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suguruplsr · 7 months

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Hi hi 👉🏾👈🏾was wondering if you could do a smut of Gamer boy Getou x Chubby Goth YN? It's been on my brain for a whiiiile

Filled to the brim!

✰ ✰ ✰ you just look so cute , so don’t blame him when he fills you up.. to the brim !

જ⁀➴ ily for this <3 i’m not familiar with goth aesthetic so i tried my best babe!

,, gamer!suguru x chubby!fem!reader , mean!suguru , reader has dark/goth aesthetic , suguru implied to be a streamer , he came in his pants <3 , unprotected , cock warming , praising & degradation , cream pie , breeding kink , brat taming ? , dumbification ? , idk

*3 attachments*

“omw baby. do you like them? my friends said they suited me.”

suguru hearts your cute pictures of the new outfits you gained from your shopping spree at the mall. never minding the periodic dings of his phone, notifications of the money you’ve taken out his card. always knowing he could make it up with more hours of streaming. and he tends to look forward to your ‘acts’ of service, such cute apologies for spending so much money even if he doesn’t care about how you spend.

hearing the sound of his queue ending and getting into a lobby, he frowns and sets his phone down, annoyed with being unable to properly admire the photos. turning on his mic and unmuting his sound, suguru hears the playful banter between satoru and sukuna who argues over which characters to pick, “oh c’monnn, man you always pick jett!”

satoru groans, the sounds of his mouse trying to quickly lock her in, and failing, were so loud. “and? i’m better on her. loser..” sukuna chuckles, making suguru smile to himself, locking in sova, deciding to let haibara play sage for once. “he isn’t lying. plus you’ve been playing wayyyy better on gecko ever since he was released.” suguru hums, wincing when he suddenly hear mahitos, obnoxious, voice ring through his head phones. “yea dude! plus you ain’t playing raze this game!”

“could you please turn your mic down?” “yea that shit is loud ass hell bro” haibara and sukuna scold the male, their voices visibly contrasting as mahito whines, grumbling something that couldn’t be heard over the mic. “yo gojo, my chat agrees with us. so go head’ n’ lock in before the game starts..” sukuna snickers, a laugh escaping suguru, “geez man, you must be total shit on her if your fans are goin’ to his stream just to prove you wrong.” their banter only gets worse as they finally load in game, the pistol round was one of chaos, for sure.

eventually, after their ranked match ends in 16-14, with haibara clutching their last round, suguru leaves the lobby to let his friends continue their donation streams. he didn’t really even feel like playing valorant today, especially since he wasn’t streaming. instead, he logged onto dead by daylight, grabbing one of his rehab monster drinks and taking a small break as the game loaded.

before he could scroll through his reels, suguru immediately remembers the pictures you sent him, quickly going to his photos. he was glad for his unconscious acts of saving your batches of pictures before even looking at them, every time. his breath hitches at the sight, god, you looked so cute. black thigh high stockings with cute little bows attached, it matched the mini black dress you wore. it had a ruffled fluffy skirt that sat just above the stockings, the plush of your thighs poking out.

suguru was sure that if he had just bent you down he’d get such a good look at— fuck. his dick was already sticking up high, and as much as he would love to fuck into his hand just from your pictures, it had been a while since you had let him know you were coming home. he couldn’t have his sweet girl walking in on such a nasty sight. sighing and spreading legs wider to relieve the tightness, suguru views the next picture. and he’s sure you’re trying to kill him.

small platforms with cute little leg warmers and another pair of black stockings, little holes in them. with a gray large jacket zipped down just below your cleavage, revealing your busty breasts tucked into a low white t-shirt. your neck was so prettily decorated with silver necklaces too. they were similar to the jewelry coating your hands. so little left to the imagination. more like, his, imagination. he just wanted to rip those stockings and wrap your thick thighs around his head. maybe hold your large breasts with his even larger hands, and suck on your nipples greedily. he knew how much it turned you on.

suguru decides to save the last photo for later, already embarrassed by how he coated the gray sweat pants he wore with a dark stain of cum. finally starting the game, he hoped that maybe a few frustrating games would take his mind off and kill his raging hard on before you could get home. he sends a quick text to make sure you’re alright before queuing up, smiling to himself at the immediate notification he gets within the minute.

and yet the world throws another predicament his way.

“seriously suguru? i just wanna hang out with my boyfriend after being gone for so long. and he’s just too focused on his game to pay attention to me.” “baby, m’gonna get a longer ban from queue if i leave for you again” suguru sighs, feeling your arms wrap around him from behind his gaming chair, already tilting his head to get the small little kiss you usually place on his neck. always on the muscles around his neck, which left him sensitive.

suguru tries to pay attention to the skill checks, his hold on the mouse almost faltering when you don’t stop, leaving a trail of black lipstick around his neck and shoulder blades with every kiss. maybe it’s good he always walks around with those tight wife beaters on. “please? jus’ wanna hang out with you..” you whine softly, one of your hands running up and down his defined chest, cute white and black ombré acrylics grazing him through the shirt.

“c’mere.” suguru groans, watching in his peripheral vision how you eagerly slipped under his arms, sitting up on his lap as he adjusted. “how about this, you sit on my cock and after this match, i’ll fuck you. properly.” a grin curls when you waste no time in rolling down his sweat pants, him sitting up slightly so you could full undress his lower body fully. “looks like you’ve already came..” you hum, palming his leaking dick, your thumb rolling the globs over his tip.

“you looked so sexy in those outfits sweetie. c-couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you.” suguru groans, hiding his character real quick and slapping your thigh, “hurry up baby.” he moans from the feeling of your walls constricting around him, you sitting facing him, whines already slipping out your mouth and into his ears as you hide your face in his neck. “sugu.. m’gonna cum~” he huffs, paying attention to the game, chuckling, “game’s almost over. just wait. you can do it baby.”

his praise has your pussy clenching around him, and as much as you’d love to roll your hips and take his dick without permission. his new chair had arm rests, forcing you to lift your thighs over them, keeping you in place. only able to wet his cock and warm him. “but i want you to cum in me. fill me up to the brim.” your nails dig into his skin, needy for the familiar feeling of when he’s spill his hot cum in you. it was always a lot, always enough.

“only one more left..” suguru mutters more to himself than you. but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, as if trying to stretch you even further. “hurry— please!” your snarky remark was cut off by a harsh and quick slap on your ass that wasn’t hidden under the short dress you wore, him laughing sickly from how high the pitch of your voice had gotten.

“i must spoil you to much. thinkin’ you can talk to me like that..” suguru sighs, kissing your neck as he focused on the last gen that was almost finished. “didn’t your mama tell you that if you don’t have anything nice to say, then you shouldn’t say it at all? tsk. stupid thing.” his sudden change of attitude made you tuck your head, thighs shaking as your squeeze your eyes shut. you loved it when he got like this. it was so hot, yet so mean. and the sting on your ass wasn’t very nice either. curse those skimpy lace panties you decided to wear.

“m’sorry sugu.. wasn’t thinkin’..” you mumble, tears prickling in your eyes when he gives another slap but perhaps the familiar in-game sound of the exit gates powering up gave you some excitement. ready for his match to end already. “it’s okay. you’re never thinking. what a dumb girl i have. so clueless.” the feeling of your pussy fluttering once again has suguru smiling, hurrying his character towards one of the exit gates. despite his low tolerance towards your impatience. he swiftly sits up after his character escapes, not bothering to look at the end game screen and picking you up.

“gonna fuck this pussy right.” suguru grunts, sloppily kissing you as he holds you against the nearest wall, holding your dress up with a pinned hand and almost pulling out, moaning at the sound of your juices dripping on the ground. “please sugu. need you to cum in my pussy. your pussy.” your whines has him shuffling his thick girth back into you, latching his mouth onto your nipples as he begins to thrust up into you. “yea? ya want me to cum in my pussy like a little fleshlight huh?” he chuckles, gaining scratches along his back in response.

“mhm! love it when you cum in me. feels soooo, fucking— good!” your eyes roll back when the head of his cock rolls against your sweet spot, jaw hanging at the feeling of him harshly sucking off your nipples before moving to your exposed neck, holding your plump thighs tight. “bet you wanna hear it too. gonna cum baby?” when you nod quickly, suguru deeply kisses you, tongue’s fighting each other in a moment of heat as his thrusts become faster and sharper. “hear how i cum in you baby. how i fill up— fuck, my, pussy, with, my, cum.” he speaks between bated breath’s, taking away yours in one swift angled thrust, your cunt tight around him as you two stay in a silent needy kiss.

your pussy throbs from the squelching sound his cum shooting into you. you could feel how the ropes of cum warmed you up. it was intoxicating. so sensitive to the feeling of the rest of his hot cum spilling in you. you were already creaming around him afterwards, your shared cum sticking to each other as he finally pulled away.

“sugu.. can you do that again..?”

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fairybin · 10 months

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soobin nsfw alphabet

pairing: soobin x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+ content under the cut. minors do not interact!

word count: 1.1k

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare with soobin is honestly pretty minimal. he probably wouldn’t do much besides get a wet towel to clean you both up and maybe a shower too if you two aren’t too tired after. most of the real aftercare happens the next morning where he’d make you breakfast and run you a hot bath.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

soobin’s favorite body part on you is your mouth. he loves the way your lips feel wrapped around his dick and the way you kiss up his neck and stomach. his favorite body part on himself is his back. soobin is a sucker for the marks and scratches you leave on his back and loves to look at them in the mirror after you’re done.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

let’s be extremely honest here, he has the biggest dick in txt, so he must be able to accommodate for all that he’s packing. he loves to cum in you, on your face, on your tummy and he cums a lot. soobin doesn’t like to pull out of you most of the time so he’d definitely prefer to cum inside you. soobin breeding link anyone?

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

soobin really craves attention. he wants everyone to know how sexy his partner is and if he has to go through extreme measures, he most certainly will. he dreams about getting caught while he’s playing online computer games and you’re sitting next to him or on his lap masturbating. one of his gamer buddies would point out the lewd noises coming out of your mouth and soobin would look over at you and insert a finger in your pussy, saying he was just “watching porn on a different tab” when in reality he knew exactly what was going on.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s had sex a few times and a lot of his ideas come from porn. when the time comes to have sex, he knows what he’s doing of course but by no means is he a professional at all.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. again, soobin has a monster cock so he’d love to have you on your back, eye-to-eye with him while his dick is going back and forth inside of you. if you move too much or are loud when you’re supposed to be quiet, he has easy access to cover your mouth or wrap his hand around your neck, giving you a quick tight squeeze.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

soobin is so serious about sex. he is not fucking you to make jokes. he’s fucking you to make you feel good, so he wouldn’t be laughing or smiling with you at all.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

it depends. sometimes if he’s lazy, he’ll either leave the hair there and on his rest days, he’ll give it a small trim, but he’s never completely bare. he swears it’s sexier when he has all his hair there, though.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

honestly, soobin isn’t the most romantic during sex. he’d save all the romance for the day after where he can really plan out what he wants to do for you. however just as a boyfriend he’d definitely be more intimate. if you two are fwb, he’s rarely that affectionate during sex.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

up until he was a little older, soobin didn’t really like to masturbate alone because he was bigger than expected and he really had to grow into his size. now he unconsciously buries his hand into his sweatpants and palms himself over his underwear without much thought but he prefers to have you jerk him off or masturbate with him.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

soobin 100% has a size kink. even if you’re similar to him in height and/or weight, the thought alone that he could overpower you at anytime and place gets him hot.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

soobin comes across as 50% vanilla and 50% pervert so ideally he’d prefer to have sex in the bedroom, but he’d probably really want to fuck somewhere in public like a clean restroom or a pulled over car on the highway. it just would depend on the day honestly.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he’s super into non verbal communication like subtle lip bites and eye contact. if you even just look at him with a sight that says you want him, consider him as good as gone. when you find the time, he’s already pulled your pants down and has you bent over.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he would never have a threesome or pass you around between other people. soobin does like to show you off, but that wouldn’t transfer over into the bedroom. he wants it to just be you two.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

soobin prefers giving. he wants nothing more than to see your face heating up and mouth agape when he goes down on you. he likes to get his dick sucked too, but much rather wants to do the work for you.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

most of the time, soobin fucks slow. only if you want him to be rough and fast, he will, but he usually wants to go slow and savor the moment.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’s okay with them if you don’t have time to fully enjoy yourselves, but he’s definitely more into long sex sessions. he’ll only have a quickie if there’s no time.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

soobin’s probably okay with trying new things you’d want to try and he’s usually fine with experimenting. if he doesn’t like it, he’ll always let you know.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

soobin doesn’t really have the stamina to go past three rounds to be honest. if there’s a break in between, he can probably go up to four rounds in the same night, but usually they never go past that and only last up to thirty minutes.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

soobin’s dick is enough. he also has belts and eye masks for special occasions though.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

soobin likes to just get down to business, so unless he’s really in a mood to tease you or you really happened to piss him off, he’s going to treat you fine and give you what you want.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he isn’t too loud. soobin is more of a groaner when he’s inside of you and a big whiner when you’re sucking his dick or doing foreplay like kissing his neck.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

king-to-be prince soobin wasn’t one who liked to be forced to do anything. he especially didn’t like being forced to stay away from you and constantly went against his parents wishes to be with you, his family’s maid, instead of spending time with the princess who he’s been arranged to marry since his birth. in an attempt to further distance the two of you, soobin’s parents entrusted you to stay next to the future princess as her right hand. with this duty, you were placed in charge of all of her newly acquired possessions and gifts from the citizens and the kingdom. little did anyone know, soobin had also sent in multiple gifts for you to have. although originally they were meant for the princess to try on, you kept pulling up your skirt showing off the new panties from the pile of gifts just to see soobin’s red blushed cheeks straining his neck to get a better view of your ass.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

big and fat. soobin probably has, if not the biggest, one of the biggest dicks in kpop. it’s long and thick in all the right places.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

unless you turn him on or if he gets really hard on his own, his sex drive is pretty average and he’s not really going to much about it.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

soobin can honestly stay up pretty late after he’s had sex. if anything, his partner is the one that passes out first after they’ve fucked because of how good soobin is.

written by fairybin. no copying, reposting, rewriting, or translating of any kind.

