#useless idea glitch in the colours

[uselessidea]

Useless Idea: http://www.uselessidea.it

#useless idea #useless idea glitch in the colors #useless idea glitch in the colours #idm #braindance #warp records 1990 #cesare bignotti #cesare bignotti music #useless idea music #aphex twin #aphex #richard d james #suction tecords #suction #suction records idm #ambient #electronic music #aphex twin electronic music

[heartthrobin]

blue light (2)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is (slightly less) emotionally constipated, angst, swearing, jealous miguel, stalkerish behaviour, reader is a bit of a meanie (she's a villain after all), drinking, classic college kid shenanigans, implied one night stand, reader is highkey stubborn (she’s been hurt let’s not judge), happy ending this time i promise

an: next part to yellow light! i hate leaving stories with an unhappy ending so i had to work this out :) also the taglist was formed from this post before anyone asks again. remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: someone's following you. you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

part one

jumping between dimensions is exhausting work.

fuck what any spider-person had to say, they have fancy little watches that let them drift between earths as they pleased. they should try falling through a super collider every once in a while, not to even mention the glitching. like every molecule in your body is being ripped apart and reattached with wet wood glue.

and all that pain for a man. the notion makes you sick.

fuck Miguel too. fuck him especially.

you'd blasted him through the concrete face of a building in spite. the thought made you chuckle. he deserved it, that bastard.

when you returned from earth-8901, you slept over most of the next few days.

only closer to the end of the week had you dragged yourself from the depths of your bed to class. assignments glared at you from under the hood of your shut laptop and the professor's voice drifted over your head where it was hunched down over the scribbled outline of a scheme to cut power across the city.

you sketch a tiny little you in the corner, if you were a better illustrator someone may have been able to make out the tiny figure laughing maniacally at the panic she's induced.

scheming is fun. it lets you forget for the red and blue shadow that haunts your mind, if only for a few minutes at a time.

there's a coffee shop on the route back to your apartment and inter-dimensional travel has you jet-lagged enough to push it's doors open. a chime fills the space.

you stop most days just for a coffee, if you've made a recent hit at a bank on the other side of town you'll spoil yourself to a sandwich or a smoothie. but as it turns out, the money on earth-8901 is all purple bills. useless memorabilia hogging space on your study desk.

behind the counter is a fresh face. a handsome face.

he smiles at you and it's dazzling enough to prompt you into returning it. there's a name-tag against his black work shirt, Tobey, and he has dreads pulled up into a bunch at the top of his head.

you lean over the counter more than you would normally and his eyes follow your figure where it's divided by the countertop.

"hm. first week?" you prompt.

"indeed."

"how's it going?"

his eyes wash down your body again before returning to your gaze. "well. very well."

when you leave the shop there's a number written on the side of your cup with smudged black marker and a "give me a call -Tobey :)"

the ink stains the pads of your fingers. you consider the number the whole walk home.

by the time you reach your door, you've decided that you'll be calling him. that it's a good idea to start engaging with men in your dimension, as opposed to six foot nine assholes with sturdy shoulders ... and swirling brown eyes ... and a soft temperament despite how desperately he tries to hide it--

you slam your door, leaving that thread of thought on your welcome mat.

-

New York has already dimmed to a fuzzy black, perforated by city lights of every colour when you perch yourself on the edge of your bed. the city hums and the tune drifts in through your open window.

your cup from earlier is empty where you hold it up and dial the number written against it.

it rings twice before a static voice carries over the line. "hello?"

"Tobey?"

"speaking."

you tuck your knee up against the bed. in the low light, your glow emanates into the space. "i just called to say that i think you accidentally wrote your number on the side of my cup."

he chuckles. it's hard to make out, but then again most calls are tough when you're holding the phone with the same touch that could cut power to the pentagon.

"not a mistake, sweet-cheeks."

your nose crinkles. you hope the nickname isn't gonna stick.

but you press on, "that so? well, pray tell. why am i phoning you?"

"you're phoning so we can talk about when i'm taking you out."

"usually that discussion is preceded by actually asking me if i want to go out with you."

"i'm sure that--"

there's a crunch beyond the window.

the unmistakable crumble of concrete, accompanying dust cascading to settle on your sill in a tiny pile.

you squint, your apartment is on the eleventh floor. there's no way anyone could--

the phone falls, clattering to land across the dial.

spider-man.

your palms warm, you feel the surge of power rising where it's settled most days just beneath your skin. fingertips prickling with electricity, desperate to come reaching out - the bedside lamp dims as you brighten. your light casts shadows across the room.

"uhm, hello?" the abandoned phone still hums.

you creep towards the ledge before leaping at it, knees connecting with the sill. your eyes chase around the view beyond the window.

the night is still. there's no sign of movement beyond the people down in the street.

just above your window, the source of the noise, there's a gash in the brick. four gashes, to be exact. like an animal had ripped into the stone, like ... like claws.

your heart sinks into your stomach. the night is still unmoving.

-

it's thursday afternoon and the sidewalk is busy. you think that if one more person knocks into your side you're gonna zap them across the street.

Tobey hasn't showed up yet.

"how's thursday? some lunch, twelve o' clock?"

it's already half-past. you think hard about zapping him too, the face he'll make when he's swallowing scalding hot mouthfuls of electricity.

as if drawn from your thoughts, Tobey's figure is bumping people down the walkway. he's jogging, panting between an apology as he nears.

"i-i'm so sorry," he's hunched over, hands on knees. "my car was totalled ... i had to call the cops and sort out a bunch of stuff--"

"you got into an accident?" your voice is more curious than concerned.

he shakes his head. "no, an animal. last night an animal or something attacked my car, it's completely wrecked."

you squint at him. "an animal? we live in Manhattan."

Tobey straightened out. "yeah, go figure. giant claw marks and everything, the car was on it's head when i found--"

"claw marks?" your interest peaked.

the sound at your window.

"yeah. the thing must have been huge, it flipped my car." he nods. "and the security cameras were malfunctioning over the time that it happened so i can't know for sure ..."

there's only one creature you know personally, the kind that lurks on New York rooftops, that can inflict that kind of damage.

you don't allow yourself to think any more on it. Miguel hasn't come to your dimension before, he's not starting now.

and here to do what? wreck Tobey from the coffee shop's car?

the thought settles the bubbling in your core.

"well. are we still getting lunch?"

-

nearly a week passes and the thought of Miguel haunts you no more than it usually does - which is generally in the space between each thought - but you've squashed the notion that he may be around.

"it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

he'd said that once.

you bury yourself under the safe cover of assignments and tests. early classes and afternoons at library desks.

of course, there's always time for hobbies. cultivating a healthy school-social balance is reliant on a well-rounded lifestyle.

there's two security passed out in the corner. you would duct-tape them but you struck them with enough power to light a carnival for a week. they'd be out for a while.

you'd think the university student finance office would be unoccupied at almost nine at night. but seven or eight people huddle in the corner of the room, stragglers that had remained to do work after hours.

they press against each other in fear. you delight in it.

"it's not your guys' fault," you speak to the room. the lights flicker overhead. "i get it, it's the big corporations! but, that still affects the lives of students who can barely afford to pay for registration anymore--"

the computer system fizzles and sparks beneath your hand. monitors go black across the office, the remains of student financial documents dissolved into digital dust.

you'd deny the notion that you were doing all this for the "greater good". your own student fees were climbing, and just while you were here, there were a couple friends who could do without it too.

blue and red lights bounce off the side of your profile. sirens echo down the street.

"right." you dust your hands and look around. you're chuffed when you curtsy at them, ends of your short dress pinched between your fingertips. "that should be me done then. you all have a good night."

the buildings doors slide open where you push them. you're almost blinded by the cop car headlights.

they’d formed a lineup behind open car doors, guns aimed up at you.

“Statica!” a gruff voice called from the depths of the lights. “get on the ground and put your hands behind your head! you’re surrounded!”

you roll your shoulders, pretending to consider their offer. eventually you shook your head, “i don’t think so, sheriff. i’ve got class tomorrow, can’t be out too late.”

a crack of lightning rains from the sky and a nearby police car explodes, lifting a few feet off the ground and bursting into flames.

“well, i’ll be off.”

your hand raises to call down another bolt, one that would send you back to the sidewalk outside your apartment, when the officer calls again.

“drop your weapon!”

“my weapon?” you chuckle lowly, “you mean my hand—“

you’re cut short by a bang and a flash at the end of a standard police pistol.

several things happen at once:

a force hits you with enough power to force all your breath clean out your lungs. your body is thrown back against the sidewalk and your midriff grows warm. your hand finds your stomach, it's sticky there.

on the wall behind where you once stood, there's a gaping hole where the bullet that was supposed to be yours has dug a wide welt into the grey plaster.

"you missed!" a voice call somewhere beyond the flashing lights.

another shoot rings out, but you're gone in a shower of sparks before the bullet has chance to even graze your cheek.

you're back on the street outside your apartment building. the streetlamp buzzes above you.

your lungs are burning, grappling desperately for oxygen. your eyes find your stomach again:

where there should be blood and a bullet sized hole, instead is a tangled mess of white web. it's solidifying slowly over your yellow get-up.

"it ... there's no ways." you whisper, the only person out in the late night street.

your spider-man isn't going around pushing you out the way of police fire. he's probably off kissing babies and saving cats from trees.

no. this was someone else, and there's only one person-- but why would he be here?

your eyes find the line of rooftops as if Miguel's figure would crescent over your street. it doesn't. somewhere beyond them, a cop car whoops.

webbing is drying over your hand.

"fucking asshole."

-

you're being watched, all through the next day. all the way to friday, you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

the heat of red eyes, they're never there when you look for them.

in the walks between classes, the breaks between sprawled over campus benches in the summer sun flittering out conversation riddled with classic complaints. i can't believe that fucking test, that twenty mark question at the end? is she crazy?

you've considered calling out. maybe he'd appear from the shadows, but you'd squashed the notion quickly. he didn't deserve your acknowledgement.

he's probably right chuffed with himself, saving you when you didn't need his interference. no. if he wants to lurk like a creep, let him!

but the thought weighed on you. your heart whined in the quiet dark of your room late at night. the empty space beside you, the prodding of a dream you'd long since killed: rising a grey soil-ridden hand out from the depths of it's grave.

it was never gonna work anyway. it was the thought that sent you into sleep.

friday night arrived like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.

you thrust your hips into your tiniest skirt and your chest through your prettiest top. your friends met you out on the sidewalk, already three drinks deep when you all spill into the muggy heat of the bar.

two vodka cranberries and three tequila shots under, the thought of Miguel dissipates. it's further incinerated by the warmth of the hand on your hip.

the man is tall - sure, not as tall as Miguel - and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. it didn't look soft, like how Miguel's did--

your grip tightened around the half-empty cup, thumb-sized welts melting through the plastic with the electric heat of your hand. shut up.

he brings you another drink. you chug it without another thought. he laughs and wipes at a red drop running down your chin with a cool hand. the bar swims around you in technicolour strobe lights and before you know it, the enthusiasm of the good times are whittling down to a thin thread.

"can i walk you home?"

you nod. he slips your hand in his and it's still too cool against your hot palm.

in the barely lit street, you wonder if he notices your glow. it wasn't so bright when you wanted it to be, but he was still too distracted by the tune of his own voice to notice.

"and we went down to the dock that day, there was a whole keg stand and we even--"

you think that maybe if you were as drunk as you were an hour ago that you'd have more energy to entertain him better. you nodded dumbly instead.

a quick in and out, you thought. you could tolerate him just for a few more hours if it meant he left your bed before the sun rises. he wasn't who you wanted, but he was here. and Miguel wasn't.

now that the alcohol in you was dwindling, not dead but dying, the melancholy of your situation was curling a cold hand up and making it hard to breath where it wrapped around your throat.

your building watched contemptuously down at you when you drew to a stop in front of it.

the man's, Cooper's, blue eyes draws circles over your face and his hand finds your waist again. he inches you closer.

"am i saying goodnight, or are you inviting me inside?"

you smile at him. it's faint and half-assed.

the rest of the night looms in your mind. could you really stand his Old Spice reeked conversation for another few hours? and would he really be able to get your mind off--

oh, oh. he's leaning in.

his thumb is pressing into the cavern of your cheeks, eyes pressing closed as rum-stifled breath nears your lips--

thwip. thwip.

there's a gust of air and a thump and Cooper is plastered to the side of your building in white webbing. his hands are pinned at his side, face white in shock.

your eyes widen. you teeter on shaky drunk legs, turning to face the rooftops where the darkness is blanketing over them and hiding where you know Miguel is lurking within.

alcohol infused rage claws up within you.

"O' Hara!" you scream out into the street. your hands heat, the streetlamp above flickering wildly under your influence. "you fucking asshole!"

your foot stamps against the concrete, hands racing up to your head and through your hair. "aaaghhh--!"

the bulb in the streetlight bursts. glass showers over your tantrum. it follows down the row of lights down the street, exploding in quick succession and sinking the sidewalk under an inky black cover.

you're now shining like a light on the mast of a fishing ship, casting a glow over the sea of tar. the spider is yet to emerge into your line.

"you are so full of shit! and if i see you again i will blast you through the whole city block, and this time you won't wake up--!"

"what the fuck--"

you turn with glowing eyes on the blonde bound to the wall, "shut up!"

thwip. his head bangs back against the brick where another web has sealed his mouth shut.

whipping back, your eyes find a shuffling figure over the next building. it's just a flicker of movement and then it's gone.

"ugh! you are so childish!"

you draw your hands over your face, running them down your cheeks and sigh. a couple deep breaths later and you can feel the heat of your power subsiding, it's dragging the anger down along with it.

"i'm going to bed." you mutter, patting down your skirt and fixing the edge of your shirt.

"mmpf--" Cooper moans against his restraints.

you'd just about forgotten about the man glued to your building. you cock your head at him.

"yeah ... well. good luck with that."

the buzzer echoes behind you when you shut the gate on his struggling.

-

it's hot when you wake up.

the covers are sticking to your legs and there's an itch in your throat for a tall glass of water. somewhere beyond the thrum of a headache against your forehead, you remember the bottle of water you set aside to cool in the fridge for this exact moment.

you groan when your feet hit the floor, the rush of blood to your head doing nothing to aid where your brain is pounding.

the apartment is warm with the soft glow of nearly morning. your alarm clock is flashing red - 05:02

orange light peeks over the counter when you pull your fridge open, the glare of starchy blue light pressing against your sensitive eyes. from the bottom drawer, you fish out the bottle and unscrew the cap.

you chug it down noisily, wet slurps echoing across the room. when you set it down you sigh, "god."

the image of your bed swims in your mind. the lure of the sheets calls to you again.

