looks so much like Bloodborne that it’s uncanny, I genuinely can’t tell the two apart sometimes. That’s all the more upsetting because Bloodborne was a much, much better game with a lot more creative energy behind it. WHICH BRINGS ME TO...

Shin Megami Tensei IV: Apocalypse

This game is fucking shit and I’m legit not joking when I say that I have not even the faintest as to why anyone would think it’s better than the original.

Actually okay, let me back up, this game has all the trappings of any good SMT aka monster collecting/fusing and fast-paced high-stakes combat. On that fundamental primal level, Apocalypse can be pretty fun, I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy min-maxing and planning out how I’m going to build my party. Some of the balance and system tweaks I’m also on board with (Skill Affinities and Demon Negotiation, namely), but everything else is such a far cry from the original SMT IV that it’s honestly hard to believe. I know I’m gonna go more in-depth with this game in the future, so I can’t go into full detail about my complaints just yet, but needless to say that, seeing how much I loved and appreciated SMT IV, this is easily my biggest disappointment of the year.

On that note, I am very curious if some of the mechanics on display here are going to find their way into Persona 5, which is not something I would be against.

And now what you’ve all been waiting for, here are my ten favorite games of 2016:

10. Superhot

Superhot was really cool, but I kind of just instantly forgot about it when I beat it. Crazy potential for a sequel and I would definitely play it again and again if it weren’t for me trying to avoid replays in favor of working on my backlog.

9. Hyper Light Drifter

I really love the combat, the aesthetics and the approach to tone and storytelling in Hyper Light Drifter, but I think it didn’t quite live up to its full potential. I keep seeing people comparing this to the original Zelda (a game I am very fond of), and while I can see where they’re coming from (both games are comparatively minimalist and open-ended to most games out there, and they emphasize combat and easy-to-understand challenges over puzzles and the like), it’s really not on the same level for me. While there are plenty of secrets tucked away in HLD’s world and the order in which to tackle every area is up to you, it still follows a very basic, formulaic structure: here’s your hub, here are four areas connected to it, every area, while expansive, is its own completely separate challenge.

Compared to games like Dark Souls or yes, the original Zelda, item placements also don’t feel as deliberate, the world’s layout doesn’t seem to reward knowledge and efficient replays very much. Important, powerful items are often either rewards for completing story tasks are upgrades you buy with points from a shop in the hub. I think this basic four-area structure and the fact that everything outside the hub is very much challenge-focused (meaning you’re not gonna encounter NPCs or special shops like you would in the other games I mentioned) is a real missed opportunity.

What also put a damper on my enjoyment of the game are a lot of the technical problems I had with the PC version, which have been largely fixed over time, making me wish I had waited a bit longer to play it. I am really excited to revisit it though.

8. Super Mario Run

I’ve tweeted about this before, but what I like the most about Super Mario Run is that I’m not punished for running through every level as fast as I can. That’s the most fun way to play 2D Mario to me, stopping my forward motion to look for secrets just isn’t something I’m really into. Thankfully, 100% completion and fast-paced platforming aren’t mutually exclusive in Mario’s first mobile outing. It’s impressive how Nintendo’s designers have managed to cram clever and varied optional challenged into the confines of an auto-runner, and watching Mario vault over enemies and do a turn after every walljump is an absolute joy; he hasn’t felt this acrobatic since Mario 64. Super Mario Run is proof that control or hardware limitations can sometimes open up completely new gameplay possibilities, and I think it’s something future 2D Mario games can definitely draw from.

7. Titanfall 2

Why is this game so good?? I don’t think anyone really saw it coming. I have a lot of fundamental issues with military-style shooters (two-weapon limits, a lot of weapons fulfilling the same purpose, emphasis on hit scan enemies, regenerating health, sprinting meaning I can’t shoot while I’m moving at top speed), and while Titanfall 2 has basically all of those same trappings, it adds enough on top of the formula to somehow make it work. You have a staggering amount of movement options, most of which allow you to stay on the offense while traversing at high speeds, and the expansive environments mean you can approach any combat situation as you please without being forced into cover very much. So many times I would let off shotgun blasts while sliding along the ground or detonate C4 charges in mid-air, and the mechanics are so insanely polished and versatile that they wouldn’t feel out of place in a Platinum game.