#txt hard hours #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin smut

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im-josh-b · 18 days

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Job Legacy Challenge Rules:

MUST USE ONLY THE SAME PLOT FOR WHOLE CHALLENGE.(Doesnt mean you cannot change house for each gen),

2.DOESNT MATTER WHAT GENDER THE HEIR ARE,

3.THIS IS A BASE GAME LEGACY CHALLENGE DO NOT NEED ANY PACKS TO COMPLETE,

4.YOU MUST MAX EACH JOB,

5.ONLY ONE CHILD PER GEN (if you have twins triplets etc, you must move them out of your lot and continue with your heir of choice, 6.MUST COMPLETE THE ASPIRATION OF EACH GENERATION. Now Time For The Generations:

Generation 1-Barista! The first gen is the barista career, Your dream is to be the best barista in the sim world Aspiration: Master Mixoligist Traits: Clumsy, Outgoing, Loyal MUST: Max Mixoligy Skill

Generation 2-Criminal (Boss Branch)! Your the child of a master barista but you dont like the goodness and kindness of your family, Unlike your barista parent your not telling people to have a nice day… no no no you are going to be turning to a life of crime an d want most sims to hate you. Aspiration: Public Enemy Traits: Evil, Kleptomaniac, Non committal MUST: Have 3 failed marriges with the fourth being the parent to next gen, Max Mischief Skill.

Generation 3-Buisness (Management)! Unlike your criminal parent you want to be more like your Grandparent and be kind to people, Your a buisness man/woman living your best life working in the office and having many friends. Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Traits: Good, Family Orrientated, Neat MUST:Max Writing Skill

Generation 4-Astronaut (Space Ranger)! In your childhood you dream of flying to space andexploring new worlds and galaxies, Your buisness parent for your birthday when turning into a teen buys you your very own rocket in the garden. Aspiration: The Curartor Traits: Genius, Loces Outdoors, perfectionist MUST: Max your fitness skill, Get married during the night with no guests and exchange vowls under the stars

Generation 5-Style Influencer (Trend Setter)! You wanna be popular in the world, Your gonna be popular but a heartbraker at the same time taking after your criminal ancestor. Aspiration: Friend of the World Traits: Cheerful, Self Assured, Romantic MUST: Break 5 Hearts and Marry The Sixth Have 3 best friends by being Young Adult

Generation 6-Painter (Patron of the Arts)! You love art and want a wall in your house dedicated to your paintings, You want a wedding in a museum. Apiration: Painter Extrodinare Traits: Cheerful, Creative, Art Lover MUST: Max Painting Skill

Generation 7-Freelancer (Artist)! Growing up with a painting obsessed parent you have naturally gained a liking for painting and want to make a buisness out of it, You only start painting when becoming a young adult where your parent finally lets you touch their paint supplies. Aspiration: Painter Extrodinare Traits: Art Lover, Creative, Childish MUST: Your child must not see the paintings you create and dont let them gain a liking for painting.

Generation 8-Writer (Author)! Since you were not allowed to get into painting you get into writing instead, You dream of being a world famous author and making books as big as harry potter. Aspiration: Best Selling Author Traits: Neat, Pefectionist, Bookworm MUST: Have made atleast 10,000 Simoliens of off books in your lifetime

Generation 9-Tech Guru (eSport Gamer)! Unlike any of your ancestors you want to be a world famous gamer and have many who want to become just like you. Your goal in life is to make a living off of playing games. Aspiration: Computer Whiz Traits: Geek, Lazy, Materalistic MUST: Max Gaming Skill

Generation Ten-"Final generation"-Baby Sitter! You love kids and want the best for them in their lives therefore you spend your weekdays spending time with your familky and sacrifice your weekends to help fellow parents have a break from kids, Aspiration: Big Happy Family Traits: Family Oriented, Good, Outgoing

!!!CONGRATS!!! YOU HAVE JUST COMPLETED THE JOB LEGACY CHALLENGE!!! If you want to continue with your save file i recommend going from generation one to generation 10 again but the next ten never knew about the previous 10 that they turn out just like!!! Thank you for completing my Legacy challenge an dhope you enjoyed playing -Josh

#sims 4 legacy #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4

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foone · 8 months

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one thing I like about Outer Wilds: Echoes of the Eye is how it relates to (some) player's perception of the main game's ending. (spoilers)

So the ending of the main game is about the end of all things. You can't stop the end coming, but you can help make what comes next. It's about accepting that the end is inevitable, and that fighting against that end is pointless. The player goes through the whole game hoping they'll find a way to save Timber Hearth, to save themselves and all their friends, and slowly realizes that it's not possible. The end cannot be stopped: I'm sorry, but the universe is winding down. All that's left is to let the next world grow from the ashes of this one.

Naturally, not everyone was happy with that concept. They wanted some way to save the world, to have a "good ending", to not have to deal with the sadness of the ending. They were upset with the game.

And then Echoes of the Eye comes along, and maybe some of those gamers thought this was like the DLCs for Mass Effect 3 and Fallout 3: Maybe this'll retcon the ending, and let us finally win, and let the Hearthians live?

And then... nope. The DLC is about a race who came to the solar system and the eye told them "THE UNIVERSE IS ABOUT TO DIE: LET'S CLOSE IT DOWN AND BUILD A NEW ONE!". And they were terrified and pissed. They shut off the message the eye was sending, they tried their best to forget that that was ever the situation they were in. They retreated into a fantasy world, ignoring the world burning around them. They nearly destroyed the multiverse by preventing the next big bang, because they didn't want their story to end.

It's only because of The Prisoner and The Hatchling's combined efforts that the Nomai came searching for The Eye, and The Hatchling was able to enter The Eye, and restart the universe.

The inhabitants of The Stranger had buried their heads in the sand up until the end of the universe, trying to ignore the reality of the coming end. The game makes it clear how foolish they were, and how close they came to destroying everything in their futile attempt to save themselves.

The DLC feels like it's in dialogue with those players who hated the main game's ending, and how there was no way to stop it. The DLC shows them a bunch of monsters in the dark, terrified of the first new thing to happen in 300,000 years, about to die as their spaceship falls apart under the strain as it attempts to avoid the supernova. They could have been the ones to usher in the new world, in their image. Instead they hid, and pretended nothing was happening. One of them tried to right this wrong by letting their story come to its natural conclusion, and they trapped that individual in a casket at the bottom of a lake, immortal but trapped in solitary confinement. They were just that scared of the story ending.

You meet The Prisoner and tell them of all that happened since their confinement. You tell them that their actions are the only reason you're there, why the Nomai came and tried to find The Eye, why you will be able to find The Eye. You bring that memory of The Prisoner into The Eye, and even as a memory they must apologize for their whole race, no matter how this turned out in the end. You reassure them that they did the right thing, and you step together into a new dawn.

The story of the DLC just feels like they had those who didn't like the main game's ending in mind when it was written.

#outer wilds #outer wilds echoes of the eye #echoes of the eye #outer wilds spoilers

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exeggcute · 7 months

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after some trial and error I think I finally have the perfect PS2 setup for the modern gamer. behold:

PS2 (old reliable) + power cable + magicgate memory card for those eight delicious MB of storage

retrotink adapter: a must-have in my case because we don't have any TVs that support analog input. you COULD go scrounge up an old CRT instead of shelling out for an adapter but (1) I have no desire to fistfight a melee player over who gets dibs on the CRT we both spotted on craigslist at exactly the same time (2) I have nowhere to put a CRT and (3) the retrotink is sick. worth every penny imo. this thing has upscaling, lots of settings to mess with (including psuedo-CRT settings to add scanlines and whatnot), and zero lag. there are significantly cheaper adapters out there but I did a shitload of research and nearly all of them have some kind of dealbreaking problem, save for the retrotink, whose only problems are that it isn't cheap and it runs out of stock quickly because they're all made by one guy in his garage.

component/YPbPr cable: the retrotink won't accept the regular AV cable that I've had for two decades (with the red/white/yellow inputs), but apparently AV input kind of sucks so component is the way to go for quality anyway.

wingman PS2: this thing is SO fucking cool dude. if you only pick up a single item on this list let it be the wingman. being able to play PS2 games not just wirelessly but on a modern controller (dualsense ftw) feels amaaaaazing. rumble works great, pairing is easy, no lag as far as I've noticed. the only downside is that modern controllers don't have the same pressure-sensitive buttons that the PS2's dualshock did, which means the handful of games that utilize that feature won't be a 1:1 experience.

so now your wallet just took a hit on all these peripherals—but not to worry, because we're also in the golden age of PS2 piracy:

if you have a stack of compatible DVD-Rs and a disc reader for your PC, you can use freedvdboot ESR patcher to patch an .iso of almost any PS2 game, burn that patched .iso to a disc, and then run the game on unmodified(!!!) PS2 hardware. there's a handful of caveats though:

(1) not all PS2s can take advantage of the exploit; it depends on the version of your console's DVD player. atm I think all slim models are compatible, and some fat models are compatible, but people are working to crack the last few holdouts so don't lose hope if yours isn't supported yet.

(2) technically not all games are compatible either, but more games seem to work than not. games that do work are essentially indistinguishable from a legit copy, though—some of the other game piracy methods I looked into (like MC2SIO) have a lot of performance issues that freedvdboot-patched games don't seem to suffer from at all.

(3) not all DVDs are equal; someone on reddit compiled a list of DVDs that worked/didn't work with freedvdboot-patched games. (they aren't on this list, but I used Verbatim DVD-Rs and they worked fine.)

I have yet to find any good text-based guides about using the patcher, but this guy's video tutorial explains everything well. howeverrrr you can skip all the parts about "creating backups" of your "original game discs" and just use the .iso you downloaded off of Vimm's Lair lol.

bam. not quite free since you have to buy discs, but just about. and a 50-pack of DVDs was still cheaper than any of the used copies of ape escape 3 that I could find on ebay

#PS2 #playstation 2

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theresattrpgforthat · 23 days

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Hello! I have two (separate) genres im interested in recs for, if youve got them (though combined would be fascinating tbh): Horror and farming sim-like ttrpgs. Horror im sure is fairly common, just not in my circles (which are adventure fantasy based); farming sim though seems like it may be rarer? for that id be interested in either solo or with 2+ people

Theme: Horror Games

Hello friend, I’m going to let one of my older posts do some of the heavy lifting, and point you towards the Small Town Farming collection I put up back in 2022.

You are absolutely right that Horror is much easier to recommend, but I’ll also try and put some quick recs for solo-farming type games at the bottom of this post.

1978: The Night They Came Home, by World Champ Game Co.

1978: The Night THEY Came Home is a 1-2 player horror roleplaying game telling the story of a fateful showdown between Survivor (a clever and resilient person caught up in horrifying circumstances) and Slasher (a legendary force of evil). Using a deck of poker cards, dual rule books, varied resources, and shared play space, players will recount the events of a forsaken Halloween, zooming closer into the haunting folklore of a small Midwestern town and its inhabitants, and culminating in a violent battle for survival.

Here is a game for solo gamers and folks who want a more intimate experience. If you’re a fan of Friday the 13th, this is probably in your wheelhouse! 1978 has a win condition, meaning that either the Survivor or the Slasher will come away as the victor, and the fact that this is also a game that depends on a deck of cards means that I think this might also be a good game for folks who also enjoy card games and board games.

Vast Grimm, by Infinite Black.

EACH MISERABLE DAY THAT PASSES, THE UNIVERSE INCHES CLOSER TO ITS INEVITABLE DEMISE.

Vast Grimm is a stand-alone, art-filled, punk-fueled OSR role-playing game about the few humans remaining in a universe being consumed by growing parasitic würms.

Are you a MAnchiNe ravaged by war, pieced together with remnants of bots and the little flesh left of your body? Maybe you're a twisted biochemist shoving needles into your arms in hopes that this next fix will be the one that saves you and what’s left of humanity? Or perhaps you are a soul survivor, like a cockroach, doing whatever is necessary to stay alive even if it means the rest of your Legion must perish.