"princesa."

your back slams into the edge of the counter, "j-jesus--"

lurking in the corner by the door, wide shoulders out of place in the cramped apartment, stands Miguel O' Hara in his shiny red and blue suit.

your heart leaps into your throat, lodging there like a stone. you swallow around it. fuck, he looks so good.

"you," you stabilise the water bottle where it's spilt over the floor from your leap in fright. "what the hell are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you. you press further back against the counter.

"i came to talk to you."

you guffaw, mouth slackening in amused disbelief. "talk? now you wanna talk?"

rising irritation flushes blood down to your legs, anger urges your steps forward all the way until your standing beneath him.

"you have been a pain in my ass for two weeks now--" you shove a finger into his hard chest, rising enough electricity to zap him but not enough to hurt. well, not hurt too much. he flinches.

"i've been a pain-- you electrocuted me through the side of a building?"

his face twisted, brow-bone hardening where he was glaring down at you.

"you deserved it. and i hope it hurt."

"it didn't."

"you're a liar."

silence rung into the space. you held your glare, but could feel it slowly softening. Miguel's hair was creeping over the edge of his forehead and his eyes had turned back to their chestnut brown that glittered in the sunlight peeking through the window.

he looked so ... so tame in this light. cramped into your apartment like he could belong there, like he could maybe be yours if you asked.

you broke first, turning away. "get out, Miguel." it was a whisper but you know he heard it.

"i need to talk to you."

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze again. "you had two weeks to talk, but instead you've been interfering in my life--"

"interfering? i saved you."

you huffed, forcing yourself to face him again. "saved me? saved me from what, a lunch date? a one night stand?"

at that, he turned away. face reddening. "i wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't going out with such fucking losers--"

"oh, pardon me for trying to find a date in my own dimension, someone who actually gives a shit about me.”

“i give a shit about you.”

you stilled. your lip wobbled against your will. “that’s not fair, Miguel.”

he shrunk the space by taking another step. “i came to apologise—“

you shook your head again. eyes finding the floor. against your sides, your palms were warming again: your next steps playing out in your mind.

another scalding hand to the chest, his body seizing underneath your palm and dragging his unconscious body out onto the street. probably come back and cry yourself back to sleep.

your hand rises.

“oh no,” thwip. thwip. “not this time, mi amor.”

just as he’d done to Cooper, your hands were plastered back against your apartment wall: splayed out against the cream paint job.

“this webbing thing is getting real fucking boring O’Hara—“

he was against you in an instant. warm, solid chest pressed against your pajama shirt. his hands came to cup your cheeks.

“i came to apologise.” you pressed your head back against the cold wall, eyes trained on the corner of the floor in your kitchen. it needed a vacuum. “i know i should have come when you asked. i know that.”

if you look at him, for even a second, you’d crumble and you knew it. your eyes were clouding, waterline wet.

a calloused finger ran slow and gentle down your jaw. “please look at me, princesa.”

you shook your head. a stray tear chased down, catching under the press of his finger.

“why don’t you go bother one of your other inter-dimensional girlfriends, Miguel.”

he growled at that, low and deep, and you’d be a liar if you said your knees didn’t buckle under the sound.

Miguel pressed forward: cheek to yours, hand digging welts into your hip.

“there’s no-one else. there’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

you huffed at that, it curled at the edge with a humourless chuckle. “what, with this jawline and these muscles? i hope you don’t think i’m a fucking idiot.”

he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, pressing his body harder to yours, but you didn’t relent. your eyes fluttered against his heat, but stayed trained away from his shadowy figure.

“why are you so fucking difficult.” his breath was warm there. “you said prove it, Miggy, and i’m here proving it.”

“you’ve always known i was difficult.” you whisper, it’s more of an after-thought really.

he sighs, shoulders loosening just enough that you can make it out in the corner of your eye.

the flat column of his nose presses into your cheek. he nudges it there softly and it warms a pit deep inside you.

“sí, mi amor. lo sé.” hot lips press into your cheek and a whine escapes you before you can catch it. his thumb has reached up and is pressing into the space behind your ear.

his lips are traveling, just barely grazing your skin with pecks down your jaw. then to the column of your throat, to the bend between your shoulder and your neck.

“i know that … and you know that. and yet you still have no concept of how much trouble you make for me.” his voice swooping into the crevice of your collarbone. his teeth graze over that same spot. “how i can’t even work without thinking about you, watching every monitor hoping you’ll be in another dimension causing chaos so i can come find you and you can bat those pretty fucking eyelashes at me. can’t sleep. think about you lying beside me. about all the pretty noises i can draw from your pretty throat.”

his knee sinks to the ground, hitting the floor with a soft thump. the other follows shortly after.

that draws your gaze off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. they find the supple curls on the top of his head.

even on both knees, the crown of his head brushes under your nose.

the sight was widening the lump in your throat. it burnt to swallow.

“and yet you still never came.”

he shakes his head at that. gentle hands reach for the end of your pajama shirt, tugging it up slowly. Miguel leans forward and presses another kiss against the soft fat over your exposed hip.

you twitch against him, gasping at the heat of his lips over your cool skin. at your hands, your fingertips crackle with summoned energy. you can feel where the webbing is slowly melting under it’s press.

“‘s not true.” he says against you. “i’m here all the time.”

your shirt is being lifted higher as his head chases up your naked stomach, nipping at the skin where it freckles with goosebumps.

“i come to watch you—“

“that’s not creepy at all—“ you mutter, only teasing, and you’re punished with a particularly hard bite at your ribs.

“come because i miss your face and your laugh and …” he sighs, nudging his cheek against you. “god you make me fucking sick.”

there’s a squelch where the webbing has melted just enough for you to pry your hands from the wall, immediately grasping for the depths of Miguel’s hair.

“ever the romantic.” you huff. but you tug on his roots so he’s facing up to you, neck stretched deliciously with veins and hard muscle.

he’s blinking, lips parted as he waits for you.

“are you being serious, Miguel?” you ask quietly.

his eyes twinkle. “i am.”

you purse your lips, a smile creeping up into the corners of your mouth. your nails scrape over the crown of his head, trailing down to rest at the base of his neck. his eyes flutter shut against your hand.

“this might be the best apology i’ve ever received.”

he hums. “that’s good.”

“is it over, or should i let you finish? cause i’m kind of itching to kiss you right now.”

a smile of his own creeps over his face. it’s a sight you’ve maybe caught a glimpse of once in your life.

“i’m done.”

he leans up, persuaded by your touch reaching to cup his jaw. he’s almost at your mouth when he whispers again.

“you’re not gonna electrocute me for trying to kiss you again, are you?”

you laugh at that, his grip on your waist tightens at the sound. “you ever gonna let that go, old man?”

“old man?”

he surges forward, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss.

you giggle against him and your hands are everywhere: through his hair and down his shoulders and over his jaw. his tongue slips in against yours and it's saccharine like you'd always dreamed it to be. Miguel's hands race up your calves, behind your knees and hook beneath your thighs. he lifts you with him when he stands.

your legs wrap around him and he's persistent, pushing you against the wall in the heat of his kiss.

you detach your lips from his, chasing them down his cheek and into the crevice between his jaw and his neck. he groans, fingertips driving deeper into the plush of where he was holding you up by your thighs.

"i should get you jealous more often."

he guffaws, face above yours. "me? jealous of those idiots? as if."

leaning back to meet his face again, you cock an eyebrow. "you wrecked that guy's car. and taped the other one against a building."

his eyes rolled, an all-too-pretty blush darkening his face. he dropped it against your shoulder, "you know about the car?"

you laugh. "what else is big enough to flip a car in Manhattan. and the claw marks? you're so transparent it's almost hot."

Miguel chuckles and it's ticklish against your skin. he drops another kiss there. "i don't like sharing."

"sharing?"

he's back to nipping spots up your neck. "don't wanna share my girl."

the smile on your face was impossible to squash. "oh, i'm your girl now?"

he nods. "will you be?"

your fingers creep back into his hair, bringing him back into the light of your eyes. "you're not trying to make a hero out of me, are you? convert me to your little spider-squad?"

his lips purse, pretending to consider it, before eventually shaking his head. "no."

“wouldn’t a villain and a spider-man together collapse the multiverse or something?”

“then let it collapse.”

your thumb tugs on his fat bottom lip before letting it snap back in place. "god you're a sweet talker, Miggy."

you press forward to kiss him again. he sighs.

-

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#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #fic rec #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fanfiction

[radiophd]

useless idea -- glitch in the colours

#2020s #electronic #techno #useless idea

[lollybliz]

bout to make a Monster of a fic rec post here we go

heyo @jinx108! We’ll start with the complete ones because sometimes you’re just not in the mood to wait for the last chapter, you know? I don't remember details of all of these so i’m just going to copy the author’s summary rather than write my own. I am literally just going through my bookmarks, I got 400 of these to sort through. if ive talked to or am familiar with the author im gonna mention them, but if I mention you and you don't want me to have Please tell me and i’ll remove it.

If you’re not into spoilers Please Tread Carefully, I don't watch out for that stuff so I wont know to label it

1>Crushing Truth by Bunzuku: Tododeku. “Romance is hard enough for a teenager to understand when they have a good relationship role model. For Shoto, it takes two excited meddlers for him to even realize what his feelings really are.“

2>Disowned by b00mgh: tododeku + others. Unrated, some traumatic elements. “Shouto freaks out under a bridge and I use the word "grass" a lot more than I really should. Izuku does his stupid martyr thing and everyone makes continuous references to his propensity to break his bones. Aizawa goes "oh FUCK my kids are dying again" and his students use him as emotional (and physical) support. A friend requests angst, I say what kind, she say idk make someone get disowned and i say oh this I can absolutely provide my good buddy.”

3>cotton candy hands by @chonideno: Kiribaku. I will take Any excuse to rec this fic, its the most fluffy pile of feels Good Lord. also the first fic I ever bound into a physical book. “Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no. A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro“

4>Catching Sight of the Storm by neo7v: Kiribaku, tododeku. A considerable amount of Whump and related angst, and kinda sad tbh. “Blind. Quirkless. Useless.The first two things were stated clearly by the doctor that sat about five feet in front of Izuku. The third was a word that Kacchan called him everytime he failed to make the jump on whatever forest excursion they were on or when he ran into a tree because he hadn’t seen it. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.” Was his mom giving up on him already? But he could still be a hero if he tried hard enough, right? Quirkless or not. Blind or not. Just because Izuku was useless now didn’t mean he would stay that way forever, right? *** A Blind!Izuku AU”

5>Yell Heah by fakecharliebrown: Chatfic. M a n y pairings. technically complete, but part of an ongoing series. “Iida creates a group-chat for Class 1-A. It doesn't go as planned.“

6>Sunshine by Rosey_Note: BIG SAD. tw- failed suicide attempt. KiriKamiBaku. “They didn't deserve to put up with his crappy mood. Because Denki Kaminari did not feel like Sunshine right now. And they deserved sunshine. In fact, Denki didn't feel much of anything right now.“

7>Electric Connection by  Onlymostydead: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk has always had... Weird side affects. Like his ADHD. And his constant energy. And his insomnia, which wouldn't leave him be right now, when he really needed to just get some sleep. But, thankfully, he has good friends.“

8>The Best (The Worst) by Onlymostydead: no romantic pairing. tw- rampant transphobia, both outside and internalized. “Bakugou Katsuki has known who he was since he was four years old. He was a boy, it was as simple as that. Around his friends, at school... But things couldn't just be that simple, could they?“

9>Lichtenberg Figures by Q_loves_you: no definite romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki has a very powerful force of nature running through his body. Kaminari Denki doesn't want to hurt anybody. He doesn't always get what he wants, and "anybody" does generally include himself.“

10>Eventuality by KikaTouka: ill be honest I don't remember this one at all, I maaaay not have read it yet :/. anyway. ShinKami. “Shinsou learns more than just hero lessons after being transferred to 1-A.“

11>Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup: ShinKami. “Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has. “I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe. Denki laughs. “Oh no.” His mother says, watching him. “Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.“

12>caught in my own web by @anxioussailorsoldier: ShinKami. “Shinsou needs some help after getting caught up in his capture weapon. Kaminari enters from stage left.“

13>not so summer love by nataliya: ShinKami. “Class 2-B’s common room, although typically quiet, was currently filled with five students—three slowly giving up on homework, one bitching about noise and another that rushes through the front door. “We’ve been waiting for you—” Mina starts, but Kaminari’s vaulting over the back of the couch, eyes wide as he practically buzzes out of his skin, emitting light like crazy as currents dazzle across strands of hair. “I have a big ugly crush,” He steps off the couch and onto the coffee table, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, “On big ugly Shinsou.””

14>Blamed by coldandhotsoba: ShinKami. Tw- they fuckin kill a guy and its a lil nasty. “This was not how the day was supposed to end. They were supposed to end the day like they do most nights.  Kaminari clutching onto him like a koala as he slept, wrapped in the millions of tacky blankets Kaminari had bought. Warm and safe in their bed. It was not supposed to end with both of them tied up in some cold metal room.“

15>Lightning Scars by Present-Mics-Scream (write_your_way_out): Shinkami. “It's hard to be confident in your abilities when you're surrounded by people with incredible quirks. Shinsou Hitoshi would know better than anyone. Sure, he was admitted to the hero course in his second year, but being admitted to the hero course, and keeping up with the rest of the class are two different things. Lucky for him, Kaminari is there to prove that the flashiest quirks come with the largest drawbacks.“

16>See No Evil, Hear No Evil by randomfan188: no romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki is legally blind. When he forgets to wear his contacts and breaks down during math class, comfort appears in the strangest of ways.“

17>how not to enjoy the weather, an article by kaminari denki by dreamtowns: no defined romantic pairing. “If there was one thing Kaminari hated the most in a world wth villains, it would have to be thunderstorms.“

18>”Studying” by emmyrox22: ShinKami, EraserMic. “Shinsou and Kaminari have been “studying” together for a while (but not for school). Shinsou gets stopped by his dads on the way to another “study” session and mistakes are made“

19>Weaknesses by sunflowerstorm: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk and storms compliment each other in the worst way, but he's convinced he can deal with it on his own... until he really can't any longer. When Shinsou accidentally overhears Aizawa confronting Kaminari about recent changes in behaviour and hears about the hell his quirks been putting him through, he can't just pretend he never heard. He wants to help.“

20>it’s hurt denki hours by memeingfultrash: ShinKami + others. ““Certain members of our class are...under the impression that...you’re the traitor.” Denki’s body went cold and felt like he was going to short circuit. ~some of class 1a believes that denki is the traitor and avoid him”

21>Petition to replace Mineta with Shinsou- (signed by Kaminari Denki) by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami + others. This is one of my favorites, I go back to reread it from time to time. It SAYS 41/42, but that's just a glitch cus chapter 36 doesn't exist for some reason, I talked to the author about it and its fine. “Mineta brings shame to the color purple. You know who does not bring shame to the rich color, but pride and sexual tension to one infatuated Kaminari Denki instead? Shinsou Hitoshi, aka sexy zombie man, aka the most perfect hunk of a man to walk planet earth, aka future husband. Shinsou has finally gotten his chance to prove himself to the hero course, and he did more than prove himself. The only question left unanswered is whether he will start in A or B, and how Kaminari can manipulate the end result.“

22>How to Get a Boyfriend (in Four Easy Steps!) by e1ana: ShinKami, EraserMic, + others. “Step 1: Get kicked out of the house by your homophobic parents. Step 2: Run headfirst into your brooding, mysterious crush. Step 3: Sleep in his dad’s (see: your homeroom teacher) house Step 4: Watch everything you thought you knew go to shit. This isn’t exactly the sweet, romantic plan that Kaminari Denki longed for. Will everything be ok, or will step 5 be to crash and burn?“

23>Bakugou and Todoroki’s Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701: Kiribaku, TodoDeku, + others. This is another one of my favorites, and the one I am currently folding and sewing into a physical book. you learn how to do funny things when bored and quarantined ig. “It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students. To say that things had snowballed was an understatement. Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.”