I also think that the idea of Titans is such a smart addition to the formula that I’m surprised other shooters haven’t come up with it before. It injects gameplay variety and means the player has to be competent at two completely different styles of movement and shooting, which also intertwine in logical and cool ways (lots of opportunities to switch between Pilot and Titan gameplay on the fly). I love that you can change between so many completely different Titan loudouts at any time (not having all of them unlocked from the start for New Game+ or something of the sort is a huge missed opportunity), and they’re also an amazing way to have boss fights in this style of shooter. That also ties into how well the game expands on this idea for its story, every opponent you face throughout the adventure has their own personality and mechanics to come to grips with, and the bond between you and BT feels tangible. It’s unbelievable how this game was sent out to die by EA, they really didn’t know what they had.

6. Doom

This game is so insanely talked about that I struggle to add anything to the conversation, so just trust me when I say it’s good. I love how smartly it bucks a lot of recent FPS trends with its movement and health mechanics, with how every weapon feels like a meaningful part of the adventure and enemies don’t use hit scan, rewarding constant movement and awareness of your surroundings (which reminds me a lot of Metroid Prime somehow?). Every part of your arsenal has some limitation on how often you can use it, and later stages of the game especially become all about planning ahead and thinking constantly about when and where to use different abilities.

Glory Kills especially are such a fantastic mechanic and accomplish so many different things, and I love how your position/camera angle relative to the enemy affects the animation you’re going to get. Small thing, but too often I would trigger a Glory Kill only to watch Doomguy turn a demon into mush with a single half-hearted punch, I know they were made shorter after some feedback, but I actually prefer what they used to be like I think. The level design is very wide and vertical and encourages exploration, but that is sadly mostly limited to optional secrets; you can crit path your way through Doom very easily, the main story doesn’t require you backtrack and learn the layout of a map like the original two games or 64 did. That’s probably my main gripe with the game, but it’s still an absolute blast and something everyone has to play.

5. Inside

The only thing I really want to say and praise about Inside is that it’s a game that is not afraid to be completely and utterly disgusting in its imagery, but also paces itself and builds suspense so well that it never feels like shock value. Inside really delivers on the curiosity it creates inside the player’s mind from the word “go!”, and it feels so confident in its execution that it makes Limbo look quaint in comparison. The move to 3D visuals really elevates the experience in ways you wouldn’t expect. I honestly just don’t want to spoil anything, just go and play it.

4. The Last Guardian

I said everything there is to say about The Last Guardian in my recent post on it. All I can say now is that I hope the fact it trumps so many excellent games on this list is what’s going to give you all the urge to play it.

3. Star Fox Zero

I’m not fucking sorry.

I know I look like a crazy person, but hear me out, I’m even going to start with the bad if that makes you happy. I think rebooting the Star Fox story was very much necessary with how every attempt to move it forward has resulted in.. well, you know. The fact that it is the Lylat Wars again and that Andross is the villain really isn’t an issue to me, it’s more that this game really had the potential to elevate the story telling in the series to the standard of something like The Wonderful 101. I’m not sure if Miyamoto would’ve focused his efforts on that front if he had been given more time (I doubt it) and it still makes me yearn for a Star Fox game directed by someone like Hideki Kamiya.

This directly ties into the game’s other big shortcoming: it could REALLY use more levels. I think the length that is here is perfectly fine for a Star Fox game, my issue is rather that it never seems to be able to fully spread its wings and unleash the complete potential of its gameplay. With the Wii U suffering a less than peaceful death, I doubt we will get another attempt at this, and I have to say that if we ever get another Star Fox game, I’m really going to miss these controls.

Yeah, you heard me. I LOVE Star Fox Zero’s controls.