This is a game about survival, no matter how gruesome things get, humanity must survive.

If you’ve heard of MÖRK BORG and thought it was cool, and if you want the same kind of energy but in a sci-fi future full of mutant animals and horrific parasites, then you might want to check out Vast Grimm. Your characters will have to ration food, energy and ammo in an unending battle against the worms. This game looks to have a large amount of support, from expanded content, to a number of adventures, to an online character generator. For over-the-top violence, plenty of alien goo, and shambling pathetic characters that look like they might fall apart at any moment, try out Vast Grimm.

The Lost Bay, by IKO.

What Is The Lost Bay? The Lost Bay is a Suburban Gothic tabletop RPG se199X. The Lost Bay is also the name of the setting where the game takes place: a coastal suburb inspired by films and media from the 80s and 90s. In it you play as a young person touched by the Weird, an ancient force that gives you supernatural powers. You roam the Bay with your gang, its malls, arcade games shops, skateparks and beaches, and fight the Horror that has awakened.

The Lost Bay is a game for folks who like their horror drenched in 90’s nostalgia. Characters are archetypal, and each one comes with special powers. Using your powers is exciting and effective, but also brings you closer to Scars, horrible truths about the world around you that will irrevocably change your hometown.

The Lost Bay is great for planning heists, rescuing friends, and trying to get out of dodge when the going gets rough. It’s not about fighting your way out, but more about trying to keep you and your loved ones safe. A lot of game designers have had a riot putting together adventures for this game, which you can check out in this game jam. The link above is for the Kickstarter, but in case you see this game after the campaign finishes, you can also check the game out on Itch.

Flyover Country, by Headstone Hills.

Fields of wheat and corn ripple in the wind, hungry eyes peering out between the stalks. Billboards along the road advertise strange and dangerous attractions. Smiles are too wide, manners too polite, secrets buried too deep. The neon light of a diner glows in the distance, but you may never reach its doors. An empty highway stretches out to the horizon, then wraps back in around itself. This is Flyover Country.

Flyover Country is a Midwest road-tripping horror role-playing game for 4-6 players: one gamemaster, or Watcher, and 3-5 players, or Drifters. It is designed to be played in one setting and without prep. It only requires paper, writing utensils, and a tarot deck.

This is a great option for a group where the GM is uneasy about doing a lot of prep. While one person acts as the Watcher, much of the events in this game are simply generated by drawing tarot cards from a deck. Characters will also draw from the Major Arcana to determine what their secret is - and what special ability it has given them. This is a game of hidden information, and grinding your characters down towards a tragic or grisly end.

Gravemire, by Clawhammer Games.

Gravemire is a tabletop roleplaying game about death, growth, horror, and survival, based in an original mechanical framework and set in the churning waters of the Louisiana bayou circa 1894. Players slip into the roles of outsiders arriving in the town of Scarstone, a rural outpost that has been warped by a terrible transformation known as the Convulsion. Once, Scarstone was surrounded by similar towns. The Bayou once had an end. Now, unknowable numbers of horrors seep through the uncharted backwaters, strange magic contorts reality to its whims, and the settlements that called Scarstone their neighbour jut half-ruined from the mire like bones from a wound. Times have changed.

Gravemire is a pretty brutal game, not afraid to kill your character and steal their soul. The town of Scarstone is a trap; your characters wandered in one day through curiosity or the desire for adventure, but leaving the town isn’t nearly as easy. Characters are built using a point-buy system, and as you play you may acquire more skill - but you will also acquire Aversions, which sap your Willpower and inhibit your ability to muster through the worst of what the game can throw at you.

If you want to check out an abbreviated version of the game, you can check out the Kickstarter playkit here.

Under the Autumn Strangely, by Graham Gentz.

"Under the Autumn Strangely" is a storytelling game of pastoral horror priming with anachronistic Americana set in a land that Never Was.

Inspired by "Over the Garden Wall" created by Patrick McHale, players collaboratively create a world uncanny and old. Codify and encourage tonal clash as the Three Roles meld whimsy, autumnal melancholy, and dread.

Take a wrong turn on a dusty road. Follow the sign past the red barn with peeling paint. Doubt your senses.

Get a little lost.

Welcome to the Never Was.

From what I understand about this game, it works best with three players, as there are three roles that the participants are expected to embody. One person plays the Arcadian, who embodies the landscape and setting. One person plays the Traveller, who acts as a “main” character. One person plays the Terror, which grows to dominate the story. Each role can only add to to one role’s suggestions, and can only deny the other’s. If you want to mix your horror with nostalgia and a romanticized vision of the rural USA, you might want to check out Under the Autumn Strangely.

The Facility, by Galen Pejeu.

You awaken, cold and in the dark. Fumbling around by low blue lights in a coffin shaped pod. You pull yourself out of the box, and in the dark see the faces of others. You are all wearing loose fitting white clothing and laceless shoes. Hospital patients?

You peer into the dark, seeing little but hearing the sound of dripping, running water and distant machinery. You gather what you can, knowing that something is hunting you. It will be here soon.

Wait.

Can you remember who you are?

The Facility is a game for any number of players, taking on the role of ordinary people, stripped of their memories and trapped in a hostile and insane labyrinth of machines and interdimensional weirdness.

The Facility places your crew into an unknown place full of machines that want to kill you. It’s great for high-action scenes, and since your characters have lost their memories, I think the struggle to find pieces of who you are (or were) is a great way to zoom in and make the horror personal. The game is Breathless, so expect your character’s gear and/or abilities to slowly wear down over time, and for the staked to get bigger every time you pause to try and re-stock. If you want a science-fiction twist to your horror game, check out The Facility.

You Should Also Check Out...

My Shudders Rec Post

The Curse of the House of Rookwood, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Nature, Town, Farm, Villagers, by CardboardHyperfix.

Weeds in the Waste, by Meghan Cross

The Wandering Tea Garden, by AP.

Green Thumb, by Curious Frog.

The Bonsai Diary, by Sticky Doodler.

Iron Valley, by M.Kirin.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #horror

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bathomet-writes · 1 year

Text

science, baby!

summary: You and Donnie were intellectual equals, him with his inventions and you with your college studies. When you spend the afternoon studying in his lab, you can't deny the chemistry you two share.

relationship: Donnie x F!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, awkward flirting, love confessions, kissing

word count: 7,637

author's note: an anonymous request!! hope u enjoy!! 💖💖 (just fyi there's brief mentions about halfway through of...bewbs...if ur unfomfy with that i'm sorry!!)

Donatello knew he wasn’t good with feelings. He’d been getting better at processing and expressing them only recently, no thanks to Dr. Feelings. He supposed it also came from just getting older, interacting with more people and such. But just when he thought he was becoming slightly better at getting a handle on his emotions, there was you.

You were a fly in the ointment, a wrench in the plans. Everytime Donnie thought about you, he got irrationally annoyed. It made no sense.

“She is such a know-it-all, and I would know.”

You were one of April’s classmates from college that had slowly been integrated into their little social circle over the last couple of years. Donnie was usually either indifferent or mildly suspicious of most people April introduced his family to, even if she did have good taste in friends. But you had gotten into his good graces only because he found out that you were in the STEM field. You were a biochem major, or was it clinical laboratory science?

He should probably know at this point, you were talking about your school work a lot more lately. The point being that you were at least a bit of an equal to him, being into science. An inferior science, but still.

“Ugh…” Donnie sighed, removing his battle shell.

After a long day of saving the city from villainous teen hackers and general badassery, he needed to unwind. The seclusion of his lab called out to him like a siren song as he shuffled past the living area of the lair. From the couch, Leo gave him a lazy wave of his foot as a greeting.

“Donald.”

“Nardo.” He grunted.

Leo immediately notices the absence of Donnie’s battle shell, quirking his eyes up from his comic book. He must have had a long day if he didn’t even bother waiting until he was in his own room to take it off.

“If you’re going to your lab you’re gonna want to stay decent. There’s a weirdo in there doing homework.” He smirks.

Donnie stops dead in his tracks, his hand hovering over the security keypad of his door.

“Pardon?”

“Relax, it’s just Y/N. She asked if you would mind if she used your space for a while.”

With gritted teeth, Donnie slowly spun his head around to face Leo. He was a pretty reasonable guy, but his lab wasn’t exactly a study hall. There were rules, we live in a society, you don’t just go into another man’s lab when he’s not around.

“I do mind, actually!” He shouts, nearly spitting. “How did you even open the door?”

“That’s what we said! And she just let herself in.” Going back to his comic, Leo slumps down into the recesses of the couch.

Donnie’s eye twitched so hard he looked like he might bust a blood vessel.

“Fascinating.” He growls.

Alright, that tears it. You were officially the most annoying person he knew. Donnie quickly punched in the code, completed the retinal scan, and charged into his lab to see you sitting there. And in his chair of all things. There were plenty of stools and benches around, but of course, you just had to be sitting in his gamer chair.

You straighten as soon as you hear the door slide open, the mechanical hiss loud enough to hear even with your headphones in.

“Oh, there you are! How was your day?” You take out your earbuds and regard Donnie with as much friendliness as you can muster. You had a feeling he would be a little peeved seeing you like this.

Unfortunately, your prediction was correct. Donnie calmly steps forward after setting his shell on the rack on the wall. With a sharp inhale and his hands folded behind his back, he opens his eyes.

“Doing a little studying, huh? Some light schoolwork?”

With a soft chuckle, you spin back around to the work table. You almost forgot you still had your thumb on the plunger of your pipette. Carefully, you deposit the rest of the sample into the tube.

“Yup,” you chirp.

“Mmhmm. No, that’s great. You comfortable? Could I get you a pillow or a glass of water? Perhaps a more ergonomic chair with custom Corinthian leather upholstery?”

You detect the thick sarcasm in Donnie’s voice, smiling to yourself. You remain focused on your work however, you were almost done anyway. Without looking up, you sense Donnie standing right behind you, practically breathing down your neck.

“Is that what I’m feeling? You spare no expense, Don. It’s so luxurious.” You sigh, shimmying your shoulders.

Donnie clears his throat before grabbing the top of his chair to spin you around. He wanted to look you in your cute, dumb face if he was going to lecture you. Wait, your face wasn’t cute. Even if you were wearing green-tinted protective goggles. Lab safety looked incredibly attractive on anyone! But with the way the subtle purple hue of his LED lights hit you…

“What are you doing in my lab, using my equipment?”

Dang, you were even wearing a lab coat. He secretly hoped that it was one of his that he kept in the closet with this other spare– No, enough of that. He was mad at you.

“I’m using my own, thank you very much. And I needed to get out of the lab on campus. It’s way too crowded right now with finals and everything. Plus it stinks of chemicals.”

Smiling sweetly up at Donnie, you give him a gentle pat on his hand to dismiss him. He sputters watching you angle your foot onto the floor to twist the chair back around.

“And now my fortress of solitude will as well. Thanks for that.” He makes a point to sniff indignantly at you and the bevy of chemicals you had lying around.

“Anytime.”

You screw on the cap of the test tube, moving onto the next one on the rack. It’s a little awkward with latex gloves on, and you feel yourself fumble grabbing the new tube. Maybe it was just nerves from being watched by Donnie. It did feel sort of hot in here all of the sudden.

Peeking over your work, you see Donnie pull up another chair across from you at the table. He looked pretty steamed, almost like an angry tea kettle the way he was glowering at you. Without thinking about it, you find yourself smiling again. You quickly try and bite at your lip to cover it up. You at least had enough self-awareness to know that you had a bit of a crush on Donnie. Sure, he was kind of a control freak. And somewhat graceless when it came to matters of the heart, no matter how much he insisted that he wasn’t.

He was quirky. Well, more like a weirdo with a god complex. But you were sort of the same.

You both had a lot of things in common, a passion for science notwithstanding. When you first met him, you just assumed he was yet another aloof bad boy-type. You’ve been down that road before, and it never ended well for anybody involved. Not to sound like a total stereotype, but there was a little more to Donnie than all that. It just took years of wearing him down to see his true nature. He was fun, and funny! Didn’t help that you found him hot too.

Donnie’s flat articulation makes you almost drop your test tube when he finally speaks up.

“You’re lucky the ventilation system I installed in here is top-of-the-line.” He sighs, leaning back into his chair.

He thankfully didn't notice your flub as he looked up at the ceiling. You try and find something witty to say back, but you come up empty. Instead, you reach your hand out to the box you need from across the table.

“Pipette tip?”

Donnie looks back down, his drawn-on eyebrows furrowing. “The what?”

You huff, pointing to the container right beside him. You would get it yourself, but you were a little preoccupied. Plus you had tragically short arms.

Donnie knows this as well and gives you a smug smirk. His hand comes up and flutters over the box, teasing you.

“These?” He leers. “Why don’t you just…”

He deliberately slides them over to you. It’s a painfully slow joke that makes you blush a bit. You shoot your arm out again, only with a little more gusto.

“TODAY, PLEASE!” You scream, startling Donnie.

He jumps and pushes the box all the way over. “My god, woman. As I was saying–“

You frown as he tries to bore you with more shop talk. Donnie just could pass up an opportunity to brag about his lab and how much better he was than you. He thought he was better than most people, to be fair.