24>Colour Theory by chancellorxofxtrash: TodoBakuDeku. this one’s a series. “Midoriya/Bakugo/Todoroki slow burn soulmate AU. All three of them are nerds with their own emotional issues, trying to navigate their way through becoming heroes, and their own relationship with each other.“

25>Summer Sunshine by Mara97: TodoDeku. Ever want a Barbie in a mermaid tale/Bnha crossover? No? well here you go anyway! “Instead of worrying about college, Izuku spends his summer vacation finding out his father is, supposedly, a dead merman king and going on a quest to dethrone the current king, Endeavor. Along the way, Izuku becomes close to the three journeying with him, makes friends with strangers, starts crushing on an unattainable prince, and, in the end, learns to love himself. Oh, and he saves a kingdom, too.“

26>The snowflakes on our skin and the flames in our soul are one (and the same), my love by missunderstuffyou: TodoDeku, Kiribaku. this is one of the ones I keep a running reread comment going on. its at,,, 6, atm.  “Before your quirk begins to present itself, the soulmate link comes through, and suddenly whatever you write upon your own skin appears on the body of your soulmate. As your soulmate writes to you, the emotions they feel follow through the ink.Izuku Midoriya is four years and a few months old when he first feels the slight ebbing in his arms. It doesn’t hurt… he can just feel something, and it’s enough to make him sprint into his mother’s arms screaming that his quirk is coming. She had been washing in the kitchen, and the sudden screech as her son rockets into her side is enough to make her jump with panic, immediately grabbing at him and looking for cuts and bumps before she understands his words and the stupidly bright, alight smile on his face with large, watery, hopeful eyes. Shoto Todoroki doesn’t feel his soulmate connection open up. It is drowned in the aches of a small body worked far too hard.“

27>It was dark inside the closet by Chad_Champion69420: Pre-ShinDeku? maybe? its tagged shindeku but like. it’ll make sense if you read it. “Midoriya is invited to a party. He and Shinsou decide to play a little trick on the rest of the party during Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

28>how to woo your local trash gremlin: a comprehensive guide by Todoroki shouto by wonhaebunny: TodoBaku. this is the fic that dragged me into todobaku, fun fact. “five times shouto tries to confess to bakugou, and one time he doesn't bother tryingaka: wikihow is a scam and bakugou is a terrible, terrible boy“

29>top ten photos taken right before disaster by Shookspeare: ShinDeku. “Izuku participates in a harmless prank, only to end up ruining it and running for dear life.“

30>Secrets to Share by pechebaie: no definite romantic pairing. “Kirishima comes out first, and nothing changes. Kirishima and Kaminari still hang out to complain about class and talk about boys - and sometimes girls, too, in Kaminari’s case; he still plans stupid pranks with Sero that get them sent to the principal’s or nurse’s office every time; Ashido still kicks his ass at Mario Kart without hesitation; and Bakugou doesn’t get angry at him any more than he usually does.“

31>What One Hides by Pinalinet: TodoDeku. “All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.“

32>whether or not we’re fated, we’re meant to be by juurensha: KINDA SPOILERY. TodoDeku + others. “Todoroki didn’t have a soulmark for most of his life.His siblings all did, but up until the day of the U.A. entrance exam, he had shoved the idea aside. It’s not like they could help him anyway. And then a 9 appears on his chest, and a green-haired boy barrels into his life with a fire and ice soulmark on his arms, and suddenly Todoroki cares very much about all this could mean.”

33>The Midnight Shift by meiishu @meiishu @totallytodoroki (idk which you’d rather I attach so I went with both): ShinKami. ““Hey Toshi,” Denki says, and he laughs, clearly embarrassed. He’s got on a jean jacket that did him absolutely no help and a white tee shirt that is currently stuck to his torso. It’s got a pikachu design in the center. “By any chance, do you sell umbrellas?” “You really went out in this weather.” Hitoshi deadpans, instead of dignifying that with an answer. or hitoshi works the midnight shift at the gas station, which also doubles as a pokestop for pokemon go. of course, denki is a regular.”

34>Rock the House by AkabaneKayo: ShinKami. “It wasn’t just his bed. It was his entire fucking room shaking. Only one thought crossed his mind at that moment: “Holy shit. My room is haunted.”“

35>Technically, they’re morning kisses by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami. “Most nights, Shinsou cannot fall sleep. Neither can Kaminari. It seems counterproductive to have a sleepover then, but they try to make it work. And they fail, but that is okay.“

36>someone to call mine by nearly_theyre: ShinKami, EraserMic “From: Me wish you were here, denks From: kitten 💛💘💛 what if i was tho? OR Four times Denki snuck into Hitoshi's room and one time he walked through the front door.“

37>Pretty by Onlymostydead (noticing some repeat authors? me too): no definite romantic pairing. “(Or, Kaminari still can't figure out bra clasps.) Kaminari has never really felt good about himself. Herself? Whichever way, not knowing doesn't make anything easier. Especially when he (she?) and Mina have their bodies swapped during training, and everything seems too right.“

38>If I offer you my hand, will you take it? by bleukitsune: Kiribaku. SPOILERY. ““Why?” Kirishima leaned back on his hands, trying to create some space between them. Too close. The ash-blond looked really nervous, his usually arrogant and cunning demeanor gone. “What do you see when you look at me? Kirishima is worried. Bakugou is hurting. After his confrontation with Midoriya, he finally reaches out to him. “

Theres way more but I haven't tagged them properly yet so that m a y come later if I can ever finish going through and adding my sorting tags.

and then a last few that Are Not Complete but im really very fond of them. not as many as id like to add, but my hands are getting tired tbh.

39>State of Mind by GuardianOfTheLoaf: no relationship YET but its looking like it’ll be either tododeku or shindeku, probably the former. EraserMic. tw- childhood neglect and severe depression. Izuku’s not a happy kid. “Izuku was a late bloomer, his quirk lying dormant until his tenth birthday when in a fit of emotion he grabs his mother and she disappears. With All Might slowly restoring his confidence Izuku begins the difficult journey into becoming a hero.“ 18/? chapters.

40>Izuku Eats His Problems by CosmicAce: ShinDeku. Izuku’s a flerkin, what more could you want? “His whole life, Izuku Midoriya was taught to keep his powers, his Quirk, hidden from the world. His kind were feared, hunted to near extinction because of it. He just wants to show people he’s different. That he can be a HERO. And nothing is going to stop him. Even if his Quirk IS like an eldritch abomination.“ 43/? chapters

and then probably my current favorite bnha fic- although it fights with Apertum Mortem for that spot but that ones d a r k and not here-

41>family of the year by periiwren: EraserMic. “Hitoshi is done. Done with moving around every few months to a couple that will scrutinize him and eventually dump him right back where he started. Good thing he’s well past his strike limit now- at least he can stay in one place, be content to age out of the system and finish out his training with Aizawa. Maybe transfer into the hero course, maybe be a hero- but none of that was guaranteed. The only thing for sure was that he was going to stay in that center for the rest of his childhood. Or so he thought- because Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi have other plans.“ 24/? chapters. we’ve been informed that this one’s gonne be l o n g and im Very Grateful.

42>Here There Be Dragons by here_and_there: pre-ShinDeku. “Izuku looked at the small circle Aizawa had motioned to in front of them. "I won't fit," he whispered, thinking. He raised his hand, tentatively. Sighing, Aizawa grumbled, "What?" "I-I have a question. Actually, two." His teacher just stared at him, unimpressed. Izuku continued. "Can we activate our quirks before we step into the ring?" Aizawa looked up into the sky, muttering something Izuku didn't hear. "If you must." "O-Okay. Uh, second question. You said we have to stay inside the circle, right?" "Yes." The man looked disappointed, not only in Izuku but in himself for letting the kid speak. "Great. Uh... does that include tails?"“ 6/? chapters.

43>Another Option by sandersonsister: TodoBakuDeku, Touya/Hawks, Dabi/Hawks. Potentially Spoilery, depends on whether horikoshi has the guts to confirm Touya. this one is waiting around the corner with a baseball bat, its really cute, and then r e a l l y painful. it might be getting better though. maybe. it might be getting worse. “When Touya stops his mother from hurting Shouto, he decides enough is enough. He needs to get out of this house and he's taking his baby brother with him.“ 33/? chapters.

That's it i’m done for now, oof. maybe ill edit more onto this post later, maybe i’ll just make another one. hope some of these work!

#fic rec #bnha #mha #tododeku #todobakudeku #kiribaku #shinkami #shindeku #erasermic #To Be Continued

[oodlyenough]

aight... here’s a pretty long yet tip-of-the-iceberg collection on my overall thoughts on bl3 now that i’ve finished the damn thing, every main mission & every sidequest (dynasty dash don’t interact). 

obviously mega spoilers

the good

aside from that one infuriating difficulty spike when i arrived on promethea, i had a lot of fun playing. i found the gameplay a lot smoother than the others in the series (as it should be), i liked being able to climb stuff, i liked having an easy mode tbh!!

i really liked playing amara and i like the flexibility of action skills and being able to swap on the go without having to respec. the brawl tree ended up being very well suited to my type of play, it hindered me only during boss fights and even then at least i could switch to phasecast y’know

i had a lot of big fears about what this game would do and it managed to not do anything that makes me want to, like, burn and salt the earth, so that’s a win

i thought it was pretty funny! or at least on par with the other main games, which always kind of ride the line between funny and obnoxious and sometimes misstep

i enjoyed a lot of the cast, both new characters and characters who were returning but who i had no particular feelings about before, hammerlock, zer0 and ellie as particular examples

hammerlock and wainwright were cute af and it’s nice to see a gay couple in a triple-a game 

thought the twins were fun and funny af i liked them. because fandom is Like That i was a little exhausted by troy before he even showed up but even then, like, idk i liked them as a duo and i liked the break from jack honestly 

a lot of the new gun quirks were fun. i’m not like a big... gun person... but i found some cool ones i enjoyed playing with. 

loved getting to see different planets, it was a nice break from pandora all the time. and skywell was super fun! love the low-grav playfulness from TPS without the infuriating oz kit nonsense

the little quality of life improvements from previous games were great, like fast travel from anywhere, auto-refilling ammo, etc

some of the side quests were really fun. i liked the ratch quest for rhys, the birthday party quest for mordecai, the claptrap dancing quest was sweet, the buff movie buff quest was fun, the quest where i killed grandpappy 2 seconds in and got a reward was funny as hell esp because i drove off a cliff by accident, etc

lots of people had really bad glitches and stuff but... honestly can’t relate the game ran very well for me. advantages to not marathoning it before they’ve released their first couple patches, i guess, lol 

the less good

i played a solo amara and there are some bosses that seem like they would’ve been pure hell to do alone... i was lucky and able to phone a friend for a lifeline in those scenarios (shoutout to @heavybreathingcatt and @valoscope) but if i couldn’t do that idk i would’ve just broken my controller in rage i guess lmao 

why is resurrecting each other so hard? i don’t think i’ve ever done it successfully, because it takes too long and more importantly bc while i’m doing it some enemy will just toss a grenade or punch me and i get knocked away from the ally, rendering it useless

rest in peace maya, the best res AI in the whole damn game, got me through the rampager fight her damn self

there were a lot of characters and themes and ideas that i liked in theory more than in practice... because in practice they felt like a first draft. very often i felt like i liked a thing, and then on reflection thought about nine hundred ways it could’ve been better, deeper, more emotionally resonant, more developed, whatever. 

the angel stuff was kinda nice but... also... my longest deepest sigh ever @ Poor Sad Jack Some People Terrorize Entire Planets And Abuse Their Daughters To Cope With Their Fridged Wife

like the siren lore... wish i coulda heard it without having to backtrack across every map post-game

while i found the game generally pretty funny,  almost all the emotional scenes fell completely flat for me and there were a number of scenes that SHOULD have been emotional that just were not 

for eg i am actually not upset about maya or lilith dying (or turning into the moon as it were) -- i am ok with those beats for those characters, especially lilith getting a heroic sendoff. however... both of those scenes could’ve been more impactful than they were. maya’s i think was better than lilith’s, but both of them felt flatter, either in the moment or in the aftermath, than those characters deserved. 

related: NPCs reacting to major events is fun. i liked to do the tour and check in with all my buds to get their couple custom lines after a big plot thing happened. HOWEVER... those lines are obviously timed which is *mostly* fine but in some cases really, really weird? the lines about maya should stay in rotation for a lot longer. ava shouldn’t go back to LOL LET’S STEAL two seconds after maya’s gone. i missed zer0′s maya lines entirely bc i didn’t track down zer0 on time lol. stuff like that 

the bad

i miss my girls :( we really did keep only the white men huh

the last act felt severely underbaked. i have to wonder how many rewrites this game went through, and how much the back end was slapped together last minute, or cobbled together from various drafts. a lot of this felt very first or second draft, where the characters and themes are *there* but not refined at all, or they contradict each other. the family theme that goes basically nowhere and says nothing. the way the story handles atlas vs the way the story handles jakobs vs the way the story handles corporations writ large. 

for the twins -- lack of proper emotional resonance or development for them is one of the biggest failures imo, because i think they WERE very enjoyable villains and the core concept of like... evil video game streamers is honestly on-brand and funny af for the franchise... but as soon as troy died everything went downhill? tyreen’s non-reaction to her brother dying isn’t even a reaction, it’s not even “tyreen doesn’t care she’s evil lol” which would’ve been a boring direction to take anyway) it’s just.... “we barely wrote a response don’t worry about it”. her endgame is to be a big monster because... she’s ... fame hungry? huh? her motivation fell apart.w whether they went with “troy and tyreen are shitty people who get caught up in a power struggle but ultimately love each other” OR “troy and tyreen are shitty people who turn against each other in individual bids for power” could both have been interesting stories but they did neither. 

i’m def missing some echos on the twins which brings me to another thing i hate although it’s endemic to the series and not to bl3 specifically -- hiding important lore and characterization in random echos in random places on the map without even an indication of how many there are total, how many you’ve collected, where to find them... frustrating as hell. a lot of those echos are some of my favourite material in the game! at LEAST tell me “1 of 5 echos on this map” if you don’t wanna tell me where they are! why is major lore like the twins’ backstories hidden?????? 

and bc i haven’t heard them i don’t know if it’s fandom doing what fandom always does, or if it really is the game implying tyreen is The Evil Mastermind and troy is poor manipulated brother, but either way fuck that entire noise lmao of course the women of colour in the series are just Born Evil but jack and troy and whoever else are just Sad :( fuck off actually 

typhon... sucks... what an irritating character. irritating to retcon him in as The First Vault Hunter, irritating to have him talk about shit and sex all the time, irritating to have every established NPC be like oh wow my HERO typhon deleon what a HERO i LOVE him, irritating that we skate over his parenting failures, irritating that he has a fridged beloved wife, ESPECIALLY irritating he gets a memorial sidequest and maya didn’t . just. bad.

aurelia is evil now cause reasons... bad... 

vaughn also bad lmao i can’t believe they made amara yell “blood feud”... disgusting... 

the playable had no role in the story. they’re just a fly on the wall in every cut scene. this is whack in general, and a crit i can apply to all of the main borderlands games, however it is extremely jarring to play amara in a siren-heavy game and have no one acknowledge it. 