Just the ability to aim independently from your ship’s movement affords you a degree of control and precision that just hasn’t existed in the series thus far. You can draw comparisons to games like Kid Icarus Uprising and Sin and Punishment 2, but what makes Star Fox an interesting case is how your ship always moves forward; these other games use a setup where you move your character across the screen while the camera shifts and pans dynamically to capture different sensations of movement. In Star Fox Zero, the camera is always (mostly) behind you and you’re always in danger of being hit by whatever is in front of you. The idea that I can now aim anywhere no matter where I am on the screen gives you so much more freedom in how you position yourself and approach any given situation, and that’s what makes it such a great addition.

This all also means that there is another layer of skill involved with aiming that you don’t get in other games. For example, certain targets are harder or easier to hit depending on your Arwing’s vertical position on the field, and the fact you’re moving forward constantly means you have a limited window in which you can even attempt a shot. What you can now do is morph into the chicken walker (which halts your forward motion), use the thrusters adjust your elevation and hit your target. The game is full of little tricks like that and I haven’t seen much else like this in other shooters of this nature.

The dual-screen aspect of the controls is such a cool and interesting idea that I would love to see expanded upon in future titles, because it’s clear that it sadly never unleashes its full potential here. It still really elevates the experience though, mostly during All-Range mode where it perfectly intertwines with another new mechanic: Target View.

Holding ZL will make the camera pull back and center on an enemy, giving you a much better view of your surroundings than was previously possible in past Star Fox games. The reason this could be implemented here IS the second screen: if you put Target View in Star Fox 64 with the exact same controls as before, it wouldn’t be of much use since you a.) can only shoot at what is directly in front of you and b.) YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO SEE WHAT’S IN FRONT OF YOU SINCE YOU DON’T HAVE A SECOND SCREEN. This addition makes Star Wolf especially so much more fun to fight since you can constantly stay on the offensive and react to your enemy’s movements immediately, frantically shifting back and forth between both screens. A lot of bosses will also use attacks that would be impossible to dodge without something like Target View, which makes them much more varied and interesting than bosses in previous Star Fox games.

I love how you can basically pick a flight path on the TV, then shoot from the gamepad to go on a sort of bombing run. I love how the gamepad expands the field of view, letting you shoot targets you’ve already passed by and creating opportunities for hidden targets in most stages.

By far the cutest thing about the controls is how the right stick is used to manipulate your Arwing’s movement. Tilting the stick left or right will make the Arwing gradually bank in that direction, giving it a quick rattle results in a barrel roll – it just feels so tactile and *right*. That’s especially true when you use it in conjunction with the left stick to adjust your turning speed (I do wish you could turn off the Somersault and U-Turn stick commands and just use the B and X buttons) or smoothly go into a boost or pull the break by pushing the right stick up or down, which also just feels right.

There’s more I could ramble on about, but this whole thing is way too long already and I mostly just wanted to address the main sticking points everyone’s been up in arms about with Star Fox Zero. Everything else is mostly the Star Fox you and love: frantic, fast-paced action with a satisfying learning curve and plenty of incentives to keep playing after the credits roll. The Wii U and maybe even this series might have died an unsavory death, but I’m glad I still got to experience Nintendo and Platinum to take on one of my most dear and beloved franchises in such a bold and innovative and exciting way.

2. AM2R

By far the best Metroid game since Zero Mission (maybe even better than that? I need to replay Zero Mission and Super) and in fact so good that I really don’t give a shit it’s not made by Nintendo. A few rapid-fire points:

Biggest and most varied array of bosses out of any 2D Metroid game.

Expansive, vertical areas with tons of different layers and great shifts in pacing and progression.

Controls like BUTTER.

Unlocking areas in chunks makes it a bit more linear than I would like, but there are still plenty of opportunities to get lost, do things in different orders, explore and sequence break.

More to that point, I think the idea of hunting down Metroids and unlocking chunks of world in set intervals makes for a slightly different and very enjoyable pacing compared to most Metroid games.

The visuals aren’t an exact copy of either Super Metroid’s or Zero Mission’s art styles, instead they try to adhere to and recreate the GameBoy original in a 16-Bit style. A lot of the tiles and surfaces have a rougher, flatter look to them than what you’re used to in these other games, and combined with the way color and space are used, it creates a style that is completely unique and extremely faithful to the original game.