Donnie was annoying sometimes, but you much preferred hanging out with him than the other students over at Eastlaird. The other clinical laboratory majors were mostly sorority girls who never talked to you, which was fine. You didn’t really have anything in common with them other than your career interests. The chemistry and biology students weren’t much better though. They were a more diverse mix of people, but they were so stuck-up. Even more than Donatello. College would be much more enjoyable if he was there with you, but moments like these would just have to do.

You finish up your pipetting before looking around for the trash can. You swore you put it right by your feet, but you can’t find it anywhere. Delegating Donnie as your temporary lab assistant, you call out to him again.

“Biohazard Bin.” You announce.

He blinks, spinning around in his chair. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, so he didn’t really hear you.

“Biohazard, what now?”

You get up from his gamer chair and it slides out from under you. “Unless you want infectious diseases all over the place?”

Finally, Donnie gets up as well and helps you search around. How was it that you were able to lose all your stuff in his lab all the time? He’s found plenty of articles of clothing of yours strewn about after you left the lair before. In spite of himself, always managed to gather them up and keep them in a little “lost and found” laundry basket he put by his door. You both knew it was only for you, and you actually found it kind of sweet.

With a simple look beneath the work table, Donnie finds the red trash bin lying underneath. Of course it was.

“Here you are.” He grumbles, kicking it over to you.

You stop it with your foot before it topples over, glaring at him. Donnie sure was being a little stinker today. “Thank you.”

Carrying it back over to the table, you sweep your arm and push all your refuse into the bin. You place it on the floor and move to make the last couple of notes in your lab book. It was mostly full of bored doodles, but it had all your observations and measurements listed out for your reference. Curiously, Donnie walks over to you and leans over your shoulder. He was eager to see what you were even doing, not bothering to just ask you himself.

To his horror, your notebook looked like a mess. The drawings were fine. They were even a little adorable. But your hastily-written out equations were so…confusing to him. You didn’t even use numbers half the time! You just drew out weird shapes and stuff in place of numerals, it was mind-boggling. He loses his cool when he sees you write out ‘2 + 2 = 6.’

You snicker, feeling his head inch closer to yours. You knew that would get him.

“You’re not even— ugh! You’re not doing it right!” He grabs at your notes before being stopped by your hand on his wrist.

“Do not rip it up.” You warn.

“I was simply going to crumple it up and toss it into the biohazard bin.” He sneers, pulling his hand away.

“How would you know anyway? Medical science is my domain.”

You slide past him and grab for your backpack, slamming your notebook shut and dumping it in before he could look at it anymore. You definitely wouldn’t want him to see all the other doodles you did in the margins. There were a couple silly drawings you did of him in there, and you would probably combust on the spot if he were to look at them.

“Even an idiot could see that your math is all over the place. Hell, I don’t even know what to call it. These are the ramblings of an insane person.” Donnie points over to your backpack as you tuck it under the table with the rest of your equipment.

“You probably don’t even use that calculator of yours. The Texas Instruments are wasted on you!”

He seethes thinking about how lucky you were to be able to go to school when he couldn’t. He’d looked into online classes, at your behest, but it just wouldn’t be the same. He needed to learn, but he also needed to be around peers. People who shared his love of science, to rub elbows with the academic elites. Donnie really did crave more in-person social interaction, but what with the whole…turtle situation, among other things, it just wasn’t possible.

“Listen, Dee. You do things your way, I do them mine. Who cares about how naturally attuned I am to the natural world and how I don’t need to do fancy equations to do….science?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him mockingly.

“You’re so right. I don’t care.” He turns, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mirror his pose. “Really?”

“Nope.”

You walk around Donnie as he stands there, eyes shut in defiance. You can’t help the way your gaze wanders over him, taking in his body language. You found yourself sometimes ogling him and his impressive physique lately. He was mostly brains, but Donnie sure didn’t slack in the brawns department as well.

Internally, Donnie notices you scrutinizing his form. He chuckles to himself, of course you were taken by his appearance. Who wouldn’t be? He usually prided himself and other people based purely on the mind. Personality and intellect were far more important than physical appearances, but he couldn't deny that he thought you were kind of hot. You know, just because he appreciated you in an aesthetic sense. Nothing more.

“Dost I detect a bit of jealousy, fair maiden?” You stop in front of Donnie, bending slightly forward to get a better look at his face. You can see the corner of his lips move a bit.

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

His eyes pop open when he realizes you’re but inches away from his face. Taking a shaky step back, Donnie attempts to tamp down the blush that tries creeping into his cheeks.

You yawn and stretch, an even expression on your face to juxtapose his flustered one. “Not making fun, just forming a hypothesis.”

Shrugging off the lab coat, you carefully fold it up and hand it over to Donnie. A bit taken aback, he quietly takes it from you. He didn’t think he was right about you borrowing his clothes, but you did. And so casually too. You even folded it up the way he liked it, with the sleeves wrapped around the coat and everything.

There it was again. Annoyance bubbling up in his gut. It felt a little more like butterflies in his stomach, but Donnie didn’t know how else to describe the emotions he was feeling right now.

“Uh-huh.”

Donnie gulps, feeling unusually sheepish out of nowhere. You borrowed and used his stuff all the time, even being so bold as to enter his lab when he wasn’t there. He should still be mad at you, but he wasn’t. He swore you were really testing his bad-boy resolve right now, especially with the way you so easily moved around his space. Like you practically lived there. You opened up several drawers and cabinets to replace other materials you ‘borrowed’ from him, mostly just the protective gear like goggles and gloves.

Jeez, he felt like he was going soft. Donnie places his lab coat on another counter to hover behind you again. He watches on, almost admiring as you pack up the last of your lab equipment. He recognized most of the materials, but there was one thing that looked unfamiliar. Some kind of plate with an erlenmeyer flask.

Sucking up his pride, Donnie pokes at your shoulder from behind.

“What’s that?” He whispers.

His voice was so quiet, so polite. It kind of threw you for a loop. Turning around, you give him a small frown. “What’s what?”

“That. That thing.”

He points over your shoulder, and you feel your frown grow into a smirk. Maybe you could tease him like he did to you earlier. Feigning naiveté, you look him in the eye.

“I’m kinda busy here, Don.”

He heaves, picking up the plate and shoving it into your smug face.

“You know what I’m talking about! This thing that spins the liquid? I ascertain that it’s some kind of magnetic stirring device.”

Donnie moves it around in his hands, regarding with a cold, scientific stare. It doesn’t really do much to cover up the blush forming on his face. You smirk even harder, lowering his hand.

“The…magnetic stirrer?”

His eyebrows shoot up, looking from you back down to the plate. It wasn’t that straight-forward, was it? You looked pretty serious so Donnie takes you at your word.

“I see.” He cocks his head to the side.

You feel your heartbeat thrum in your chest watching him. He looked so enraptured with his head tilted like that, almost like a dog when it hears a new sound. If Donnie had ears, they would most certainly be perked up. You don’t bother to hide the warm smile that forms as you continue to enlighten him.

“You just put a magnetic doohickey in the flask and turn it on. I like it when the little tornado happens.” You grin, spinning your finger around to illustrate your point.

“Yeah, that part’s pretty cool.” Donnie nods and hands you the plate while holding onto the flask. The so-called ‘magnetic doohickey’ was just a little pill knocking around the bottom, and he spins it around in his hand, watching it clink against the glass.

You stand there for a second, him looking at the flask and you looking at him. You were both equally captivated.

After a while, Donnie realizes that you were probably waiting on him to hand you the flask. You were staring at him, after all. What other reason would you have to do that?

“Sorry,” he coughs, handing it back.

He looks you in the eye as you take it from him, your love-struck gaze nearly knocking him on his ass. He’s never seen that look on you before? At least, he didn’t think so. Donnie wasn’t that great at reading facial expressions either, but with your tinted cheeks and lowered eyelids, you were either drunk or coming down with something.

His heart dances in his ribcage as you walk past him, leaving him absolutely dumbfounded. You get even more comfortable when you take down your hair that you had pulled up into a loose bun. Your locks were a bit messy, but to Donnie they looked so inviting. He wondered how it would feel to touch your hair, just to see how it felt. For…scientific purposes.

“Enough science for today. I wanna relax…” You sigh, looking around the lab. “You don’t mind if I still keep floating around your space?”

You looked back to see Donnie absentmindedly wringing his hands together in worry. Or was he rubbing his palms together menacingly? You couldn’t really tell.

Donnie stammers a bit before shoving his hands into his pockets. Or at least at the side of his legs. He kind of forgot that he didn’t have any pockets. It was just the best bad-boy pose he could think of on the spot. Eventually, his hands flounder about until they land behind his head.

“Do what you will.” He tosses a lazy look your way before marching away.

“Sure.” You chuckle, strolling over to follow him.

You were used to following behind Donnie, you always kind of felt like you were trying to catch up with him most of the time anyway. His legs were just longer than yours, giving him a quicker gait than you. You were physically different in a lot of ways, obviously. Intellectually, you felt a little bit behind him as well. Sure, you were smart. You wouldn’t be where you were in college if you weren’t. But more than that, the fact that Donnie saw you as that much of an equal that he let you into his lab so much, let you watch him work on his own projects, it was secretly one of your favorite things you got to do with him.

You would never tell him that, of course. But you were grateful for Donnie taking the time to show you so much of his private life. It was a little piece of him that not many people got to see. You looked up to him, for better or for worse.

Walking behind him, you find yourself in a completely new environment. You knew he was expanding his lab all the time, slowly renovating more and more of the abandoned subway tunnels that the turtles called home. But this room was practically a greenhouse! There were countless plants covering the walls, pots and rows of soil laid out in a very organized fashion. So Donnie-like, this couldn’t have been anyone else’s handiwork.

“Didn’t know I was into gardening, huh? I know, it’s a bit of a shock to most people.” He smiles and stretches his arms out, presenting his organic creations to you. “Behold, my oasis.”

You have half a mind to tease him about it a little. You really didn’t have any idea that he had a passion for plants. You expected to see a man-eating plant, “Little Shop of Horrors” or something like that. But, it was just a regular garden. You marvel at the wide variety of produce he was growing.

“I didn’t know you had such a green thumb. Well, greener.”

You spin around, taking in all the sights. There were pumpkins, watermelons, carrots, anything and everything you could imagine. Maybe you wouldn’t ever have to go to the grocery store again.

“Isn’t it magnificent? I’m most proud of the tomatoes, I think they’re just starting to ripen.” Donnie smiles, leading you over by the small of your back to the planter on your left.

You don’t miss the little bit of physical touch he gives you. Back when you both weren’t as good of friends, you sort of kept a tally of how many times Donnie would instigate a handshake, a hug, anything physical really. You told yourself it was simply for research, but you knew you were lying.

“Ohh, nice.” You coo, looking over at the tomatoes. Most were still in the early stages, too small and too green to eat just yet. But there were a couple that were ready. You poke at one hanging on the vine.

“I need to adjust the humidity though. It’s getting a little too hot for the poor things.”

Donnie taps at his tech gauntlet, adjusting the temperature in the room remotely. Looking down at his wrist, you get a sneaky idea. You haven’t really tried outright flirting with him before, content to just daydream and doodle your crush away. You thought it would go away eventually if you just ignored it. But, it didn’t. And you wouldn’t know if it was worth it or not if you didn’t at least try.

While he’s still distracted by his screen, you casually try to lean up carefully against the planter. Placing your hands upon the curve of your waist, you playfully wink at Donnie when he looks back up.

“Aren’t I a hot little tomato?”

You see several thoughts flash behind Donnie’s eyes as he looks you up and down. He looks almost frantic, before finally settling on abject disgust.

“That is vile.”

Not one to pass up a challenge, you level him with a little kissy face and pop your foot. “Hey, I remember someone mentioning they had a childhood crush on Cheery Tomato.”

Donnie purses his lips. There you went, being annoying again. Even he knew flirting when he saw it right in front of his face. Yes, he did have a proclivity for people who were cute and mean. He hated to admit it, but you fell right into that category.

“Perhaps I did.” He admits, rolling his eyes.

You strike another pose, jutting out your hips to emphasize their presence. “And Atomic Lass?”

“My queen…” Donnie sighs, clutching at his chest dramatically. He couldn’t deny his history of fictional crushes.

“Who would have guessed you had strange tastes?” You drop the coquettish act and go back to a neutral stance.

Judging by the way Donnie was looking at you, with a little less revulsion, you figure that your attempt to flirt wasn’t a total wash. You’d have to keep trying though, you definitely needed more data points. You watch as he briefly attends to his other plants, checking their water levels and taking notes on their growth.

“Be that as it may, you are not a quote, unquote ‘a hot little tomato.’ Tomatoes aren’t that attractive of a fruit.”

As he moves to the pumpkins on the ground, he pulls out a piece of tailor’s tape to measure their circumferences. If he was going to grow the world’s largest gourd, he’d have to step up his game. Thinking about plant food and soil salinity management was the only thing keeping him from getting worked up about the way you were standing there. With your stupid, attractive hips and your sultry ways. Why was he so weak to your feminine wiles?