OVERALL... I guess like a B-? Maybe a B. I had fun playing it and I’m still having fun running around in Mayhem Mode and I am def looking forward to the DLCs. Gameplay is great. But while I had hoped this installment would take the storytelling of the main games a step further, it actually felt like a step back in virtually every respect. 

#bl3 spoilers #borderlands 3 #borderlands

[cheerioss]

your useless trash is the link to my past--sneak peek??

u know the feeling of having an idea at the totally wrong time?? yea this is me rn. decided to write a little part here and see where it goes. it's like the tv series but not really cuz i forgot details oops hope you enjoy it :)) (had to rewrite and repost cuz tumblr "hit a glitch" ugh)

---

🐞📍

location: Poitier, France

time: 9.08p.m.

Paris. The city of love they say. Home to the monumental beauty that is the Eiffel Tower. The city is now in a deep slumber, save for the rare cars and people heading out for night shifts. But in another city, Poitier to be exact, a lone car is on the roads, driving to nowhere in particular. Nothing stirs the stillness until...

Movement. Up in the rooftops. Is that a flash of red up there? Oh, there it is again! And again! The shadow moves silently, so swiftly and fleeting that you'd think it was just flickers of the moonlight's trick. They leap over rooftops with ease, effortlessly even. The car follows the speck of red, slowly picking up the pace. But alas, it's vanished, gone from sight.

The red figure paused on a rooftop, relieved to have escaped the car's wandering eyes. A sudden breeze picked up, as if sensing their presence. Long, black wavy hair floated with the wind, as well as the ends of a red coat, revealling the red shadow to be a lady. What a dramatic introduction.

From underneath a red fedora emerged a pair of bluebell orbs, dusted with spots of silver, like a tranquil pond in a magical cave. Sharp defined jaw, an adorable button nose splattered with freckles and a well-knit body, showing off the figure of a person who was very active. Covered neck to toe in a jet black jumpsuit with matching gloves hiding tiny hands. Ankle boots in the same colour adorned her feet, a legend that this woman could run and jump in them. Crimson red lips curled up into a smile as the lady took in the breathtakingly beautiful sights around her.

"Ah, on top of the world. I can see Le Cathédral Saint-Pierre from here."

"Friendly advice, keep the sightseeing on hold till after the job."

---

welp there's a lil part of the story. idk when i'll add in the rest since i cant really remember much details and lines rn. ://

#carmen sandeigo au #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen #carmen sandeigo #mlb #mlb fanfic #ml #ml ficlet #miracolous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous au #carmen!marinette #player!adrien #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

[proteusspade]

On the debacle with Fallout 76

 I feel like the debacle with Fallout 76 has become a testing grounds for a lot of the dominating theories and myths about video games and video game consumers in general, as well as more specifically about Bethesda studios and Bethesda gamers. I apologize for the LONG post ahead, but there’s a lot to unpack here and I want to make sure everyone’s on the same page before I try and make any big points. For those not in the know, I will attempt to summarize: - Bethesda released Fallout 76, a multiplayer installment in the Fallout franchise, with a set release date of November 14, 2018.  - The game was announced with the marketing that it would be playable and enjoyable as singleplayer, that every person you ran into would be a real person, that it was a new Fallout experience, that its graphics would improve upon Fallout 4′s graphics by 16 times, and notably, one collector’s edition which cost $200 was marketed as coming with a wearable helmet and a canvas bag.

The beta was shaky and riddled with bugs, and upon release, the game itself was still pretty much broken -- far moreso than other Bethesda titles, and this coming from a company where the running joke since Oblivion has been that the bugs are so prevalent that they are a feature, not a flaw. An enormous patch was released shortly after launch, which was larger in size than the game itself, and which not only didn’t fix almost any of the bugs, but created hundreds *more* bugs, as if they didn’t playtest the patch at all.  For players like me who can go a surprisingly long time in a Bethesda game without seeing any bugs at all, I will note that these bugs include: - T-posing enemies which either spontaneously assume their correct animations only when you get close, or never do, or which teleport suddenly into you to try and display their attack animations - Horrendous enemy A.I. where a lot of them will just stand in one place looping an animation - Enemies spawning out of thin air directly in front of you due to slow loading - A bug where enemies spontaneously heal the exact amount of damage you deal to them, making them invincible - Falling through the ground out of nowhere - Clipping through and getting caught in the world - Frequent server crashes, often due to in-game happenings (the game eventually gives you access to nuclear bombs, but the same bombs can crash the server if you drop them) - Frequent disconnects - Frequent game crashes (with no ‘save game’ function) - Body horror bugs like the Wendigo Bug which have been present since Fallout 4 and haven’t been fixed by Bethesda yet, even though modders were able to fix them weeks after Fallout 4 came out. Three years ago.  Moreover, the game directly ported over most of its visual assets from Fallout 4. Most of the landscape elements come from Fallout 4, almost all of the weapons come from Fallout 4, almost all of the outfits and armors come from Fallout 4, most of the monsters come from Fallout 4, the physics and gunplay is directly ported over (minus the ability to pause the game to open your inventory, of course, and minus the time-slowing aspect of V.A.T.S, which makes V.A.T.S almost completely useless), the character creation is ported over, the loot is ported over, the base-building system and all of its assets (walls, floors, anything you’d use to build a base) are ported over. Basically, other than trees and certain monsters unique to West Virginia, you’ll have a hard time spotting content which isn’t directly ported over from Fallout 4, often without palette swaps. Is the promise of better graphics fulfilled?  Well, the lighting is significantly improved, and even very pretty and atmospheric -- though occasionally light will shine through solid far-away objects, like mountains. Modders had done this almost immediately with Fallout 4, too, though, so it’s not really a huge achievement. And the landscape is much more colourful than in any other Fallout game, which is admittedly a nice change of pace, even though it makes no goddamn sense why the trees would survive while everything else dies around them. But other than those two elements... yeah, it just looks like Fallout 4, but usually doesn’t render as well due to being on a multiplayer server and due to the graphical glitches. How about the promise that every person you run into is a real person? Well, that was true all right, but how anyone thought that was a good idea is beyond me. It’s one of those things that sounds really cool and innovative until you think about it for literally any length of time at all. Why would that be a good thing? Unless you have quite a lot of friends who you’ve somehow got onto the same server (which, by the way, I don’t think has much functionality in Fallout 76), you’re not going to be very interested in those people, and you have no reason to be. They’re just big lumps of immersion-breaking, as I seriously doubt many people are going onto the game to vocally roleplay their way through the game experience.  Moreover, this means no NPCs besides monsters and robots. No quests from anyone but robots and holotapes. Now, I like holotapes. I’m one of those unbearable players who listens to every holotape and reads every computer terminal. My favourite part of Fallout games is usually finding out the big stories behind Vaults or unusual locations. But when you are doing this quest for someone you will never meet, and have complete certainty of this fact, the reason to do quests in the first place starts to ebb away. You just get holotapes or robots telling you to go to a place, kill something there, rinse, repeat. That’s the entire game. Nothing is achieved; everyone who recorded those holotapes is dead, or a monster now. You’re not doing anyone any favours. There’s no one to help, there’s no one to hate, there’s just you (and whatever people you’re playing with, who, again, aren’t really part of the story as multiplayer gamers don’t typically roleplay). The main quest of the game revolves around trying to find the previous Overseer of the vault. There’s zero suspense, interest or urgency, because as a player, you know with complete certainty going in that if you find her, she’ll be dead or a monster. When you remove the NPCs, you remove all our reasons to care about quests. You also remove all interactions in the game besides “kill thing, loot thing, make stuff with loot”. And killing monsters with such laughable AI and glitches, AI designed for Fallout 4 where V.A.T.S could pause the game and dropped into a game where it doesn’t, isn’t nearly enjoyable enough to make that game loop anything but ghastly. How ANYONE thought this was a good idea is beyond me, and I’m pretty sure at this point that they didn’t do it because they thought it was a good idea, they did it because having NPCs function like they would in a singleplayer game, while in a multiplayer server, is an incredibly daunting task. When literally no one asked for the game to be multiplayer in the first place, but hey. Is the game fun to play alone? Not from literally anyone I know who has, no, and this is due to the above factors. Is the game, as the marketing said, more fun to play with your friends? Well, yes, but the same could be said of cleaning out a moldy garage alone versus with friends. Being with friends makes anything more enjoyable. The game does not cease to have all its serious underlying problems when you play with friends, you just have someone to commiserate with and witness this bullshit with you. Is this a new Fallout experience? Not really. It’s Fallout 4 with a prettier landscape, story constrained to holotapes and therefore constrained to the past (and not the present the player is actually playing in!), and it’s arguably not even a Fallout experience at all. It wears a Fallout skin but the core roleplaying, choice, and narrative features of the game are gone, and all that’s left is a world that’s much bigger, but where all the new space is pretty much empty anyhow.  Oh, and the canvas bags for the collector’s edition were cheap vinyl when people got them, Bethesda just went “yeah canvas was too expensive lol, u can have five dollars’ worth of the game’s microtransaction money for free tho if you want, just file a complaint”. The amount of the microtransaction digital money wouldn’t even buy a virtual canvas bag, mind. Then someone threatened a lawsuit, and it looks like people are going to get their actual canvas bags. But they still need to file a complaint, and WHOOPS! They accidentally doxxed everyone who filed a complaint, to some other people who filed a complaint! The absolute cherry on top. (Yes, it really was an accident, it’s even stupider than it sounds.) So what can we take away from all this? Well, I wouldn’t take away much hope for Fallout 76 as a game, for one. It’s a dumpster fire, and they keep pouring gasoline onto it. But the game has scored abysmally low basically everywhere. People have noticed, and they’re not pleased. The game’s price has dropped 30%, and that’s in the first couple weeks after launching, which is completely unheard of for a AAA game. Returns are going wild. Youtube is FULL of videos taking Fallout 76 to town. So clearly, gamers won’t lap up whatever you give them just because it’s a sequel to something they love. The sunk cost fallacy hasn’t run that deep, and people are suddenly extremely skeptical of whatever Bethesda releases next -- which at this rate, is going to be either The Elder Scrolls: Blades, or their new sci-fi game, followed by The Elder Scrolls VII (title as yet unannounced).  I would also suggest that studios may finally have been given a good indication that clumsily slapping multiplayer on something that had success as single-player isn’t the greatest idea. This is a lesson that probably should have been learned years ago, but better late than never.  I would also hope that game studios, Bethesda especially, develop a touch more respect for their fanbase and realize that player bases can be lost. Bethesda has relied upon their fanbase to mod away their bugs, laziness, and incomplete content hampered by release dates for many years now, but faced with a multiplayer game with no mod support, they are put in a position where they have to realize how heavily they’ve been leaning on those mods. But there’s another part of the story that isn’t being covered so much -- one which challenges the assumptions which has led Bethesda and the players to such a disaster in the first place. Red Dead Redemption 2 has been in the makings for a long time now, but was released something like a year late in comparison to its originally announced release date. The new Kingdom Hearts has been repeatedly delayed. I’d expect the fans would have reacted with nothing but outrage! But they ... haven’t, for the most part. There’s been some frustration and groaning, especially with people who have pre-ordered the games, but for the most part, the fans have been pretty understanding. It turns out they’d rather have a game come out finished than come out on time.  That seems simple, and even obvious, but for close to twenty years, it has been the prevailing logic that for a game to sell well, it has to come out at a pre-defined and specific date, and if it isn’t done, that’s just how the process of making games work, and we’ll fix it in bug patches, or wait for mods to fix it. This is such an assumed phenomenon that it shows up repeatedly in Extra Credits, a show which talks in great detail about the production of video games, and I’d be hard-pressed to name a game that I own or play which doesn’t have unfinished content, even if it’s fairly bug-free. But here we are, Red Dead 2 is out, and it’s a roaring success, despite considerable delays. The conventional wisdom is simply wrong. And it gets even better. This is the trailer for The Outer Worlds, a game made by Obsidian. I urge you to watch it. First of all, the game looks good. The graphics are good, the human characters are expressive and dynamic while still looking realistic. The backgrounds are great. The humour is great. The world-building, what we see of it, looks very promising. And oh my god, the shade they throw at Bethesda is gorgeous. Not only does Obsidian highlight themselves as the creators of Fallout and Fallout: New Vegas -- that is, the two most-loved Fallout games -- they play with the concept of a cryogenically frozen player character (possibly lampshading the use of the same concept in Fallout 4), and they point out that player choice isn’t just about a binary “who do you shoot” moment -- another moment from Fallout 4, and one of the few real choices you get to make in that game -- and implies that variety of choice, including non-combat choice, is going to be a Thing in this game. Look at the comments section for that video. You will see hundreds, nay, THOUSANDS of comments praising the trailer, talking about the shade it casts on Bethesda, making New Vegas meme jokes, praising the music, lauding the humour, wondering about the characters it shows us. You know what I didn’t see? Even one single, solitary comment complaining that there’s no definite release date shown anywhere in that trailer. Seriously, watch it again. It doesn’t say exactly when it’s coming out. Just 2019. No month. No date. Just sometime next year. You know... when it’s done. What you might not have known was that The Outer Worlds was originally estimated to come out this year. You didn’t know that because they didn’t release the trailer until just recently -- when they were far enough in production to produce such a great trailer, for one, but also once they were far enough to be certain they would be finished with production within a year.  No one cares when it’s coming. They care that it looks like a good game with so much original effort put into it. That’s what matters. And maybe if the game studios can realize this, we’ll finally see an end to the exploitative bullshit that happens -- exploitative of not just the gamers, but of the thousands of overworked employees it takes to make a AAA video game -- in the service of an absolute deadline above the game itself. God, now that’s a thought. So don’t be discouraged by the failure of Fallout 76. There’s way better on the horizon. The myths that studios need a firm deadline to put out a good game, the myths that players in some way demand a firm deadline, the myth that players will sit there and take any level of bullshit, they’re all being thoroughly, publicly debunked. Feels good, man. Feels good.