I don’t want to get too upset about Nintendo taking this game down and denying it any sort of recognition, it’s their IP and they can do what they want with it. I personally just have to question if this was really the best way to handle the situation, and it’s sad to see such a phenomenal game be dragged out of the limelight. Coupled with Metroid as a franchise being basically dormant at this point, it’s an unfortunate state of affairs all around. None of this can diminish the quality and the value of what’s here though, and I urge everyone to give AM2R a try.

1. Dragon Quest Builders

I think… a discussion as to whether or not it’s alright to praise Dragon Quest Builders as much as I have and will continue to do when it rips off another game as much as it does is absolutely worth having… but this is not the time and place for that right now, because right now I have to gush over this beautiful, jolly, wondrous game.

Dragon Quest Builders has given me a sense of adventure and wonder unlike any game I’ve played this year. As someone who hasn’t played a lot of Dragon Quest, what always drew me to the series is how it radiates joy and manages make things that could be seen as menial or pedestrian in other games feel exciting and meaningful and sincere. All of that is true in spades for Builders, I just have to watch the CGI intro every time I boot up the game because just seeing that stubby little anime boy flash a cheeky grin or take a bite out of an apple puts a smile on my face.

Dragon Quest Builders takes everything that makes Minecraft great (building stuff and complete freedom in how you do it, a world that has a sense of vastness and randomness and mystery) and adds structure and characters with unique personalities and desires into the mix. I love that everything I build has a distinct purpose: this is my smithy, this is my Inn, this is that person’s bedroom. What’s brilliant is that while the story doesn’t take place entirely in your head like it does in Minecraft, you not only still have the potential to bring in your own creativity, you’re very much encouraged to do so.

What I mean is this: even though I don’t technically have to, I feel much more inclined to decorate a private bedroom according to the owner’s personality than I normally would be if I were just building it for myself. The game never asked me to put a cute little table in Pippa’s room, I just thought it would suit her. This gets to the point where you design your entire town with its residents in mind, and it’s an element that is sorely lacking from other building-type games.

The game is very smartly designed in that it frequently shifts between vastly different tasks that not only satisfy a lot of different urges, but also take great advantage of the existing mechanics. Often, you’re simply asked to raise the level of your town by building whatever you desire in it, and I had the bar well maxed out halfway through the first chapter (every chapter is its own story and long enough to be a full game). Sometimes, the game will give you rough outlines, saying that the structure you’re about to build must meet certain conditions (this many tables, this many chests, a window, etc.), but besides those you’re given free reign in how to approach your creations. Other times, you’re handed exact blueprints telling you what to build, the challenge being more about gathering the necessary materials, which results in frequent and satisfying bouts of exploration.

These portions of Dragon Quest Builders aren’t all that special on the surface, there isn’t much to combat, and yet the fact that I can dig into the world at any point, how huge and imposing everything feels, how varied and fun the enemies are, how resources are limited and that you need to pay attention to hunger and health at all times… it creates such a great sense of adventure that makes me yearn even more for Breath of the Wild than I already am. I love the sense of immediacy you get from finding little caves and dungeons, how every treasure you find feels real and earned (the fact that the game doesn’t shove a mini cutscene down my throat every time I open a chest and presents its spoils at face value is something I really appreciate) and just how idyllic it feels to mine the earth and  gather resources as you watch the sun go up and down, its reflection drifting softly along the calm water.

It’s also incredibly refreshing to see Dragon Quest Builders making crafty changes to Minecraft’s formula when necessary: placing blocks below and above you is so much easier thanks to the use of the shoulder buttons, you can smoothly draw entire lines of walls without any hassle, and I love how you can essentially upgrade the materials of any structure you’ve already built after the fact (you can craft an item that lets you change a wooden wall into a brick one, for example).

This game is simply incredibly, and I really urge anyone to try it, even if it doesn’t look like your kind of thing initially. It wasn’t on my radar at all before, and yet here I am, proudly declaring it as my favorite game of 2016.

#goty 2016 #favorite games of 2016