“So what fruit am I exactly? A sassy strawberry? A plucky peach? A beguiling blueberry?” You crouch down next to him, playfully bumping his shoulder.

His eyelids drop looking over at you. Two could play at that game.

After giving some serious thought, Donnie tried to compare you to the most applicable fruit. The most obvious answer to him would probably be something more unconventional, like a passionfruit. You were very passionate about most things, be it schoolwork or your shared interests. It was honestly the most attractive thing about you. But that would be too easy.

“You’re…much more of a meddlesome melon.” He smirks, rubbing at his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Your sensuous smile drops as soon as the words leave his mouth. If there was a sound effect to encapsulate the mood right now, it would be a pane of glass breaking. Or a car crashing.

You stand up so quickly you almost fall over. “A MELON?”

Somehow unaware of your shock, Donnie goes on. He felt Don Suave all of the sudden, a new twinkle in his eye.

“Yes. Sweet, edible, fleshy.” He purrs, shooting you a lurid smirk.

Did he really not realize what he was saying right now? Unconsciously, your eyes drop to look down at your chest, then back up at Donnie.

“I beg your pardon?” You inquire. You’re almost impressed by how shameless he was being. Almost.

Once again, you see Donnie try and put the pieces together in his mind. Slowly, it dawns on him. The inherent insinuation, the unintentional innuendo. For a split second, his eyes follow yours, down to your–

“Gah—! T-That’s not what I meant to say! I guess my mind just kind of went to—“

He puts his hands out, trying his best to placate you. But he quickly pulls them away, seeing how he was accidentally gesturing toward your chest. His face goes bright red, rivaling the hue of his prized tomatoes.

You blush, covering yourself up. “Stop talking about my boobs, dude!”

You’re not really angry with him, and you can’t help but start to laugh. Especially seeing the terrified expression on his face as he runs away from you, back out into the lab.

“FORGET I SAID ANYTHING!”

“Pfft–!” You chuckle, chasing after him. “No wait, come back!”

You have to book it to catch up with him again. You’re afraid you might have traumatized him by the way he’s curled up underneath his work table. You get on your knees again and crawl toward him. Like a feral cat, he scrambles away before you get too close.

“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you but, gosh, would you look at the time? I really should be getting back to…science stuff.” He clasps his hands together and paces around to the other side of the table.

You poke your head out and look up. “Science stuff?”

“Yes, yes. Now off you go!”

Taking the opportunity, Donnie grabs you by your hands and lifts you off the ground, leading you toward the doors. You gasp, feeling him so easily move you around.

“I can do science stuff too, y’know. Why can’t we do it together?”

Donnie gives you an exasperated look before picking up the pace. “Because you’ll distract me.”

“Oh, will I? Are my melons really that meddlesome?” You make yourself into deadweight, causing Donnie to actually use some force to pick you back up.

With an impish smile, you watch as his face contorts with barely contained rage.

“I will resort to physical violence.”

“I would love to see you try.”

Oh, you were really working on his last nerve. With no hesitance, Donnie lifts you up by your wrists and spins you out into the middle of the lab. Your head swims a bit at the sudden motion and you start to see stars. You hear Donnie grab for his tech bo and switch it to its full length, readying himself into an offensive position.

If Donnie couldn’t best you with a battle of wits, he would just have to prove himself in an actual battle.

“We may be evenly matched in terms of intelligence, but so soon you forget that I am also a ninja and a master of the mystic arts?”

He smirks, challenging you. After you come back to your senses, you take a moment to see if he was joking or not. You usually knew when Donnie was serious, and he seemed pretty serious. You didn’t have any ninja skills to speak of, so you were suspicious. He wouldn’t attack someone so cute and defenseless, would he?

“You’re all talk, purple. Let’s see if you can back it up!” You shout, shifting your foot placement to blade yourself to him.

Donnie and you stare daggers into one another, waiting for someone to make the first move. Looking at you draw your hands up into fists, he gets a much-needed reality check. He wouldn’t actually use his bo on you. Even he was above something so boorish.

However, he wasn’t above using other means of subduing you. His eyes flit over to your backpack, then back up to his own collection of chemicals. He quickly pads over to his stockpile, throwing the cabinet open and cackling like a mad scientist.

“What the–?” You turn your head, watching him rifle through a bunch of unlabeled containers.

“I’ll show you. I can create bioweapons just as good as you.” He chuckles, his eyes going dark and sinister.

You suddenly feel yourself become a little threatened. But, you try to keep your cool. Surely he wasn’t going to do weird experiments on you or anything. Not that you wouldn’t let him, in a much less hostile context.

Huh, where did that come from? You shake your head and turn to fully face him.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, make elephant toothpaste?” You joke.

Donnie chuckles lowly, taking two unmarked plastic jugs in his hands. He didn’t really remember what was what in his cabinet, he was still in the process of alphabetizing everything by elemental names. That wouldn’t stop him from unleashing a little bit of hell on you though.

“Mere child’s play! Watch as I combine a simple pnictogen hydride with some sodium hypochlorite, and…”

Your eyes go wide, and Donnie reaches for an empty beaker at his desk. For a smart guy, he was honestly kind of stupid. You step forward and put your hands on his his, stopping him before he manages to pour the liquids.

“Wait, that’s ammonia and bleach.” You frown.

Donnie shakes his head and chuckles at you again, a little more condescendingly. “You’re quite astute, but I suppose the layman's terms are more your speed.”

Okay, maybe you would die, but you really wanted to punch him right now.

“You’re making chloramine gas.”

He looks down at the containers for a moment before his eyes slowly meet yours. “Which is…?”

“Donnie,” you sigh. “It’s mustard gas.”

You mourn the fact that Donnie’s education was basically all self-driven and restrained mostly to what he could find on the internet. But you thought it was kind of common knowledge that you should never mix household chemicals like that. Donnie’s irises shrink, suddenly cognizant that he was this close to making a lethal gas.

“…Ah.”

He stills, about to put the ammonia and bleach away.

Then you both watch in slow motion as the tiniest drops from each container spill out and drop into the beaker. With lightning-fast speed, you launch yourself onto the table and shove the entire piece of furniture out of the way. With a loud crash, the beaker shatters onto the floor and the two potentially deadly drops land somewhere on your shirt. In your haste, you fall unceremoniously to the floor as well.

“Oww…” You hold your hand, a sharp pain shooting up your right arm.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Donnie shouts, picking you up and moving you to the counter.

He makes quick work looking you over, assessing your injury and making sure you’re not too hurt.

“Look up, how many fingers am I holding up?” He points up all six of his fingers to wiggle in your face.

“Less than ten, like usual. I’m fine, I promise.” You smile, shaking out your wrist. “Just landed a little wrong. But what about you? Were you trying to kill us all?”

Donnie sputters, bringing his hands down to look at them. They did almost kill you, even if it was by accident.

“I don’t understand. How did I not realize?”

Sometimes, Donnie couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He was so preoccupied with flexing his stupid knowledge on scientifically accurate chemical names that he didn’t even realize what he was doing. His hands drop to his sides, feeling positively shameful.

You feel your heart sink a bit seeing him so dejected. With a gentle kick to his side, you try and console him.

“Because the only thing bigger than your brain is your ego.” You quip.

When Donnie doesn’t reciprocate your joke, you realize maybe now wasn’t the best time for it.

He rubs at the side of his arm, too embarrassed to even look you in the eye.

Sighing, moves to sit beside you on the edge of the counter. “I guess I just have a little too much intelligence.”

You give him another little nudge, bumping your foot against his.

“Not a whole lot of wisdom.”

Finally, Donnie looks up at you. The DND reference isn’t lost on him, and he smiles a bit.

“Sorry for almost killing you. I want to say it won’t happen again, but…” He scratches at the side of his face awkwardly.

“It’s fine. I’ve accidentally made poison plenty of times. Just let me handle the chemicals from now on, okay?”

You reach your hand up and stop just before you touch Donnie’s back. You knew he was really sensitive about people messing with his natural, leathery shell. You don’t want to make the comparison to him having a tough exterior that housed a soft, sensitive inner self, but you can’t deny that it’s an apt comparison.

When Donnie realizes that you’re asking for his permission, he gives you a small nod. He’s actually a little touched that you’re being so delicate with him, when all he’s done is be unnecessarily rough and callous with you.

With the lightest touch, you pat him on the top of his shell. The velvety, slightly ridged texture was such a contrast to his brothers’. It feels a little weird, but nice.

Those wretched butterflies return to Donnie’s stomach, as well as the blush on his cheeks. He couldn’t really refute it any longer. Now that he was feeling you pet him so tenderly, he realized the answer that was staring him in the face all along.

He had a crush on you. A massive, embarrassing, debilatating crush.

After a minute or two of Donnie staring unabashedly at you, you try to break the tension.

“What?”

Without breaking eye contact, Donnie murmurs softly to you. “Nothing.”

You pull your hand away and place it back on your lap, twiddling your thumbs. You look around the lab, thinking of how best to navigate this situation. Donnie was giving you major heart eyes right now, even if he didn’t realize he was. Maybe you would have to be the one to take the lead on this.

“Seems to be a lot of chemistry going on around here lately.” You raise your hand up and cough into it, peeking back over to Donnie.

“C-Chemistry?” He stutters.

In his head, a million thoughts raced. Donnie had an internal dialogue with himself, trying to figure out the next course of action.

Oh my god. Did you just stutter?

No, this is not happening. Keep it together, man.

This is just playful banter. Don’t think about it like flirting. Now say something, anything!

After the voices in his head quiet down, Donnie takes a deep breath and says the first thing that comes to his mind.

“You’re pretty.”

You stop looking around the room, angling your head back to him. “What?”

Without thinking, Donnie tries to backtrack. He did think you were pretty, he really did. But playing the role of the emotionally distant loner just wouldn’t let him give you a genuine compliment.

“Pretty dumb! Hahaha, just kidding! Unless?” He spits, folding his arms and laughing awkwardly.

Okay, anything but that.

You watch as sweat begins to bead on his face, almost making his bandana darken in color. Donnie was a bit of a novice when it came to flirting, apparently. It was sweet.

“You’re pretty dumb too. Pretty and dumb.” You smile, scooching closer to him.

Abort mission. Disengage, Donatello. Don’t make it worse!

Donnie unfolds his arms and waves his hands around, defaulting to lecturing you instead of acknowledging your flirty comment. Info-dumping was sort of his only form of defense at this point.

“Love is just a mix of dopamine and oxytocin. Therefore, I am not in love with you. I am just feeling a chemical imbalance within my brain.” He states matter-of-factly.

With a mock gasp, you put your hand to your mouth. “That’s awful! Do you think it’s contagious?”

Donnie’s eyes search your face, not reading your tone at all. “That’s not— do you not know how the hypothalamus works?”

You’ve had just about enough of this cute charade, and you slide until your thighs are flush with one another. It shuts Donnie up completely, and your eyes meet.

With a cheeky smile, you lean even closer to his flustered face. “I don’t think you know how any of this works.”

Donnie’s face shifts in a multitude of shades, going from jade to scarlet. It’s a little weird to see a turtle blush, but you kind of liked it. But you didn’t want to torture the poor guy any longer, deciding to just cut right to the chase.

“For your own sake, I’m going to say this as plainly as possible: I have a crush on you.”

“Oh.” Donnie’s eyebrows raise. He’s a bit astonished, but he’s grateful for your straightforwardness.

So far so good, now to go in for the kill.

“May I kiss you? On the mouth. Sorry, I don’t know why I had to specify that.”

You blush in spite of yourself. You were usually pretty smooth, but for some reason Donnie’s dopey look was making you weak in the knees.

Donnie wets his lips a bit, growing slightly more aware of how dry they felt.

“Maybe just…mouth adjacent? To start with.” He shudders.

Donnie couldn’t believe it, but he felt all the tell-tale signs. Heart palpitations, limbs tingly and numb. He thought he was having some sort of episode.

“Sure,” you smile.

As you close the gap between you two, you make sure to just narrowly avoid hitting his lips. You gently place a kiss upon his cheek, lingering there for a bit longer than you ought to. To your delight, you feel Donnie’s tense shoulders immediately relax when your lips touch his skin.

“My god.” He sighs, leaning into you.

With thinking, Donnie starts to twist his head around. He thought he would be able to control himself from jumping straight into it, but your warm breath on his cheek was just too much.

As he turns his head, you move yours as well.

“Wow, I didn’t think I was that good.” You chuckle against his chin.

Donnie doesn’t even have enough of his faculties to give you a snide retort, too blissed out to speak. He somehow blushes even harder.

“Aah…” A soft sigh was all he could muster.

Jesus. Donnie was kind of cute when he was shy. Taking his silence as your okay to keep going, you cover every inch of his face in kisses. He never said you couldn’t smooch him multiple times. You grab him by the sides of his headgear and plant a couple more onto the vast expanse of his forehead, making him giggle.

“Ghehehe!” He chortles.

You stop, pulling away to look him in the eye. It seems that it took you both by surprise.