#fallout #fallout 76 #the outer worlds #outer worlds #red dead redemption 2 #gaming #release date #rpg #western rpg

[canadian-buckbeaver]

Edgeberry’s Second Chance - Chapter 23 - Battle Front

MTT has shown that he is more than willing to fight his ex-lover and sweet Berry.  The question is not if Edge will spare him, but will he survive the encounter?

- I also went through and updated Chapter 22 -

If you like what I do, please leave me a kudos/like and a comment, or buy me a ko-fi!

Undeterred at the weapons, his fans cheered.  Finally MTT was showing them new tricks.  He wasn’t just up there on the stage, dancing and singing horribly, nor was he trying to tell his off-colour jokes.  Here was the real entertainment.  He was a Human Killer after all, what could two skeletons do to him?

 “STAY BEHIND ME,” Edge ordered Berry.  One of his swords came up to guard the little skeleton.  “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE IS NOW CAPABLE OF. STAY BEHIND ME AND, AT THE FIRST CHANCE, RUN AND HIDE.  I WILL FIND YOU LATER.”

 “But Edge… I…”

 Edge looked over at him.  “I WON’T LOSE YOU AGAIN, BERRY…. NOT TO HIM.”  There was a sincere light to his eyes.  Gone was the madman and the wild Fell warrior, the one who would dust or kill anyone at the chance of raising his LV.  Here was the monster that Berry had seen deep inside, the calm warrior, the one who only wanted to do what is right.

 There was a sound of chainsaws and Edge had just enough time to raise and cross his swords in time to catch MTT’s blow.  In his hands were two chainsaws, both smoothly purring, silver glinting in the spotlight.  The chainsaws sang and whirled desperately against the red bones as Edge’s shaking arms tried to push him back.

 * * * * *

“What’s wrong Papy~” MTT asked, “seems like you were a little distracted there.  Perhaps a little dust in the old eye socket?” he taunted, pushing forward with the machines.  Edge lost a little ground with the chainsaws, boots gauging the floor, gritting his teeth as he struggled to push the robot back.  The crowd was cheering, like a horde of hounds desperate for blood.  This was the best performance that MTT had put on in a long time.

 “BERRY…” Edge whispered, his eye lights leaving the robot’s and risking a quick glance around. The little skeleton was nowhere to be seen.  Perhaps he had taken Edge’s advice and had been able to hide.  He hated asking the little skeleton to do that, yet Berry was obviously untrained in this kind of fighting.  Berry would be more likely to survive if he hid himself away.  Edge was trained in this act of war, he knew how to act and what to do.

 He hoped so… worst comes to worst, he didn’t want Berry to see him die.

 Things were bad. He could see that MTT’s LV and stats were higher than when they had last seen each other.  They had always been high though not as high as his.  But now… now those numbers even higher than Edge’s. He was a huge, deadly threat.  And now the robot had his arms trapped by his chainsaws.  If he even moved one of the swords he risked having the metal teeth cut into him and his armour.  He briefly debated allowing it to happen, if only to give Berry time to escape, but he threw the idea away.

 No.  He was Edge, Captain of the Royal Guards, and beloved mate to Berry.  His mate tattoo still glowed with fresh magic, his bones still warm from Berry’s heat.

 He wouldn’t give up so easily.

 He was Determined.

 His hands and arms may be trapped, but when had that ever stopped him?  He had been named captain for a reason.  Taking a step forward, he angled his toes behind the robot’s. Fixing the angle of his bone attacks, he pressed himself forward.  First MTT took a small, almost tiny, step back, and then another, stumbling over Edge’s feet and causing him to let off some of the pressure of his weapons.  The crowd began to get excited.  This wasn’t going to be such a one-sided match after all. Papyrus was fighting back.

 With a great shove, Edge pushed MTT back, causing him to wobble backwards and release him. Now, with adequate distance between them, now he could show MTT exactly what he was holding back.

 Taking a charging step forward Edge cut down on MTT on an angle, nicking one of his prized chainsaws. The blow, although looked useless and merely cosmetic in nature, gave the motor a small hiccup.  Luckily the other monsters, as well as MTT, seemed to be unaware of this.  They jeered and cheered, hands clapping and feet stamping.  Exactly what go MTT riled up.  As he and MTT began to dance with his chainsaws and blows, red sparks began to fly and sizzle around them.  Metal teeth met bone, time and time again.  Their feet moved effortlessly over the floor, crossing and coming close, retreating and teasing.

 There was a slight change to their routine.  Their blows echoed louder in the hall, and they became closer to their targets, only for MTT to move out of the way in the nick of time.  He began to see it in MTT’s eyes.  The robot was now showboating, gladly showing off what moves that they could pull off together and building the crowd’s excitement…

 Or was it for a more sinister reason…?

 Faster and faster they danced.  Arms and legs were a blur of sweat and sparks.  They were equal titans in this field.  Neither one of them seemed willing to give up so easily, each of them had something that they were fighting for.  Something that, to them, meant something.

 MTT’s chainsaw, the one that Edge had damaged, was beginning to blow white smoke.  There was a stutter in its engine, its speed uneven. MTT was looking at it puzzled, the previous blow still not computing with him.  Edge flipped his sword in his hands, preparing to slice through the glass stomach that housed his borrowed soul.

 “Edge!”  A voice cried out from the crowd, drawing Edge’s attention away from the fight.  Blue! His eyes fell to the audience, looking for him…

 Realizing his mistake a second too late.

 MTT kicked him in the chance, sending him off of his feet and onto his spine.  As he grunted in pain his bones disappeared,

 And a red and yellow stiletto boot came down on his armoured chest.

 “Typical voice recording, darling.  Hopefully you don’t mind me using it.  Figured that you would at least like to hear his voice one last time before the end.” MTT smirked evilly at him, single chainsaw in his many hands now.  The crowd was frantic in its cheering, screaming for the robot to kill him.

 As MTT raised the chainsaw in triumph, Edge closed his eyes.  He thought of Berry’s open arms and large smile, complete with the hearts in his eyes…

 “BERRY…” he whispered as the chainsaw began to scream towards his soul.

 There was a thunking sound, but no pain.

 Edge’s eyes flew open and he saw the long, blue bone impaling the chainsaw into the stage, jamming the mechanisms.  MTT had looked away from Edge and four more bones shot towards him.  These bones cut through his elbows and knees, lacing through the metal like water, and skewering him to the wall behind them. It reminded Edge of those insects that were put on display for humans to look over…

 But who…

 “That was a dirty trick Mettaton.  And Edge was going to beat you fair and square.” Berry’s voice came from beside Edge, his left eye still shimmering with magic.  For a moment he resembled Cherry… “Luckily, he has me to even up the odds.”

 The robot tried to pull himself from the wall but the bones stuck him fast, even damaging his HP when he tried to move.  Instead, he settled to scowl at Berry.  “So what is it that you intend to have me do?  Write lines?  Send me into the corner or in my bedroom for a time out?  Spank me?  Because I’ve been a very naughty boy, Berry.  I could use some punishment.”

 The double meanings were not lost on Berry.  A small flush had come to his cheeks but he did not respond to them.  “And have risk you entering the land of Swap again?  I don’t think so.  How did you enter to drop off that letter?” he demanded.

 MTT only chuckled as a long, metallic tongue wiped at some loose oil.  “It was simple really.  I had long since figured out how and where Papyrus goes to visit you… it was only a matter of turning it on.”

 Edge wanted to growl. Of course… he couldn’t blame Cherry for his mistake.  He had felt eyes occasionally when he had booted up the teleporter before but had dismissed it as his own feelings of paranoia.  But rule number one…

 You can never be too careful in UnderFell.

 Berry helped Edge stand, refusing to look at the robot.  “Let’s go home.”  he said, suddenly looking tired.  “I… my brother…”

 Would probably be worried sick about him now, especially if he realized that Edge himself was with him, Edge thought.  Picking up Berry, he grabbed the blanket that he had used to wrap him in to come to UnderFell and began to carry him out.

 “And what about me, I ask again?”  MTT’s voice broke the little bubble between the two skeletons.

 Edge turned to him, scrutinising him with his clear eye lights.  It was a tempting thought to dismantle the ego-mantic but, at the same time.

 “You’re not worth it. The EXP, the LV, none of it.” Berry said, looking to him.  “There are other, more pressing and important things to worry about.”

 The crowd was becoming restless again.  Loud whispers to one another, and sinister chuckles could be heard.  “BESIDES METTA, YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN AN ACT BECOMES OBSOLETE… THEY GET THE HOOK.” Edge said before walking out the door again. Walking quickly, he and Berry had exited the hotel and were well on their way to the teleporter.  Edge didn’t dare look back or look at the faces of the audience.  

 “The hook?” Berry asked, looking up at him. “Is… is that a pun?”

 Edge shook his head just as there was a loud, glitching scream from behind them. Walking faster he pressed Berry’s skull closer to his chest, not allowing him to look back, not even once. “It’s a torturous procedure that was once only used in traitors of war…” he said simply.  “HE MAY HAVE BEEN SOLD OFF TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER, OR THEY MAY HAVE ALL RUSHED HIM.  BUT I DON’T WANT TO FIND OUT.”

 Berry looked slightly pale, his mouth posed for another question before Edge made it to the little house in UnderFell.  So many memories… memories of him and Sans as baby bones, some foggy ones of their father, Gaster.  Countless memories of watching TV or goofing off or cooking.  Good and bad, young and old, the house had been with them every step of the way.  And yet, when he looked to the little, sweet, blue skeleton in his arms, he knew that he had all that he needed.

 Without looking back at his hometown, Edge strode through the machine, holding tight to Berry. As they walked through the glowing portal, Edge magically turned it off behind them, removing a single screw and tossing it into the universe behind him.  That would be enough to prevent any further access.

 Now no one could access the sweet world of UnderSwap… and he could no longer return to where he was now a traitor, to where his life was in ruins… he had murdered a famous celebrity, probably defied the orders of the king…

 It seemed like a fair trade.

#edgeberry #papyton #us!sans #uf!papyrus #uf!mettaton #fighting #canon-ish mtt fight #underswap sans #underfell papyrus #Underfell mettaton #character death #torture #weapons

[itslokismischief-blog]

Loki x Reader part five

Loki is now back on Earth with Thor after the destruction of their home- Asgard. He meets a new avenger with similar powers to him and is asked to train her to help keep her powers under control. Will the common ground of having similar powers make the two inseparable, or will it cause an immense amount of destruction? part one  part two  part three  part four  part six -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Your hands shook slightly as you zipped up your purple bodysuit. Tony had designed it and made it purple just to match your power. You looked at how exposed the suit made you feel. Your curves were hugged in the right way and it curved perfectly around your breasts and ass. You opened you the palm of your hands and playfully flickered purple energy along your fingertips. You watched yourself in the mirror, it reminded you how much control you had over your powers and you felt a little more confident.

“Ready?”

You jumped as your eyes met an emerald green pair in the mirror. You turned around to see Loki standing there, dressed in his green and gold suit, the one he always wore to train you.

You nodded your head and turned to look at him.

“Let’s go then” he said, turning to walk out of your room. You followed closely after him to see the rest of the avengers already in the common room, dressed in their suits.

“Right, we’re all here. Let’s head off” Tony said as the front of his helmet closed around his face. Tony walked out onto the balcony and flew off, followed by thor as he jumped and flew off. You saw the rest of the group follow Natasha to the jet outside and you went to follow her but Loki stopped you.

“Hey” he touched your arm. “We can teleport, remember?”

“I’ve never done it before” you said.

He reached out his hand and looked at you. You were hesitant to take it at first, but when you did you were thrown into a spinning loop of blurry colours. A few seconds later and you were standing next to Tony and Thor ontop of a hill. You were all facing a large river that stretched out to the other parts of the city. As soon as you landed Loki let go of your hand and stood next to Thor.

“What exactly are we looking for?” you asked, your eyes scanning the many ships and boats down by the port.

“That right there” Tony pointed down to a bunch of shady looking men. “We don’t have time to wait for the others. It’ll take them roughly fifteen minutes to get here. We need to move in now” Tony’s helmet locked up again before he flew off, followed by thor and then Loki. Great, they all left you. There was no way you could teleport yet, so you did what you knew best. You started running down the hill and towards the ships.

As you got closer you saw the events unfolding. You saw Loki’s green energy ripping robots apart. Wait, robots? Where the hell did they come from. You saw Thor’s eyes had gone a bright white and Tony was shooting out at the bots. You saw more of them coming out of the back entrance on a small ship, they were all heading along the deck to the avengers and Loki. You ran towards them and immediately started flinging daggers at them. Once you had taken a few down, the others had noticed you and were turning to you. You sent knives and daggers into the bots, piercing their heads and bodies, watching them drop to the floor proudly. You heard a loud humming sound and you looked up to see the jet hovering over the water. The door opened and suddenly The Hulk came jumping out, smashing a whole clump of the robots. Next came vision and Wanda, using their telepathic power to make the bots float and rip apart in the air. Clint was dangling from a rope attached to the craft as he shot arrow after arrow into the robots, making them collapse to the floor. Next came captain America, using his shield to cut off the heads of the robots. You were so busy watching the Avengers in awe that you hadn’t noticed the full-on army of bots coming towards you.

Your heart fluttered as you saw how many you had to take on, but when you felt your energy flickering across your fingers you lost all doubt. You let out a huge burst of energy, taking out the surrounding bots. This gave you space to throw out your daggers and make clones of yourself. You made so many of you, the bots were getting confused. While they were concentrating on the fake yous, it gave you a chance to take them out swiftly. One by one you were all taking them down. But before you could breath in some fresh air, you spotted the men you saw earlier on one of the boats. They looked around to see if anyone was looking at them when they spotted you. You held eye contact before they looked away and started pushing through a crowd of people to get inside the shelter of the boat.

“Hey! Wait!” you shouted, running and full speed to the boat. It had already started to sail off.