His eyes then begin to shift around nervously. “Uh…I didn’t mean it.”

“Aww!” You gush, smooching him on his snout. “Muah, muah, muah!”

“Hey, quit it already!”

Donnie shakes you off of him before pulling your hands away. He doesn’t realize the position he’s put you in, holding your wrists to the side and allowing him to tower over your form. You have to crane your neck just to maintain eye contact.

“Sorry, too much?” You give him a lopsided smile. “I didn’t realize you were such a hothouse flower.”

He nearly chokes hearing you call him such a delicate term. But you were unfortunately right, Donnie was vulnerable around you. More vulnerable than he let himself be around anyone else. His annoyance fades away looking down at your slightly flushed expression.

“It's weird, you’re like a whole person, who likes me…and I didn't create you in a lab. You’re real.” He smiles, a genuine show of his true emotions.

“What was that?” You wouldn’t just let him slip in that bit without a questioning look.

With a small chuckle, he drops your wrists. “Nothing.”

You absentmindedly bring your hands up, your fingertips brushing against your lips. You just realize you just confessed to Donnie, after nearly years of pining after him. Where did you stand now?

Donnie, feeling a little more comfortable, lets his head fall a bit. His forehead knocks against yours. He didn’t know how, but he figured he should probably give you some sort of response.

“I don’t hate you.” He hums into your hair, covertly reveling in your scent. “I mean, you know…”

You smirk. “Not exactly the declaration of love I was expecting. I suppose I should take that as a compliment though.”

“That’s the idea.” He sighs, snaking his arm around your waist.

You don’t mind Donnie sublimating a more traditional ‘I love you too’ with some physical touch. Maybe that was just how he communicated his feelings that were too big to put into words. You understood, without having to tease him too much. You’re happy just to be this close to him.

You make the move to place a hand on his upper thigh and return his embrace, hoping your touch was enough to tell him he was doing just fine. He still seemed a little nervous about holding you like this.

“I’ve never given you a compliment before.” Donnie muses to himself, moving his other hand up to pet your head. “Now that I think about it.”

“That’s absurd, of course you have!”

You try to list out an example…but you honestly couldn’t think of any. Your mouth opens and closes dumbly, making Donnie laugh.

“See? I’m bad at this.”

While he’s preoccupied with his private pity party, you reach over to his other leg and swing Donnie so that his legs lay on top of yours, effectively making him sit on your lap. The audacious move startles him, and his arms wrap around your neck seemingly by themselves.

“If I may be so bold…” He blushes, pushing your head into his chest. “I have a feeling you’re going to be working in my lab a lot more now.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look, Donnie.” You smile, cuddling up against him.

You’d be doing a lot more in his lab, but it probably wouldn’t be studying.

taglist: @saspas-corner

#rottmnt x reader #donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #sfw #requests

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twstbookclub · 1 year

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Tickled Pink, But It's a Skill Issue

Summary: Idia is anything but thrilled at the soulmate mark on his wrist. After meeting his soulmate on one sunny day though, he's having second thoughts. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa 🦋 Tags: Comedy, Slight Angst, Romance, Fluff, Soulmate AU, Minor Swearing, Idia Gamer Speak, The Absolute Cringelord that is Idia Shroud, and Minor Book 6 spoilers

Word Count: 1,218

Idia Shroud stared at the words tattooed on his wrist with a grimace. Throughout his eighteen years of living, it still baffled him that the words he was born with cursed with, more like it were four words that made him want to shrink from embarrassment. Anyone else might have wondered about their soulmate once they saw their mark, but Idia might as well die from cringe.

“Your hair is pretty,” he muttered, shuddering. Really? Idia would rather have anything—anything, really—for a soulmate mark. What kind of soulmate’s first words to him would be about his hair, an untamed trail of flames and emotion? Emotions that made it obvious to anyone that he’s either angry or embarrassed? Emotions bearing impossible dreams, brutally crushed during his childhood? Idia would rather his soulmate curse or insult him for how much of a shut-in he is. If he was going to take the L and spend the rest of his life with this one person, at least make it believable.

Must be a normie hopeless romantic, Idia thought as he tapped and typed on his holographic screens. The type who dreams of a knight who saves them from a dragon for an RPG quest. Just like those prissy, trash-tier snobs at RSA. Just like a cliché romance plot in a B movie.

Idia knew he shouldn’t think of his soulmate like this before even meeting them. People his age already found their soulmates at this point. Couples holding hands in the park, sharing a drink in the restaurant booth, and all of the typical, mushy, lovey-dovey things people in love do. Well, people that aren’t the Shroud family. With how robotic they are, Idia doubts if the Shroud pair ever fell in love. He didn’t care to know about how his parents found each other. Even if he was curious as a kid, his parents never gave him the time of the day. Not when they were too busy to even look at their children who were going to inherit the fate of the Shrouds.

A faint crackle made Idia glance at the lock trailing down his shoulder. The orange tips of his hair shone like the beginning of twilight in his room, which was Idia’s cue to calm down. He huffed, subconsciously typing more aggressively than usual, and willed himself to forget his feelings. The thought of his soulmate always worked him up, or was it his parents?

“Who cares? I need to log in and do my dailies. I don’t want to break my log-in streak just because of this.”

Idia spent another evening in his room with nothing but his games, shoving ridiculous sentiment aside and waiting for Ortho to come back from class.

The next day was supposed to be ordinary, bleak, uneventful. Idia only went outside the comfort of his room to grab the newest video games and manga he ordered. Classes should’ve kept every NRC student busy. He could’ve slipped in and out of daylight without anyone noticing him.

“Your hair is pretty.”

Why is the Ramshackle Prefect here? Better yet, why did the universe give him a soulmate that was always surrounded by drama? Is he the main character of some sick comedy? Are the gods making fun of him at this point?

Idia Shroud, a stuttering coward in the crowd and a callous bastard behind the monitor, wanted to disappear right then and there. The tips of his hair flickered between fiery red and hot pink. His amber irises switched from the Prefect’s eyes, the cobblestone of Main Street, the Lord of the Underworld’s statue, and back to the Prefect’s eyes before he remembered that he shouldn’t be looking at them in the first place.

Maybe Idia should’ve worked on that drone to grab his deliveries for him. Maybe he could’ve avoided this outcome. Then again, if he couldn’t avoid his fate of being stuck as the Watchman, Idia could never run away from this even if he tried to.

He knew your name. Everyone does. You were the infamous magicless student in Night Raven College. You always found yourself in troublesome situations and with the SSR Epic Troublemakers. Riddle Rosehearts? Leona Kingscholar? Azul Ashengrotto? Does he need to list more of them to get the point across?

More importantly, you’re his soulmate. You. His. Idia’s mind was on the verge of a shutdown until he remembered that he should reply to you instead of standing like a spooked cat drenched in the rain.

“What’s a normie like you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in class with the monster kitty?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why was his literal default being an asshole? His soulmate is standing not more than a meter in front of him, and he called them a normie. Brilliant. Can’t he level up his Charm stat just this once? Is he seriously having a skill issue right now?

While Idia was handling an internal battle with himself, you raised a brow. Oh no. He’s done it. Here comes the insult, the slap, the animosity he’s familiar with.

Except, you weren’t all those things.

“Did you just call me a normie?” You laughed, crossing your arms and grinning. The sound echoed in his ears, rattled his mind, and stole his every thought. Suddenly, Idia wanted to hear more of it. Honestly, this entire scenario feels like it was ripped out of a dating sim. This was getting into dangerous territory.

Idia’s hands hovered over his chest as he watched the magicless prefect. His shoulders visibly relaxed, but his fists clenched ‘til his knuckles turned ghostly pale. Well, that’s a first.

You kept going, undeterred by his insult, “It’s none of your business. I just wanted to say your hair’s pretty. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

You… didn’t know him. Idia didn’t know whether he should collapse from relief or cry about how invisible he was to you. Is this what it felt like to be a forgettable side character in a Triple-A game? Since when did it matter what you thought of him? Since when did he decide that you calling his hair pretty wasn’t cringe? Since when did his hair glow bright pink?

“Nevermind. I don’t have time for this.” You shook your head and walked around him. Idia almost grabbed your wrist out of instinct. As if this scene was straight out of a shoujo manga where the main character tries to reach out to her love interest before confessing. His hand shot back to his chest as if he was burned.

Oh great Seven, he’s turning into a walking cliché at the sight of his soulmate.

Idia’s heart jumped into his throat when you looked back at him with a knowing smirk. One that he knows will damn him for the rest of his life just because he wanted to get his video games and manga. Idia wanted to die on the spot at what you told him next.

“Look, you’re hot and all, but seriously? Pro tip: don’t insult your soulmate on sight. Make a better first impression next time, alright?”

Oh.

Idia will make damn sure that he finishes that drone before he sees you again. Otherwise, he’ll combust on the spot and the pink flames will be screaming his infatuation for you.

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theautisticgamer · 5 months

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The Pomni Theory (The Amazing Digital Circus)

Who is Pomni? That's a question a lot of people have been trying to crack. And I assure you this isn't a take you've heard yet.

Let's first establish what she's not. Most assume she is a gamer, and at first glance this makes sense. After all, why put on a VR headset if you're not one? Except there is an important clue that shows us this probably isn't true. As a gamer myself, I would not be immediately trying to take this headset off. As a gamer, I want to play this game for a bit, meet its cast, do some missions, especially considering how innovative this tech was for the late 90s-early 2000s when the show is set. Yet she is not excited about this experience in any way shape or form; Pomni immediately tries to rip off the headset. Some may say this is because of her amnesia, but if she remembers sitting at the desk and putting on the headset, surely she would have remembered wanting to put it on if she was a gamer. I think this rules out her being a game developer as well; would she be this startled by her work? She doesn't display nearly as much knowledge about the digital realm as some of the other amnesiac humans. But if she's not a gamer or a game developer, what is she, and what is her motive for putting on the headset?

I think an important hint regarding her character could be a piece of disturbing concept art created by Gooseworx, depicting Pomni on a crucifix, as well as the show's ending scene depicting Pomni at the center of a long table, which looks like the painting of The Last Supper. Both imagery compare Pomni to the likeness of Jesus Christ. I don't think this reference is religious per-say, this jester can't save you from your sins, but with The Amazing Digital Circus's story being inspired by an agnostic story, "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream," the connection can't be ignored. This imagery suggests Gooseworx sees some sort parallel between them.

Whenever I've used imagery alluding to Jesus outside of my faith-based work, I've used it to indicate a character is making a sacrifice, putting their lives on the line and risking injury or death for the sake of others, imagery I've used or would use for soldiers, policeman, field agents, or firemen. That could mean Pomni is a one of these things, though I would skew this down to policeman, detective, or a private investigator. Pomni's motive to put on the headset, then, is to pursue the only lead in her file of many Missing Persons cases tied to the C&A company. Her sacrifice, for the sake of the imagery, is unknowingly putting her safety and life at risk in order to solve the cases, bring their families closure, and if possible rescue the missing people themselves.

However, I've been chewing on my initial theory a bit more, and I may have a second theory for the imagery that's probably more likely. Who is Jesus? He is the son of God, He is the son of the Creator. Could she be the daughter of creator of the game? Could she be the daughter of one of the partners who created C&A? While I'm more compelled by this theory, it lacks a motive as to why she'd put on the headset. Was she at her father or mother's office for a visit, found a headset and was just curious, expecting it was just a funny pair of glasses she could take off immediately just to find it didn't come off?

This latter theory may or may not have extra support. Gooseworx drew a short non-canon comic where Caine discusses with Pomni that he and her mother were getting a divorce. It spurs on a series of silly jokes, but, it's odd to set up Pomni as Caine's daughter or stepdaughter in the first place, isn't it? Unless Caine was a symbolic placeholder for a father-figure who created the game or the company that produced it. I also feel like Pomni originally being intended to be a male lead during early concepts supports the "son of the creator" idea. They may have switched to a female to make this connection less obvious for a bigger reveal later on.

Keep in mind that this is just a theory based off the recent pilot and may fall apart as we get more information in future episodes of the show, in future interviews with Gooseworx or Glitch Productions employees, etc.

But alas, these are just two theories regarding the identity of Pomni. I've been wanting to write TADC theory material for a while, and the show's given me so much to think about. Do you think I may be on the right track about Pomni's identity, or have theories of your own? I'd love to hear from you in the comments.

#the amazing digital circus #pomni #theory #gooseworx #glitch #glitch productions #pilot episode #amazing #digital #circus

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outeremissary · 5 days

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Gamers I am Losing My Fucking Mind tonight because I wanted to relocate the iconic ugly ass powder blue shitty business miniskirt with fishnets outfit that my poor courier was fucking stuck in most of the game in New Vegas just to see it again for laughs since it's unfortunately her iconic look to me and I. I can't find it. I can't find a trace of this wretched thing. There's no proof I can find that it exists. I wouldn't make this up I could never make up this atrocity I hate this stupid outfit so much. Where is it. I feel like I'm being lied to. It looked like this by the way and it was a really unappealing powder blue

I've lost all my saves for that game on a computer I no longer have access to I can't just open the game to check. I have no screenshots. I have old sketches of it I swear I have old sketches of it from closer to when I played the game but I can't fucking find them. Where is it what is it it has to exist it must exist what am I missing

#please tell me I didn't make this up I have no idea how I could have made it up #help.#rambling #doodles

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densesindealer · 2 months

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Neo World: Pacification Program

Hello everyone, Dense here! This story, Neo World: Pacification Program, wasn't a solo effort. @thelewdpokemanik and I have been working, and intend to continue working on this story together. We're writing each chapter as a pair, so forgive us if you sometimes notice some differences between our two styles of writing.