You were running so fast that you didn’t even see the huge wooden stump in front of you. You tried to stop but you were going to quick. You tripped but instead of hitting the ground you saw a flash of blurry colours and landed face first onto of the ship. You slowly got up, stunned with what just happened. You had just teleported. You had no idea how but you did. You smiled to yourself and turned to look at the avengers on the port. You spotted Loki fighting off a robot. When he had sent a dagger through its neck he looked up and saw you on the boat in the sea. You sent him a big smile and he knew that you had teleported. He smiled back but that didn’t last for long. A robot sent a punch his way but instead of making contact, the arm swiung right through Loki, a green glitch being left behind. Your smile faded immediately. Loki’s figure disappeared and you stood frozen in place ontop of the boat.

He was never there. It was just an illusion to keep you from panicking and losing control of your powers. You watched as the other avengers continued fighting, Loki no where to be seen. Your heart started to race. The only reason you came onto this boat was because you thought Loki would be here to help you if you needed it. But he wasn’t.

“Hey, you!”

You turned around to see three men standing at the top of the boat with you. You didn’t know what to do, what to say. One of the men raised his gun and before he could shoot you sent daggers flying at him. One landed in his chest, the other tore right through his neck. You stepped back, waiting for one of the other men to move. They didn’t for a few seconds, but then they pulled out guns. You froze, not knowing what to do. You made two other clones of you and they ran forward at the men, distracting them while you sent a blast of purple energy into one of the men’s chest, sending him flying back onto the front deck of the boat. You turned to look at the other man who now had his gun pointed at you. The other two clones were gone, he knew you were real. Before you could think you teleported behind him and touched his arm, sending both you and him flying into another memory.

There was a little kid, you assumed it was him. He was cowering in a corner, shaking with fear.

“Where are you?” A booming voice arrived behind his bedroom door.

You watched as a rather muscular man opened it. He kept the light off and closed the door behind him, locking it. You didn’t want to see what happened next. You already knew and you definitely didn’t want this man to live through that memory again, no matter how bad he was.

You let go of the memory and started flying back out of his mind. Thats when you started to feel it. The burning pain coursing through your veins. No, no, no. This cant be happening right now. You opened your eyes to see daylight, but the next second your vision was clouded with purple energy as you recoiled against the man, the burst of energy sending you flying off the boat. You felt like you were falling in slow motion, staring up at the sky as you dropped into the water, which felt oddly cooling against your now hot skin. You felt the body of water envelop around you, cutting off your oxygen. You had no energy to swim to the surface. You let the weight of your body get pulled down deeper into the water. You stared up at the blurry sun reflecting on the water. You thought about how stupid you were for actually thinking Loki would go with you guys. You wondered if the rest of the team knew it was a clone or if you were the only gullible one. He was at fault as well. How could he possibly think you were ready after one week. Yes you had your powers in control, but that was in a closed and secure environment. You knew that Loki would be there to stop you from out bursting. But now he wasn’t, and you were about to lash out.

The water around you was starting to warm up as your body temperature rose. You felt bursts of purple energy pulsating out of your body. Your body convulsed as the energy flew out of you. It was reaching the surface of the water. Hope fully one of the avengers would see and come to get you.

Your prayers were soon answered. Someone dived into the water, skilfully dodging all your bursts of energy. Your sight was growing dark and you knew what was coming next. The dark abyss of nothingness while your body recovered from your outburst. Just before you passed out, you saw a round metal shine coming towards you. then the three colours. White, red and blue. It was Captain America.

You don’t know how long you had been out for. But when you woke up you felt like shit. You felt weak and useless. You were officially back at square one. You moved your fingers slowly to feel where you were. You weren’t ready to open your eyes yet. You felt bedsheets and a familiar mattress under you. You were in bed. Once you knew you were in a safe place you opened you eyes and sat up. Wrong move. You dry heaved over the side of your bed. There was nothing in your stomach to throw up, so you were just letting your body jolt as it tried to rid of the sick feeling. Once you were done you laid back down and let out a breathy sigh.

“I told you not to sit up straight away. It’ll make you sick”

You quickly sat back up again upon hearing a voice in your room. You saw Loki sitting at the end of your bed. Surely, he wasn’t there before, right?

You didn’t say anything but you kept your eyes on him. He avoided your watchful gaze, feeling guilty about what had happened. You slowly stood up and walked over to him. He sat with his legs open at the edge of your bed and you stood between his legs. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could talk you passed a hand through his head. You saw it leave a glitch behind and you gave him a sad smile. Your suspicions were right. He still wasn’t here. You turned to walk back to your bed but he quickly stood.

“Let me explain-”

You didn’t want to hear it. You sent a blast of energy through him and watched as his clone disappeared. You tried to hold back your tears but you couldn’t, and you felt helpless as they streamed down your face. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel) #loki x reader #loki #tony stark #captain america #iron man #steve rogers #marvel #the avengers #tom hiddleston #loki fanfiction #loki smut

[thefinerpoint]

Baron Fig Lock and Key Limited Edition

Baron Fig sent me their latest limited edition, Lock and Key, to review here on the blog. All thoughts on these products are my own.

This is the second double limited edition Baron Fig have released and this time they bought out the big guns! The difference between this edition and their first double limited edition release, the School Set is you can buy both parts separately, presumably due to the high cost of the Squire pen. Both parts of this limited edition are the Lock - the Confidant notebook and the Key - the Squire pen.

The Lock.

The Lock is packaged in the usual Baron Fig box. I really appreciate these boxes and often used them to store my unused / used Vanguard Baron Fig notebooks. It’s almost a way of keeping them orderly. Anyway… the box is the same emerald green colour as the Lock notebook but with includes lovely gold detailing.

Inside the box is a try-fold leaflet with a poem laying out the intention of this limited edition notebook and inside the maze or riddle that you’re supposed to be solving. The gold foiling on this leaflet is really impressive especially on such bright white paper. It really glows.

As I mentioned the Confidant is an emerald green colour which has a maze pattern embossed on the front and back. The colour is really nice, it looks almost regal and definitely classy.

The theme continues on the inside cover and title page with the white and gold maze pattern.

The paper inside is the normal and ever popular dot grid (I’m dreaming of a limited edition Confidant ruled notebook).

To finish it off there is a gold bookmark to compliment the theme throughout.

I have used several of Baron Fig Confidant notebooks, a couple of which have been limited editions and the Lock continues an impressive Confidant limited edition design series. The Lock is the second time Baron Fig have gone for a full embossed cover and I really liked it, it works so nicely with the linen covers giving a second layer of texture.

The Key.

The second aspect to this limited edition is the Squire, or the Key. The idea here is that with both parts you can solve the riddle, and there may be prizes from Baron Fig if you get it right.

The packaging for the Squire comes in the usual tube but this one comes with an alphabet and symbols relating to each letter, hence the name the Key. Paired with the Lock Confidant notebook in theory you should be able to solve the problem Baron Fig have handed us. I am hopeless at this kind of thing and therefore got nowhere in solving the riddle, useless I know.

Rather than other limited edition Squire pens, the key isn’t just a paint job. This time Baron Fig have really changed things up giving us a brass Squire. They could have just gone with a gold coloured aluminium pen to keep in with the theme, keep their costs down and perhaps make it appeal to a broader auidence, but they didn’t and chose to try something different.

There is no doubt that this limited edition Squire looks good. The gold colour works well and the edition etching of the key is hidden, unless you’re looking you’re not going to see this.

I really liked my first experience with the Squire, The Insightful Spectre. It’s a pen that is perfect for using on the move, there are no caps to use, it’s small and takes a refill I have really grown to like. The Key is different though because it’s made from brass which instantly changes up the weighting on this pen. It’s not horrendous but if you own a Squire already, there is a huge difference.

Aesthetically the Key is the same as other Squire pens, the same twist mechanism, the same refill, the same tapering design, the same size. I have quite liked all of these features in my Insightful Spectre and the smallish size again was a bonus for me. With the Key I think I will enjoy using this but not for long periods of time as I think I’d tire very quickly due to the doubling of the weight. There does appear to be a glitch with my Squire where the twist mechanism seems to unscrew the pen and not just pull in the refill which has been a little irritating in the use I’ve had so far.

Overall thoughts.

I think this is a cracking limited edition release from Baron Fig. The Lock Confidant definitely ticks a lot of boxes and I really like the colour scheme of this release. The Key Squire is really very nice and considering it’s only $10 more than a Squire pen its great value for money. Baron Figs Squire pens rarely last long so if a shortish brass pen is your bag then I would snap one of these up while you can.

I like that Baron Fig are making exciting releases and finding ways of linking up their product range. It sort of forces you to consider more of their product range rather than singular products. While doing this the limited editions aren’t too far removed from what the base of the original product is about. It’s a difficult thing to get right, but so far Baron Fig are doing it well.

#Baron Fig #Baron Fig Squire #Baron Fig Confidant #Limited edition

[illogicalshockwave]

Something i’ve been thinking about after updating myself with @mnemoiisms backstory for their Trepan.

Trepan’s recovery after being shot.

Blackness.

They say that when your spark finally extinguishes that an afterlife lies beyond it with the god who gave you shape in the waking world which you once roamed but it had been a lie. Primus... 

He was dead. He had finally been offlined; the thought occurred to him dully, like looking at the rippling surface of water from the underneath and not being able to quite grasp the image it reflected back. He was dead, greyed out and a mass of vaporised plastics and metal from the canon of a leader he should of finished the job of back on Messentine. 

Trepan couldn't even muster the energy to feel anything in response, this was a world of nothingness now. He couldn't understand even if he wanted to.

Only he wasn't quite done yet.

White hot agony made the surgeon scream out into the nothingness he knew but there was no sound- no frame to contort and so he endured as this feeling persisted until that too vanished into the void again. Trepan was alone again, and still he dwelled in the infinite reaches of a realm that had no explanation nor comprehension. His thoughts however were clearer now,  both echoing around for miles and yet silent in nature. Wherever that pain had gone, it had left behind a sense of clarity. He could think and understand, but not the blackness. He could think about his last moments but that made the pain flash so he chose to remember Messentine.

The clinic, the strict schedule and rules so tight nobody else but himself and a few others could navigate with ease. The institute, and with a vague sense of dread, what had lead to this. Overlord. The name was repulsive and bitter, nearly as bitter as the other one but this he could tolerate.

Then the pain returned- blistering and he was screaming again only the white hotness invaded his vision and suddenly Trepan wasn't suspended in darkness anymore and he was writhing, vocals glitching and heaving as at last he could hear again. He could only scream, but from the lack of moving he was restrained, this much the surgeon knew. 

Whatever had happened, he had been revived from the certainty of death somehow and his frame was not complying to his wishes. He must of been screaming for hours, tugging and snarling at restrains as the sudden snap back to reality came to take its toll. Somewhere in the background a lab full of scientists worked stoically, restructuring the small mnemosurgeons frame and injecting lines, IV dripping with essential fluids which kept him from dipping back into the oblivion. 

A conversation continued unaffected between a purple warframe and a scientist turned medic. "The cost does not matter. I am doing this to see if I can."

Trepan wasn't sure what he preferred, eternal nothingness or this noisy chaotic hell he had been thrust into but frag if it made him focus on what mattered. Living. Surviving, by any method possible.

Eventually despite his fight he did fall back, but only through being forced and even then through the tears and the choked sobs of demands for help (not cries, he was not that weak) he held the unfocused gaze of the doctors as he slipped away again. For once, he welcomed oblivion. The next trip into consciousness was still painful but not enough to scream. He became aware someone was speaking directly to him, asking questions over and over until finally he responded.

"De-sig... Nation... Trep-an. Occupa-ti-on. Mne-e-emosurg-ge...on." Whoever asked seemed pleased, shifting in their seat by the sound of it. Trepan didn't dare look up, he was already shaking from the physical exertion not to break his vocalizer from use again. His voice was glitching and strained, and thank primus they didn't ask more questions but whoever it was talking was no longer speaking to him. Instead his frame entered a state of complete and utter numbness, a stasis without the recharge making his antennae slump on the medical berth he was still restrained against and the tense bowing arch of his spinal strut follow in a similar fashion. His vision wavered but the sudden best of both worlds had him unknowingly giggly, smiling to himself as the world continued to progress around him.

It was a constant after that, answer things right and he would receive treatment to numb his pain, and when that progressed he was told to move now unrestrained limbs while lying on his back. Bit by bit Trepan focused, understanding that this was physical and mental therapy for someone who had sustained damage thought unrepairable. 

He was easing his frame into moving, but not his spinal cord and he wasn't oblivious as to why. He had done this for others before, and he now knew what the blackness was from before. After the blast it had somehow not hit his spark directly and instead his casing and armour took the brunt. Whoever had found him had severed the connection of his brain module and spark and relocated them in an artificial chamber until his frame was mostly repaired-

Mostly.

His armour had melted together, tubing and chevron unsightly and horribly marred for all to see, once spectacular and immaculate white now scorched a permanent tar colour. Articulation had to be completely redone and even now his joints still grinded against one another, and his back was still completely immobile but his fragile spark was stable. The sudden burst into reality and the screaming had been from the first reconnection of his mind and essence, doctors needing him awake and able to feel to confirm the operation was a success.

Moving his back was the next challenge, accepting the support of doctors despite his ego and holding on for dear life as they lifted the berth upright with himself still strapped down on it. He was standing- actually standing, but still pressed firmly in place. He let them handle him like a doll, did what he was told because despite internal hatred brewing all directed at his useless state someone had saw fit to give him a second chance. He didn't plan on wasting it, not when there was a helm marked for surgery that had yet to heed its call.

Many months later, Trepan walked with ease again. He had been released on medical leave, the institute more than happy to give their top mnemosurgeon time to recover after their unending loyalty to them, but it had all been with the unnerving knowledge that he was on a timer. His spark lacked the innermost energon that once surrounded it and had grown weaker with its absence than it already had before- he needed material for his spark too but those kinds of things even the institute had no hand in. Frames were plentiful but the energon and spark needed to remain untouched. And so he was faced with a timer, and the ever growing hunger for revenge.

Revenge against life, revenge against the hand he had been dealt. Revenge against him.

So as Trepan sat up from his berth, blinds letting slats of artificial daylight in to slant across his once mangled now less so frame, he steepled his digits together and for the first time since the incident let the needles in each digit tip pressurise and extend. Each one was menacing and could pierce through armour inches thick after he invested in an upgrade. Most of his sick pay had gone towards it and the new set of plating to cover his melted protoform but it had been worth it. A terrible idea most foul entered his mind and a slow sinister smile stretched out across his faceplates.

If the world was going to rip out his spark and innermost, and leave him with nothing...

He was just going to take someone else's.

#aka #trepan's cannable origin story #trepan #mnemoiisms #synopsis of the past (fiction) #maccadam #transformers #au where trepan lives #mtmte #fan fiction #idw #tw #disassociation #intense pain #all that good stuff

[psychopathicwriting]

you were my sunshine

It’s come to our attention that some of you wish for a little bit of romance between two people in this house. Perhaps you wish for this a little too much.