You can also find this story, and stay the most updated on it, on AO3, which can be found here.

The idea for this story was born out of the desire to work on a story together, and after brainstorming we came up with this! We found the idea to be fun and unique, and decided to just throw ourselves at it and enjoy the ride.

As always, comments, kudos and whatever else you desire are never required, but we do love getting the feedback.

Without further ado, Poke and Dense present, Neo World: Pacification Program! We hope that you all enjoy this journey with us. <3

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Chapter One: Problems, Planning, Pacification

“How the hell did this happen?” Mondo screamed, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair, making the metal creak painfully. His voice bounced off the walls of the mechanical operation room housing the Neo World Program computer, which really, was a gross understatement. It was a true marvel of technological advancement, including all the monitors, storage banks, the pods containing the sleeping members of his senior class- and many more things Makoto couldn’t even hope to understand.

The biker was hunched in his seat as if he were prepared to lunge if he didn’t like the answer, though Makoto knew better.

He still grimaced in his seat. “We- aren’t sure? I mean, obviously, one of the Remnants must have brought the virus with them, but…”

“We don’t exactly have the Ultimate Programmer here with us to follow along with the Neo World Program’s code,” Celeste said, ignoring the way Mondo twitched at her words. The biker had never gotten over Chihiro’s death at Toko’s hands, and honestly, there was a very real chance he would never move on. Well, it's not like Makoto had any room to talk, of course.

The only reason he could count the number of deaths he hadn’t gotten over on his hands was because only ten students had died during the Killing Game. Their Killing Game now.

Because there might very well be a second one soon.

“No doubt, that Izuru fellow had ulterior motives in helping us. I said he wasn’t trustworthy from the start, but of course, someone wouldn’t listen to reason…” The gambler said, shooting Makoto a look many would call venomous, but Makoto could see that while frustrated, there was next-to-no anger there.

“We wouldn’t have been able to find and capture all the Remnants without his help, Celeste, you know that. And Chiaki vouched for him, didn’t she?”

Indeed, Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer and former Class Representative of Class 77, had vouched for the mysterious Ultimate. She had also been the one to approach Makoto, asking for his help saving her classmates, though he couldn’t say he understood why she trusted him in particular with this. It could have been that he was the Ultimate Hope, or maybe that he was the unofficial leader of the surviving class of Junko’s game. He didn’t know why she chose him over any of his other classmates. He did however know that the rest of Future Foundation would have categorically refused, if not outright arrested her for even proposing this, where he was eager to help.

Of course, things had escalated since then.

And that was before Monokuma came back, somehow.

Celeste clicked her tongue. “That girl is too much like you, Makoto. She would vouch for her killer as she bled to death.”

Makoto laughed awkwardly at that, though he hardly felt jovial. This was worse than what he’d thought the worst-case scenario would be.

“So, what do we know?” Kyoko’s calm voice sounded through the laptop’s speaker.

The detective was working in concert with Sakura, helping keep the heat off the other survivors as they went MIA with the Remnants- no, with Class 77.

“Well, things were working properly in the beginning. Usami was taking care of the students, and as expected, Izuru was replaced by his former self, Hajime Hinata. Chiaki did warn us that this would happen, so...” Makoto explained half-heartedly, his mind still focused on the issue at hand.

“So the likelihood that it is relevant is minor,” Kyoko nodded along, also focused on the more pressing issue. “What then?”

“Well, Monokuma appeared.” Makoto explained, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach he’d felt at the sight. For a moment, he’d almost thought it a nightmare if not for the way Celeste’s clawed hand had been digging into his shoulder like a talon.

“But wasn’t Usami supposed to be armed to deal with viruses and attacks?” Sakura’s calm voice asked from Kyoko’s monitor. “What came of that?”

“Monokuma overpowered her, somehow. He stole her administrator privileges and, uh, repainted her and is calling her ‘Monomi’. As far as we can tell, her actual AI hasn’t been affected in this process, probably for him to enjoy her suffering.” Makoto explained, only for Celeste to jump in.

“We’ve confirmed that Monokuma was attacked by the rabbit in some fashion, but none of us here can actually decipher what Fujisaki and Gekkogahara’s work does.” Celeste shot Makoto a smirk then. “I suppose all we can do is Hope it’ll be enough.”

The Ultimate Hope groaned. Ever since Celeste had called him that on live television, it had, effectively, become his official title, and the gambler was more than happy to tease him about it at every opportunity. Not to mention teasing him in other ways…

Makoto shook off his blush and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Usami seems to have done something during their fight, but what exactly, we really can’t tell…”

Kyoko hummed for a moment, before continuing. “Monokuma took over the program, but to what extent?”

Makoto grimaced again. “Almost completely. Usami’s been completely depowered, we can’t interfere at all with what’s happening inside- Though, we still have access to the cameras and can import stuff in-”

“You. Will. Not. Enter that simulation, Makoto Naegi. I forbid it,” Celeste said, her voice cold as ice, and Makoto felt his blood run cold. “No doubt that bitch left those untouched expressly to make you jump in like the self-sacrificing idiot you are.”

Yeah… Celeste still hadn’t forgiven him for not throwing Kyoko under the bus during Junko’s staged trial. At least, she hadn’t tried to kill him.

Makoto could still clearly see the scar Celeste had left on Kyoko’s face with her claw on her monitor. The pale line went from the corner of her mouth, and stretched out to just under her cheekbone, pulling slightly whenever Kyoko spoke.

Kyoko didn’t seem to bregrudge Celeste for it however. ‘I have worse scars’ she’d once said, ‘and this one I deserve.’

Celeste’s choice of words had been a lot less…diplomatic. ‘Should’ve taken the lying whore’s tongue with it.’ or, something to that effect…

Makoto chose not to linger on it, honestly. He had lost too many friends to begrudge those that had survived.

“I agree.” Sakura said, followed by Kyoko’s silent nod.

“Guys…” Makoto tried to plead his case, that he wasn’t actually that bad-

“If he tries, I’ll tie him down to his chair,” Mondo promised, making Celeste scoff.

“You won’t touch him, you brute. No, if Makoto does anything stupid, he’ll answer to me.”

The luckster couldn’t quite hide his wince at that. Celeste could kill a man with her words, but never did they cut so deep as when she tried to imprint on Makoto that she was going to find a way to stop him from passing on before the rest of them. It always hurt to know he worried her so much, especially when he could see the tears held back tightly just behind her mask.

And it’s not like Makoto wanted to sacrifice himself or anything. He’d be perfectly happy never putting his life in danger again, thank you very much.

But on the other hand, he was incapable of refusing to offer his help when someone needed it. Not that he wanted to be the kind of person who would, in all honesty.

Anyway.

“Celeste, you said ‘that bitch’ earlier?” Kyoko asked, bringing the conversation back on topic (thankfully for Makoto). “Then, do you think…”

“That this is one of Enoshima’s ploys? Obviously. It’s got her name written all over this.”

“But- she’s dead, right?” Mondo asked, and Makoto nodded definitively.

Though he hadn’t seen her corpse himself, well…

The Remnants had brought enough pieces back to remove any doubt he might’ve had.

“Yes, but I don’t think she was stupid enough to actually stop her planning at her death. No, Enoshima is far too clever for that.” Celeste said, a note of begrudging respect in her voice that Makoto could only agree with.

Junko was many things. Insane, sado-masochistic, cruel, self-destructive-

But most of all, she was intelligent. Incredibly so.

If she wanted to plan something like this, even something that would only come to pass after her death, she definitely could.

“But how, is the question.” Sakura said. “Fearsome as Junko is, she cannot rise from the dead.”

Hopefully.

“No. But she has spent many years in the same class as the Ultimate Programmer as he developed Alter Ego technology, and was familiar with the Ultimate Neurologist.”

Kyoko’s voice almost seemed like it deafened Makoto for a moment as her words shot through him.

“Are you saying- Junko…”

“Made an Alter Ego herself? I don’t know. But I think it is a very real possibility, especially since she has been known to be very adept with technology in the past. It would explain how efficiently she took over the simulation. If Usami wasn’t fighting one AI, but two…”

Mondo’s jaw was tightly set. “Then it was two on one, and Usami couldn’t fight back.”

“She did manage to infect the Monokuma AI with something, so to say she was powerless would be false, but whether or not she was effective…” Sakura let the sentence hang.

She didn’t need to say it for everyone to understand.

“All we can do is wait, regrettably.” Celeste finally said, and Makoto found himself squirming slightly.

Yeah… Nothing anyone could do.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to see. Makoto, Celeste, please keep us abreast of the situation as it evolves. As of now, it seems like the Killing Game has yet to begin, but that could change at any moment.” Kyoko said, and Makoto wanted to jump up and say there was no chance it would begin at all-

But he knew better, sadly.

“I’ll make sure Yasuhiro is informed about the situation discreetly.” Kyoko added, and Makoto nodded absent-mindedly.

Hiro was still in the heart of Future Foundation, working and acting as if nothing was wrong at all.

He was ideally placed to learn about Future Foundation’s movements, but it also meant that all of his communications were heavily scrutinized- no doubt Kyoko would need to sneak the message to him somehow. It also meant that, under no circumstances could Hiro hint at knowing Jabberwock Island even existed, and especially not send a message here.

After a few perfunctory goodbyes, Mondo stomped back outside the room, no doubt looking to take out his anger on something or other, while Makoto sagged back in the chair he’d been occupying a few hours ago when Monokuma first appeared.

God, what a nightmare…

Makoto looked into the screen in front of him, jumping from camera to camera and observing the 16 students who were now stuck inside the game he’d only just escaped with his life a few months ago.

And there was nothing he could do to help except hope for the best.

…

Unbidden, Makoto’s eyes drifted to the second monitor, the one showing the drives of the Neo World Program.

He’d gone through them wildly when Monokuma first appeared, but he could barely understand what was in it, let alone figure out what had changed.

Though, there was one thing he’d recognized, if only because it was possibly labeled explicitly for him, or whoever was using the program when something went wrong.

“So? What’s your backup plan?” Celeste asked from the seat next to him, making him jump.

“Gah! C-Celeste!? Wh-What are you talking about!?” Makoto tried to deny it, but Celeste only smiled at him.

“You’re hiding something, Makoto, and not very well. Not that you can hide anything from me of course.” Was that a note of smugness in her voice?

But it was true that Celeste could read him like a book. Maybe that was the price to pay for him to be able to see past her mask himself.

Makoto sighed, before navigating the drive back to the simply named folder he’d found earlier today.

‘In Case Of Usami Failure!’

And inside that folder was a single program, and a text document, which Makoto opened, before sliding his chair out of the way for Celeste to read herself.

“Thank you very much~” Celeste said, leaning over Makoto and making him blush as he felt her body pressing into him lightly as she read.

He looked away, though his eyes struggled to find where to land for a moment, before he eventually closed them, not needing to read the file again.

He’d done so again, and again, and again already.

‘Hello! If you’re reading this .txt file, then this must mean something went wrong that Usami failed to fix! Depending on what or why, you might need to take matters into your own hands! If you do, here’s what you need!

In this folder, you will find a .exe program! It is functionally the same thing as the Pacification Program Usami carries with her, except you can direct it yourself, should the need arise. To do so, all you must do is boot up the .exe, and navigate through the island using the 3D render the program offers. Simply select a target, and focus the Pacification Program to whatever intensity may be needed.

This does of course come with risks, so please take care to use this responsibly. The subjects inside of this program are treated as ‘rogue code’ by the Pacification Program, and this can affect the Rehabilitation Program the Neo World Program’s foundation rests on. As it is designed to do in the worst-case scenario, the program will first move to pacify the malicious code to prevent it from further harming the Neo World. From there it will attempt to alter the base coding of the target into something more useful for the system moderator.

The Pacification Program is relatively untested, and it should only be used in the case of an extreme emergency! If at all possible, contact technical support before resorting to this option. Love love <;3’

Makoto only had to wait a moment before Celeste’s eyes turned back toward him, the rubies glinting with intelligence as she took her seat again, her hands folded in her lap primly.

“So?” She asked, and Makoto grimaced.

“I tried using it on Monokuma, but it couldn’t select him as a target. Maybe it’s because he’s not an original part of the program, or maybe it's because Usami did manage to infect him and he can’t be targeted again or something. I tried using the 3D map to search the island, but it’s literally changing as I navigate it, and some parts are completely closed off and inaccessible, like the ruins. As far as I can tell, it isn’t really useful in this situation.”

Celeste’s smile widened a fraction. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t be so bothered by it.”