So here! Have a look into a possible future!  If you all want him to love so badly watch closely at what it will end up doing to him. But it isn’t him you should be worried for. It’s him you should worry about.

For someone who is incapable of love to do so, is dangerous. What do you think happens to people who have no idea what the emotion is, to suddenly be so overcome by it? Especially when they are an alternate such as him?

So ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…

Gather round, gather round!

Sit back relax and please, stay in your seats.

Kick your feet up and grab some popcorn.

Oh, and of course…

Ohoho, lest we not forget!

Enjoy the show.

Anti walked into the house and immediately knew something was wrong. He shouldn’t have left the house for as long as he did. He thought it was a situation that could be kept under control, but apparently not. He walked farther into the house. A certain smell met him when he got closer to the stairs.

He sighed and followed the smell to the upstairs bathroom. The door wasn’t closed so he clearly saw wine coloured hair at the window and puffing out a grey puff of smoke. He watched as she put the lighter down and coughed a bit. She saw him after a while.

“Anti!” the girl smiled. The girl got up and went to hug Anti. The action was strange, she wasn’t of a hugger. She didn’t even allow people to touch her all that much. Clearly, she had been drinking on top of smoking whatever it was. Anti glitched a bit at the contact too. He also wasn’t much of a hugger… obviously.

“How messed up are you?” he asked. The girl just looked up and smiled. Her left hand went up to touch Anti’s poofed up hair. Apparently a lot. If Dark saw her now, he’d never hear the end of that annoying brat’s complaining over how it was his responsibility blah, blah, blah…

Anti had led her away from the bathroom.

But currently he was leading people into a hospital basement. Specifically, near the morgue. He was aware of the irony in that. Leading people to target was the easy part. Almost too easy. It was as if humans didn’t learn from horror movies and curiosity took over them to make stupid decisions.

These three had made the stupid decision to follow Anti just by him flashing the knife in their face. Despite the fact the hospital was full of people, they still felt afraid and compelled to do what he said, as if following the obvious bad guy would save their life. He didn’t even have to voice a threat, the knife was enough for them. These three were definitely cowards. Anti would admit that right now he didn’t mind breaking away from his standards his victims usually had to have, but he was definitely okay with killing weaklings.

One by one, Anti whistled down the halls and down stairs towards the spot where he would have his fun. One by one Anti led them into the large room filled with black pipes that lined the walls and ceiling. One by one they huddled themselves to the wall farthest from Anti, clutching onto the pipes. It amused him, how people thought that holding things would make them safe, how staying as far as possible from him would make them invisible to Anti. It was also amusing how they huddled into a group like penguins trying to keep warm. There was no strength in numbers, not with Anti.

One by one, Anti giggled and the voices sang a song as he closed the door, one step closer to the main event.

It had been a difficult week for the girl for multiple reasons. This was the calmest she had been in a while, even it was caused just by a couple glasses of alcohol and some pot. Either way, it was a start.

Dark was gone, Anti remembered. Dark was gone and made Anti promise to watch the girl so she wouldn’t do anything stupid. But he failed in that area. So when Anti smelled the stench of weed, he knew he had to stop her. He had gone to get her from the bathroom and led her to the couch, where they had been for almost an hour flipping through channels. The girl couldn’t really pay attention to it.

“You shouldn’t smoke and drink,” Anti said. “Look at you.” He eyed the girl who almost looked happy. She was smiling faintly and had sat extremely close to Anti. He wasn’t glitching at the moment so it worked for her.

“I’m cold,” she said simply and almost slowly. “Took me a while to say that.” Anti almost wanted to laugh. She was a different person right now. Really calm and didn’t talk much. It was interesting to Anti, who was used to the snappy comebacks and yelling back and forth. Although, it wasn’t a change that he liked all that much.

He put an arm around the girl and she moved so close that she was all but sitting on Anti’s lap. It was a strange thing for him, to be this close to a person. To be this… was intimate the right word? with another person. Was this how people did it? Was this how Dark did it to get people to need him?

Needless to say, Anti was confused. He remembered wanting to rub the girl’s arm to make her a bit warm. Instead he just kept still. Watching a stupid game show. Jeopardy! he thought it was. The question was why would Anti feel the need to rub her arm to keep her warm?

Answer: he didn’t know. And not knowing himself was making him a tad bit frustrated.

He watched with little to no attention to anything, until the girl in a sleepy state, started singing.

The room wasn’t all that dark inside, there were a couple of lights hanging from the ceiling. This room was clearly only used to check the water pressures going to different levels of the hospital. No one would be here for a couple of hours. That was the perfect amount of time that he needed for this play time. The shadows from the pipes made the room look much darker than it actually was. The one woman that Anti had brought could be heard whimpering and crying. One of the men was trying to console her, tell her that everything would be alright. Anti laughed when he heard that as he paced, surveying them all.

“How precious!” he cackled. “You think you can make it out… alive… that’s way too optimistic. Even for you.” The humans said nothing to him. They stayed silent except for the crying and shallow breathing that came from the buckets of fear each of them were letting out.

Anti loved having their complete attention. They focused on his every move, followed his every glitch, even tried recoiling when he took a step forward. Anti laughed, his neck craning at odd angles, the voices singing still – slowly, childlike, sweetly.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away.” Anti froze even more when he heard it. It baffled him. Confusion grew and grew in his chest. And what made him so confused baffled him even more. Anti held his breath when the girl wrapped her arm around him. He could tell her eyes were shut. She was falling asleep.

And still singing the song.

“The other night, dear as I lay sleeping. I dreamed I held you in my arms. But when I woke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.”

Slowly with each passing second, she fell into a deeper sleep. The turned to humming and the humming got softer and breathier until there was nothing but silence and steady breaths.

She had been having a difficult week.

Anti was trying his best not glitch to the point the girl would wake up. But he was having issues keeping it together. He felt weak. And he was anything but weak. He’d rather be stupid and unlucky than be weak. He’d rather cease to exist than be weak.

But the girl hugging him and sleeping peacefully with her legs across his lap made him crane his neck. His arm, the one not wrapped around the girl, glitched violently. His knife, he itched for his knife. That could fix everything. Just one clean cut right along that neck… wouldn’t even feel a thing. Wouldn’t know what hit her.

Blood. It covered Anti’s hands and shirt. It covered the floor. The stench of fear and pain clouded his mind. He had something to prove and the latest victim was helping him prove it.

One of the few lights hanging from the ceiling shined on Anti and his victim who was traumatized beyond belief. After all, she had just seen two people brutally tortured and killed in the most gruesome way that she wouldn’t even have been able to imagine. One was cut with a red hot knife, stapled hundreds of times with a staple gun and then having the staples pulled out – sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly.

The second was overweight. So Anti took the red hot knife once again, and carved the fatty flesh right off. The jaw was drilled into, tongue cut out, the blood had pooled in the mouth, choking them to death. Anti knew that wouldn’t be enough. So he had brought himself a third victim. Who oddly had a similar figure and face structure as someone he was trying so hard to forget.

“You look like her,” Anti said putting a bloody hand on the third’s face. “Except…” Anti turned the head to face him, forcing them to look at him. “The eyes. Yours are plain, old, brown.” An image of her confusing green or brown eyes flooded his mind. He couldn’t see them when she closed her eyes, singing…

I’ll always love you

Anti glitched violently the voices screaming in agony. He grit his teeth and dug his thumbs into the eye sockets, pulling out the useless things. The scream was enough to drive him mad. Anti squeezed the eyes till they burst and then tossed them aside. His eyes were black and processed everything in flashes.

And make you happy

“And you’re hair isn’t curly.” Anti took a look at the flat straight hair of the toy he had on the table. He took a handful of hair and yanked it off the head, bits of scalp left with it. The scream still had not ceased. But they wouldn’t shut up.

If you will only

Anti went to grab a knife. The walk there seen in bits as his black eyes clouded him from being able to see as cinematically as normally. When he was back at the table he saw he had grabbed a jagged knife. He looked at the right leg.

Say the same

He was grateful for the screaming. It muddled his memory of the girl’s voice singing. But when they had to come up for breathe, he heard her plain as day. He pushed the knife into the leg and sawed off until he got to a major nerve. Every touch to the nerve made the screams louder, the sobs more painful, the “no’s” more horrified than pleading. The song rang louder. He cut the nerve.

But if you leave me

Flip them over.

And love another

Carve words into the skin.

You’ll regret

Cut into the back of the neck.

It all

Grab the spine.

Someday

Death.

Anti’s eyes flashed back to normal, he took deep breaths, almost gasping for air, almost exhausted. His hands aimed behind him at his sides. He looked up at the light hanging from the ceiling.

No, he wasn’t weak. He… was not… weak.

He walked away from the room leaving the three bodies alone, draining, rotting. He wouldn’t be back for them. Instead he’d leave them for the humans to find. Leave them to decipher the words carved into skin. Words Anti never read because of his black eyes and the lack of vision that came with it.

Anti was the strongest one of all.

Please don’t take my sunshine away

Anti screamed in frustration, slamming fists into the metal door. He had to forget the song. Had to forget her. Why couldn’t he forget?

I hope you're all happy at what you’ve done.

You’ve broken the balance.

I hope you all realize that no, this didn’t happen.

I’m just giving you a taste at what it would be.

I hope you realize what that would do to him. To love.

This doesn’t even touch on what it would do to her, but after all, he is the one you all romanticize. The one you all wish to make the reformed bad boy cliché come to life.

We can’t tell the future, no.

But we know that this is only the surface of what would happen.

This doesn’t even explain why the rest of us can’t love.

Yeah, you all want us to be these broken demons who have lost loves and vow to never love again. Ha!

You and your fantasies.

You couldn’t be any more wrong.

It is very much your fault.

All your own.

#love is worthless #love is pointless #love is weakness #there is no need for it #i dont need it #you dont need it #itd be better if you had none of it #dont let anyone in #not into your head #not into a heart that doesnt feel #keep #everyone #OUT #anti #antisepticeye #Darkiplier #infelix #pewdarkpie #dark #little fic #milestone fic #the ship

[asena-adad-blog]

DVD Player Following the previous assignment I wanted to carry on with the idea of representing glitch as a physical event or a physical interruption. The word glitch refers to an unpredictable irregularity in a system. Combining the two ideas together of a physical event and unpredictability I managed to create the DVD player. My original intention was to continue with motherboards and computers. However, after searching and looking at Reverse Garbage I was not able to find any. I decided to look around Reverse Garbage to see if they had anything I could use or get an idea from. I saw a tub full of empty CD and DVD covers and I thought about scratches and dents on the CD’s or DVD’s and how they create glitches. I wanted carry on with this idea and do what I would have done with the motherboards or computer bits, that is to splash paint on them which is similar to what I had done in the first assignment. As an experiment I got blank CD’s and splashed acrylic paint mixed with a little water to create a thinner liquid. I wasn’t completely pleased with the outcomes of the red, yellow, green. Burnt umber and blue as I found they looked dull and thin. I had a previous idea of creating wax, candle like figure of a motherboard and adding colours and for the glitch to be as the max melted the colours combining. However, I wasn’t completely thrilled with this idea and had decided to push to the side for the mean time. However, this idea did give me the idea to mix different colours with wax and drip them on the blank CD’s similar to the paint. I was extremely pleased with the end result, as the colourful was drops seemed to pop, was three-dimensional and looked as if the CD’s had a disease or infection compared then the flat acrylic paint. I then thought of how I could take this further. Using the CD and DVD covers I thought about constructing a DVD player. The idea of this was related back to glitch being a physical event and while watching a movie, for example and it being scratched provides an unpredictable disturbance. The movie becomes useless which means the DVD player also becomes useless and non-functional. After doing some extended research I found articles that support this idea, of the scratch being a glitch in which creates minor disturbances without actually damaging its major functioning. Glitch is symbolic to the nonhuman labour while revealing the limits of humanism. These accidental glitches represent the ideology of realism through the differentiation of human, natural and technological processes. This research extends the notion of the unpredictability between the CD and its function and the DVD and DVD player. The consumer is left helpless and irritated to have a glitch that morphs the film or music they had intended to consume. It is then the consumers’ decision on how to over take this disturbance. Whether to purchase a new CD or DVD or to continue to watch/listen with the glitch creates the functional value to decrease. The unpredictability of CD’s and DVD’s has turned consumers to the much easier, faster and functional technological services such as Netflix and Spotify. These services furthermore emphasises the uselessness of DVD’s and CD’s further creating the DVD player useless. Personally, I hardly hear anymore, ‘let me burn it on a CD’ or ‘let me pick a movie from my DVD collection’ anymore. It’s ‘let me listen on Spotify’ or ‘what do you want to watch on Netflix’. The scratch representing a glitch creates a rippling affect if the physical event and interruption that creates a devalued and useless device. Betancourt, Michael. Glitch Art in Theory and Practice : Critical Failures and Post-Digital Aesthetics, Taylor and Francis, 2016. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/lib/unsw/detail.action?docID=4684032. Cubitt, Sean. Cultural Politics: Glitch. 2017 by Duke University Press. http://culturalpolitics.dukejournals.org.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/content/13/1/19 McDevitt. Jack. Glitch. June 2013, Penny Publications. https://search-proquest-com.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/docview/1326419525?rfr_id=info%3Axri%2Fsid%3Aprimo Krapp, Peter. Noise Channels : Glitch and Error in Digital Culture, University of Minnesota Press, 2011. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/lib/unsw/detail.action?docID=819530.

[zsielous]

I do want to read your opinions

Well, sure. If you guys want to read one of my game critiques, just read beneath the cut, as this is gonna be a long post.

Crash Bandicoot: Twinsanity is one of those games that I hate to love, and love to hate. To put it on the most basest terms, To sum my entire feelings of it, it’s mediocre. As in, it’s dreadfully boring in almost every aspect. Even when I was young, and playing through it, I found myself incredibly bored of it’s concept and plot to the degree that I either moved to PC entirely, or shipped to a different series entirely by the point I had gotten as far as I could be bothered to. The level design is archaic and linear, the challenge ranges from mind-numbingly boring to annoying levels of difficult, and a lot of the game’s pacing and story feel stilted and odd.

But let’s break things down piece by piece so I can explain why the game’s bad. First, let’s focus on the main aspect - the gameplay. The controls are well-done - surprisingly so. Everything feels about how it should be, good levels of resistence from boxes, spinning and movement feel good. But the jumping is the first arrow in this games Achille’s heel. The gravity in this game is... Off. By a wide margin. It feels like Crash should, and sometimes can, jump higher, longer, and without as much control as other games. In a lot of the other games, you could control your jumps. Everything feels odd and floaty in the air, and sometimes jumps can be frustrating to make, especially when they require focus. Wrath of Cortex, for example, had a fairly set gravity and controlling yourself whilst in the air was manageable to the degree where you could complete most of the challenges. Twinsanity felt... Floaty.