Makoto smiled shakily. “You know me too well…”

“Fufufu~ Oh, Makoto, you couldn’t be more wrong~” Celeste slightly teased him, but her eyes were still serious.

“Well, I tested the program for a little bit. It all seems focused on calming people down, making them more compliant, less aggressive, etc. I can target everything on the island with it, except for Monokuma, as I said. I think it works just as it's advertised, making sure conflicts don't happen on the island.”

Makoto paused for a moment, staring back at Celeste’s pale face.

“If- the worst came to pass, I was thinking maybe I could use it to stop things from- happening?” Makoto winced at his own words as he tried to tip-toe around actually saying what he was worried about.

“You think you could use this Pacification Program to stop a murder, should it come to that?”

“It shouldn't have to, but- I know better than that. My hope is that if one of them does fall to that temptation, I can stop it before it's too late, save them where I- '' Makoto choked on the words before they finished leaving his mouth.

Where I couldn't save them before.

The words were left unsaid, but both knew what he had been getting at. The loss of their friends still weighed heavy on all of the survivors, and him more so than anyone else.

His guilt cut him deeper than anyone else’s did, his heart almost bleeding out of his chest sometimes, and Celeste no doubt recognized the pain he felt so vividly still. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, always had, and now was no different.

He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, letting his shoulders fall with it. “Like I said, I hope I won’t have to use it, and not only because I want to believe in them, but also because, well, I’m not a genius. I think I can figure it out, but I’m sure there’s a reason it's supposed to be for emergencies only. On the other hand…”

“If this isn’t an emergency, then what is, hm?” Celeste finished the thought, a clawed finger resting on her chin, her eyes still drilling into Makoto.

For a moment, the pair sat in silence, only disturbed by the simulated ambience coming through the cameras and the sound of machinery all around them.

It was strange how things happened.

When Makoto had first met Celeste, he had only felt deceit and danger coming from her, and had actively feared being left alone with her, lest she somehow manage to talk him out of all of his worldly possession, or worse, into a game of mahjong.

But now, sitting next to her, on the run from what now stood as the government, harboring fugitives on a deserted island and hoping they would survive, he wasn’t sure there was anyone he trusted more.

O-Of course, he trusted all of his friends from Class 78! No doubt about that! Mondo had sworn to protect him more than once, and Sakura had been ready to lay her own life down to save them all. Hiro might act like a doofus, but even now, he worked at the heart of Future Foundation to help them, and though Kyoko might act cold, he knew that she cared for all of them deep down.

Though she might’ve not trusted him as he trusted her in the past, it was the past, truthfully. Kyoko had changed, and seen the error of her ways. Even now, she was trusting them with this project, when all of their lives may very well lie in the balance.

But still, sitting here with Celeste, he felt, at peace, almost.

As if anything was possible.

Even beating Junko for a second time, and stopping a tragedy from repeating itself.

Makoto took another deep breath. “Thanks for volunteering to stay with me here, Celeste.”

The girl’s pale face split into a smile. “Well, if you do feel so grateful, maybe you’d like to pay me back~”

Makoto’s face exploded into a blush as Celeste teased him, again, and he turned away from her to instead focus on the monitor.

Another round of camera checks told Makoto that all of Class 77 was sleeping in bed. Which was normal, of course. The simulated time matched the time on the real island, and it was approaching- wow, two in the morning?

Well, Makoto had been very busy thus far, of course, but still.

He swallowed a yawn and blinked, hard.

“Are you planning to stay here all night?” Celeste asked, only half-surprised.

“Well, night time is dangerous, right? You’re the one who introduced the night time rule, Celeste.” Makoto said, but Celeste only rolled her eyes.

“Of course you are. What, are you planning to stay awake forever?”

Makoto looked away. “Of course not, but…”

But Makoto simply didn’t know when to leave. What if the moment he abandoned his vigil something happened? Should he sleep when the students went to bed? But that would also be when they were at their most vulnerable, wasn't it? Should he sleep during the day then? But that didn't seem right either, wouldn't that be when most of them were out and about?

“You are ridiculous, Makoto. The worst possible outcome is you falling asleep unexpectedly.”

“No, the worst possible outcome is me failing these people and letting the Killing Game start again.” Makoto snapped, only to immediately regret his harsher tone.

For a moment, a more uncomfortable silence reigned in the operating room, and Makoto felt as if he had something stuck in his throat, at least until Celeste stood up, and laid her hand on his shoulder.

“Go to sleep, Makoto. No one will make a move so soon. We can arrange a schedule tomorrow, and make sure one of us is always watching in the future.” Celeste said softly, and Makoto felt his unknowingly tense shoulders sagging.

He wanted to try and justify staying up, but he was cut off by another yawn, making Celeste giggle.

“As usual, your body is incredibly honest~” Celeste said, and Makoto felt a blush rise to his cheeks as her fingers rolled on his shoulder for a moment, before pulling at him lightly. “Come on. Walk me to my room, hm? You’d be a failure of a knight to not escort your lady.”

Makoto couldn’t stop his tired chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

As Makoto stood up, he couldn’t help but agree with his earlier thought.

He really was glad Celeste was here with him.

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They'd won, but it sometimes didn’t feel that way. He bore the pain of ten lives lost, the grief that came from losing them. Though unlike his fellow survivors, he even mourned the final loss of their game. For as much wrong as she did, he had wished, still did in many ways, that he could have saved Junko from her own pit of despair.

Her laugh, even if it sounded hollow, the proclamation that despair made Junko everything she was, all before she sealed her own fate. She'd never given him the chance to argue against it, and sometimes he chose to believe it was that she knew he would have succeeded. Makoto never had that chance, and she put herself through a gauntlet of despair, every execution she ever inflicted on their classmates, all in one bundle for her to face.

Yes, even her death hung heavy upon him, though not the heaviest of their losses, not nearly the heaviest.

When Mukuro took Byakuya's life, it pained him the same way. He'd never managed to break through Byakuya's shell, not as much as he wanted. He'd never really known who Mukuro truly was, but he always saw glimpses of the true girl buried beneath the disguise she wore.

She'd told him once she held out hope that he would stop Junko, though she never said her name, she never had the chance before she was dragged away to her own punishment. He still couldn't understand why she chose Byakuya as her victim, what of his demeanor screamed a traitor even Mukuro didn't know of.

He always blamed himself though, like Mukuro was protecting him from Byakuya's consistently cruel comments. Every time they visited him at night they didn't hesitate to remind him of that.

Makoto would never claim they were alone, they all blamed him, just as much as he did. Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Leon, they visited on occasion, not as much as the others, not that he felt the bitter sting of their loss any less.

He should have noticed the way Hifumi was breaking down, the longer they stayed, the lessening grip on reality. Yet he didn't, he spent less time with Hifumi than any other member of his class, and that was something he could have, no should have changed.

As Hifumi broke down, his reality became incomprehensible, a merge of his stories, his adoration of all things 2D, and utter despair of not having his crutch. He supposed Alter Ego had been the boy's tipping point, nobody there to ground him, he fell into the trap of viewing Alter Ego as a living, breathing person, and refused to let go.

Asahina suggesting they use the AI, sophisticated as it was to break down Monokuma, was the final nail in both of their coffins. She had become a threat to the only thing keeping Hifumi's fragile hold on his own sanity, and it took more than just the pair down with him. Kiyotaka was just an unfortunate accident to make everything worse.

Long after Asahina had lost her life, after Hifumi had bloodied his hands, Kiyotaka found him. If Makoto had known, if he had been there to stop him, he'd still be here. He could have stopped their fight, talked them down, Hifumi would never have fallen, and Kiyotaka wouldn't have faced execution.

The moral compass that man possessed would never have allowed him to let it lie. A simple confrontation to stop Hifumi from doing what he didn't know had already been done. It was far too late, and Hifumi was far too gone.

Makoto may not know exactly how it happened, but he certainly knew the outcome, a single fall down a staircase, the wrong landing on a bannister, and an execution of a man who hadn't intended any harm. Three lives lost because he wasn't there when he needed to be.

Toko was always the one who found humor in that, despite Makoto finding none. She always found the death of a friend funny, well not Toko precisely. Her crippling case of a split personality found twisted enjoyment in it, or Makoto imagined she did. Her hands weren't clean of blood, and she didn't think twice about reminding him that he had stained his own with hers.

If he had just been more understanding, pushed harder for Chihiro to trust him. If he had just truly befriended the scared boy, she never would have had such an easy target. If he had been able to show that their secrets were always safe, Toko would never have sunk into herself further than ever, her other self never would have been let free.

Toko finding out that her perfect prey was right in front of her, no longer in control? It was a spark in the powder keg, and she was never coming back from the explosion that ensued. No, he had failed them, and they paid the ultimate price for it.

Yet still, they never hurt the worst, no they never could. While he had believed he could have done more, he knew that in truth, it was always a pipe dream. Blaming himself for what was mostly out of his control.

They weren't. That was his failure, the trump card of his nightmares. Whenever he saw that fiery red hair, or heard that sickeningly sweet laugh, that was when it hurt the most. Why shouldn't it? It was the first of his many failures, but more than that it was the only one that he knew he could have done more.

Yes, Sayaka Maizono was his biggest regret, his biggest failure, his most painful memory. The videos were such a simple motive, yet they were the most effective. He remembered it clear as day, holding her in his arms as she shed every tear she could, and he didn't even say anything that made it better, not truly.

Yet he didn't pay for that failure, Leon took on that debt.

If Makoto had stayed with Sayaka that night, neither of them would have been hurt, they'd be safe. He knew she was scared and he left her, yet that wasn't what truly sealed their fates.

No, it was still Sayaka's plan. He believed he'd helped her, but he should have known better. He should have known from the way she spoke that she was lying to him. Of course he didn't, he was too blind to the truth, he cared too much, trusted with too much, and left as she had asked.

Their fate was that which haunted him the most. The ring of a doorbell, a plan set in motion, a shower to dread cleansing himself in.

He could never truly know what happened that night. He could deduce, extrapolate, hope, imagine, fear- but never really know.

Still, he’d seen the scene in his nightmares so frequently he could almost believe it was undeniable truth.

Sayaka’s fear, her guilt, her resolve as she played him for a fool, planning to make him take the fall for him.

Was it relief she felt when Makoto agreed to switch rooms? Or maybe resignation?

And when she wrote those words, invited Leon to his room- did she know she was starting the Killing Game? Did she care?

She could’ve stopped there, couldn’t she? Could’ve tore the letter to shreds and flushed it down the toilet in the morning, and no one would’ve known.

Or maybe the moment she began writing, she had already chosen her path.

Maybe it was the moment she met Makoto deep into the night.

Maybe it was the moment the Killing Game rules were announced.

Makoto couldn’t know. He would never be able to know. That was the cruel finality of death.

Still, the thoughts haunted him, and nightmares regarding Sayaka, not to mention all of his other friends plagued him.

But this wasn’t a nightmare.

This was reality.

A cruel trick, a tragedy repeating itself right in front of his eyes.

Makoto stared unseeingly at the monitor as Nagito walked away from the Ultimate Impostor’s cabin, having just slipped a note under his door, an hour before the morning announcement.

His fingers felt numb as he gripped the desk in front of him like a buoy, the only thing stopping him from falling off his chair and drowning in a sea of despair.

“Makoto. Breathe.” Celeste said next to him, her hand digging into the flesh of his arm, and Makoto’s lungs felt like they would explode as he breathed in shakily.

“Wh-What-” Makoto’s voice broke for a moment, and he cleared his throat. “What does the letter say?”

Celeste paused for a moment, hesitating, before navigating the cameras, though her hand never left him, for which he was thankful. He needed the anchor, desperately.

Celeste found the Impostor’s room camera, and paused again.

“Celeste?”

She grit her teeth.

“‘Be careful. The first kill will happen tonight. Someone will definitely kill someone.’”

Makoto could almost smell the faint smell of lavender in the air, and for a moment, he was back on those trial grounds, listening to Kyoko explain Sayaka’s plan.

Celeste’s nails bit into his flesh through his suit.

No. No, he couldn’t allow this to happen.

Numbly, he navigated the drives, and found the Pacification Program folder once more, only to pause when Celeste pulled at him.

His eyes met hers, only to come face-to-face with her full trust, and Makoto couldn’t help but relax, just a little bit.

She didn’t say anything. Only nodded, once, seriously, which Makoto returned, first tiredly, but then resolved.

No, he would stop this Killing Game from starting. He had to.

His free hand left the desk, and instead settled on Celeste’s own hand, feeling her cold fingers under his.

“I can't let this happen.” She hadn't questioned him, but he provided an answer anyway.

“I would never suggest you did, I know better than that. Always the noble knight.” Her soft tone was a warming comfort he needed, even if only a few words.

With a tightened determination settling in his chest, he drew his eyes back to the computer screen. The debate they could have had about this decision was solved before it ever truly began.

He wouldn’t allow Nagito to kickstart the Killing Game. He wouldn’t allow anyone to do so.

And when he opened the Pacification Program, it was with resolve and hope bolstering his heart.

#thelewdpokemanik #densesindealer #danganronpa18 #Makoto Naegi18

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