Let’s talk about moveset. Most of Crash’s moves from previous games are outright abandoned. No powerups, no cool, nifty little tricks. Just spinning and jumping. Sliding works about 2% of the time, and the other 98%, you die, or would do the job quicker spinning or simply jumping on them. While that’s nothing new for the Crash formula, it feels lazy how little you have to do. Enemy placement is usually sporadic enough as it is (until you get to the ant levels, where if you don’t spin, you’ll die quickly) that generally speaking, even spinning is useless. The crates they provide are mere distractions from the incredibly linear story and level design. Sure, you can get the coloured gems, but they’re so few and far between the levels, it’s easier just to get past the story as it is. Speaking of story...

Let’s focus on this game’s greatest flaw. The story. Dear God, the story. They had so much potential with this game’s story. Crash and Cortex teaming up together to fight an otherworldly evil that Cortex himself created. That sounds like the coolest, best idea you could have. Even the intro is promising, where Cortex lures you into a trap where you find all the other bosses from the previous games, all lined up and ready to beat you down. You could’ve done so much in the opening fight - like having a boss rush, or placing bosses throughout the story with their own little zones or stories and conflicts. But no. They’re just there one moment and gone the next. You only fight a total of four Crash bosses that are from Crash games. And one of them, N. Gin, is literally just a waiting game. No cool battle in space, or at sea on his admittedly cool giant naval ship. No, you fight him on a tiny platform and make him explode himself. Then two minutes after a very generic “boulder chase” sequence (really, it was not that great, but a nice little reference), you fight a DUO of N. Brio and N. Tropy. That has so many possibilities! Could you imagine fighting N. Brio as N. Tropy warps you from location to location, past and future? That would be insane! But no. You fight them on a tiny iceberg. Dingodile shows up midway through the game, and his fight is... Pathetic. 

The original bosses - the three of them that there are - range from pathetic, to insanely hard without exploits, to impossible. Mecha Bandicoot is an echo of what the N. Gin fight could’ve been. In fact, I’d wager that it’s harder than N. Gin is. And mind you, this thing is not tricky in the slightest. Madamme Amberly is... Hard. That’s all there is to it. Cortex controls like a much sloppier Crash, and his ranged weapon is pointlessly pathetic. And it has ammo that you need to keep track of. When you fight Amberly, you’re graced with infinite ammunition, but her fight is mash central, and one of the main reasons I couldn’t beat the game as a kid. It was so arbitrarily difficult that it wasn’t fun. It wasn’t until much later until I found out about an explot you could use to glitch her priority targeting that the fight became a cakewalk. We’ll get to the final boss. Let’s talk about the design.

This game is gorgeous. Drop-dead, hands-down one of the most colourful and well-designed PS2 games I’ve played to date. You could tell a lot of heart and soul went into the project just looking at the concept art and the models and animations. Everything looks stellar, almost better than some PS3 or 360 games I’ve played to date. It’s atmospheric in some places, and ingenious in others, from the totemic, tribalistic regions on N. Sanity island, to the futuristic complex of Cortex’s Arctic lair, to the gothic designes of Madamme Amberly’s, to the warped world of the 5th dimension - it’s all designed brilliantly. Shame the levels are dead-straight tracts of land. They had all these great elements and they never got to use them, or just made the game far too linear to explore some more cool themes. The soundtrack is excellent - an acapella group recreating all the sounds of instruments just using their voices? In some places, it’s cheery and goofy (the N. Sanity Beach theme is still stuck in my head), and others it’s grim and depressing (the 5th dimension is still haunting to this day). Again, the final boss is perhaps the greatest theme of all time in my brain, but we’ll get to that. Promise.

Let’s get back to the story. The story is the biggest crutch. It’s begging for Cortex to have a whole stock of cool and unique weapons and gadgets at his disposal to deal with his problems rather than dirty his hands. The new threat even beats out his own master, Uka-Uka AND Aku-Aku together. You’d think Cortex would, oh, I don’t know, fabricate hundreds of machines or robots to defeat them, or they would find a means of turning the other bosses against you. Nope. They appear a grand total of FOUR TIMES. And they only intervene ONCE. Every other time they laud about how powerful they are and what they’re going to do to the planet Earth, then piss off to who knows where to do... Nothing. Their minions make more appearances than they do! Dingodile makes more appearances than they do! They aren’t showing how evil this new evil is. They don’t show them doing the things they claim to be doing. The most they do to convince Cortex is remove his brain from his skull. That’s it. Okay, cool, now do something like steal parts of his brain to make him a good guy, or steal the ideas for his next plan. Nope, they just shunt it back in there after pulling it out. They send minions to do their job because they have no power to do extraordinary things. It’s... Depressing. A huge buildup for the advertising, and the game, and we’re delivered a very generic, bland experience. No unique or memorable bosses (save the final boss), no actual semblance of a plot (outside of stop the bad guys) and no Evil versus Evil. It’s just “oh, they’re here, best stop them”. There is so little about this story or the actual threat the Evil poses that this game falls flat on it’s face. In the original Crash, you could see where the shifts happened - Island 3, which is mechanized pollution and radioactive waste, more mechanical levels), Crash 2 had the whole futuristic theme to it (as did Crash 3)... Things built up to stopping Cortex as he was about to achieve his goals. Twinsanity you walk in before the goals were even started, and you fight the final boss. Let’s talk about this. Because the final boss is important to me on so many levels.

The final boss of Crash Twinsanity... Is legendary. It is, by far, the best example of what this game could’ve been. You fight a giant mechanical scarab-ant-thing, armed with flamethrowers, minions, lazers, guns, explosives... This thing is a gigantic threat. It’s even got shields. You fight this thing in the heart of an insane factory that produces the minions, in a small arena surrounded by a moat of lava with a kickass song playing as all three playable characters doing their own thing to stop the boss. And by God, it is why I love this game so much. There is so much potential brimming from this one boss. You use the platforming skills from Nina to break down it’s shields, you fight as Cortex shooting away it’s main guns, then you beat the mech down WITH MECHA BANDICOOT. My GOD it is so satisfying. This boss is so well-designed, it feels like an actual struggle, like an actual fight for your life. My copy of the game bugged, so when I played as Nina, I had to jump in the dark to try reach the hook-holds of the shield generators, which made the game so much more tense for me, at least. It’s just a crying shame that the rest of the game is piddle-pandering to the crowd that it misses out on what could’ve been so good. If the rest of the game was like this one boss - actual threats, real tension, and use of character skills beyond just the quirk of playing them, then Twinsanity would’ve been the number one Crash game of all time. 

But it isn’t. It’s a mess of a game. A very pretty mess, but it wants to push presentation over gameplay or story. Everything is cookie-cutter and generic. It’s such a disappointment. But the final boss makes this game so, so worth it. All in all, I give the game a 3/10. There just isn’t enough of the game that I think is good, but the final boss pushes this from being a title not worth picking up.

#my opinions #game critique #Crash Twinsanity #Crash Bandicoot #this is in reference to another ask btw #sorry this took so long #Anonymous

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AX3002 Practical Project Reflection: Time Plan - End Of Week 3

Friday once again, and this is how my time plan is looking:

This week went more or less okay and I managed to get most of my tasks done to how I wanted them. I think that some of the backgrounds do need a bit of tweaking (hence why some are coloured ‘In Progress’ but I can always come to fixing that when it comes to animate that certain scenes.

 It was harder than I thought to try and envisage how i’d composite the backgrounds without having the characters yet. The rest of the backgrounds I’m really happy with so far and I pray the characters will work well with them.

As for the additional characters, there was a few poor animals I totally forgot to rig but it should literally take me around 5/10 minutes to fix so i’m not worried about that.

My biggest problem I’m facing at the minute is trying to complete the fluent turn rig, for some reason when both rigs are brought within the same project file, the joystick controller squashes down and becomes completely locked and useless, I’ve never had this problem before and I have since before managed to bring in two rigs into the same project without this problem. Even compositing them separate does not fix this and I have no idea why, I’m going to tweak a few layer names and try again. I can manage to animate both rigs within their own project folder but as soon as they are imported elsewhere they tend to start messing up, I’m hoping it’s just a little bit of a glitch because I’ve definitely managed to have both rigs working in the same project before. I think I know how I would tackle the turn, however it’s just getting my rigs to work properly!

#ax3002practicalresearch

[simikaurblog]

Visual scrapbook - mediums, techniques, styles

Practical skills and mediums: screen printing, risograph, painting, drawing, letterpress. The risograph and letterpress is something that I am not familiar with so if I was use this in my work I need to attend a workshop. I feel that the texture and appearance will work well with my message and audience. 

Practical skills and techniques: line drawing, motion video, animation, colour, hand rendered and digital techniques, scanning, softwares like Indesign and After effects. Experimental and practicality skills - typefaces, lettering, kerning, type, space, size etc. 

Practical skills and styles: glitch, distortion, rule breaking, contemporary art, digital art, abstract, patterns, collage, South American, Mexican, mix media, image and text

Subjects: mental health, stigma, young people, opinions, design and concepts, visual communication, book binding, zine, awareness, social issue, speaking up, video

Improve and develop: I want to improve my skills in Indesign and feel much more confident when I use the software. I want to develop in using new techniques and just exploring this through my brief.

Hendrik Werkman - is an experimental Dutch artist, typographer and printer. The artist set up a clandestine printing house during the Nazi occupation and this period of time influenced the work he created. The techniques used are seen by contemporary letterpress printers today. For example, masking type, printing pictures, printing the back of wood types etc.  

The whole design turns into a image. Werkman uses ink as if it was paint. I really like how this creates texture within the design, especially when the ink goes lighter. It is playful, bold, experimental and can be used to voice out the voices of mental health. I added this example because I like the movement in the design; it navigates you around the page creating tension and excitement. 

Linking this back to my work I can use typography to create tension and communicate how mental health can feel when there is a build of feelings. 

Ruben Montero - is an Spanish graphic designer who has created these glitchy posters. The technique the designer used was to scanning them and the digitally manipulating it. I really like how these distorted photocopies suggest a story to me or a idea. The monochrome colour scheme means that there is no distraction and the viewer can focus on the type. By stretching, moving, blurring and adding ripple across the pages it is fascinating and a style that never gets boring. 

Linking this back to my work I want to revisit the technique of scanning type and just to see what I can create. 

Craig Ward - I have looked at the work of Craig Ward in the mini tasks that was given to me. I used his inspiration of NYC bacteria typography to create type that was distorted. Here is an another example of this work ‘error’. 

Other - this is another piece of worked I found on Behance. This was created using hand rendered techniques.  

Nevan Doyle - is an designer who creates a lot of digital art. Doyle pays attention to detail and efficiency and create pieces of work that are bold, powerful and different. I really like this approach from the designer who is constantly challenging himself by pushing skill further. This is similar to my design approach as I am always experimenting and coming up with something that I do not expect. 

Ran Park - is an designer who has a wide perspective that allows her to balance concept with aesthetics. I believe this is very important to balance as work needs meaning and a purpose otherwise it can be useless to us. The designers relies on her life experience and observations of the world to create fresh, original work. 

In this piece of work, the designer explores the chaos of Konglish.

Konglish is Korean and English words that derived from the English language, but the meaning or pronunciation has been altered.

The artist is lost In konglish and has experience this around her.

This zine shows the words that are pronounced the same alongside the Korean and English letterforms. I like how the layouts are chaotic and abstract, however the publication is aimed at foreign people. I feel that the artist needs to create another publication aimed for non foreigners.

Cristiana Couceiro - is an illustrator and graphic designer. The designer focuses her work on making collages using newspaper, tiles, vintage photos and pieces of paper in a simplistic way and retro way. The style of this motivates me to add shape, line and images together as another way of communication. 

Neal C Gallagher - is an art director and designer. I like how this designer brings together elements of design by exploring printed matter, prints, drawings, paintings, and images.  I decided to put this into the scrapbook because I feel that I need some visual references that are express the issues and messages. 

Éliot B.Lafrenière - this can be achieved digitally, paint, screen printing and inks. 

Other - I like the black and white cut ups because it creates contrast and will attract my target audience. 

Isabel Reitemeyer - is well known for the collages she makes. I like how there isn’t a lot going on. I feel that if I found images that relate to my topic I can then make it my own by adding shapes, movement and colour. The artist states: ‘’Less is (almost) always more’’. The reason why Reitemeyer keeps her work simple is because using less material tells you something or create a mood. 

Leslie David - is a French designer, illustrator and art director. Her work focuses on visual thinking and design in the fields - fashion, beauty, art, music and culture.  I added Leslie David to my scrapbook because this reminds me of the work I have created and used in the magazine. Looking at this for inspiration I want to add depth and mix materials together to make my digital art visually stronger. 

MY WORK

Other - inspiration of bright colours. This effect could be created by using paint, inks and using a screen print, brushes or squeegee. 

Zine ideas Risograph machine can be used to create some graphical outcomes. 

Tractorbeam - is a studio that creates designs that powerful. Their mottos is to get brands to connect, inspire, and drive real results.

Phoebe Lovatt - the working woman’s handbook that offers advice by addressing the importance of maintaining physical and mental health.

This book is very handy to look at to see what is currently on the market. It seems to be targeted at women and who are in there 20-30s. 

I like the idea behind it, but wish there was more visual references. This is how I am going to make my zine different. 

Swirl project put together by Andy Walton ( mental health nurse), website, book and logo designed by Studio Moross and illustrations created by Nate Kitch - I think the masthead for this project is smart. Swirl is a good word to describe mental health. The imagery reflects what the project is all about and offers some simple tips to stop overthinking. 

Aims - Creating a ‘’offline project’’ that is explored through a booklet. It’s aims is to practise positive ways of managing worry. It is a guide that is accessible, straightforward, but gives people comfort and power. This is similar to my project as I wanted to create a relaxed situation where my user can look through the book in their own time. My idea differs from this as my aim is to stop the stigma of mental health and to get people to understand how many young people. 

Other - what if I can use actual texture to create movement? 

Outcomes - the parameters of my project tell me that I won’t really have time to print and put my outcome together to present. If there was more time for my project, I would create several mini booklets, leaflets that share information about mental health; like a kit. 

I started to look at what other materials I could print onto - plastic, tracing paper, different types of textured paper etc. 

I found a website where you can order sheets of materials.

Here is the free samples I received:

https://www.studiomoross.com/projects/dj-tour-visuals-2016/ - visual video that I really like. I think that this looks cool and I love to learn more about this technique and apply it to graphic design.

#studio moross #Hendrik Werkman #dutch #dutch design #graphic design #visual art #makeup #glitter #digital art #inspo #ruben montero #plastic #pink #green #zine #book #zine book #postivechange #body postive #Typography #contemporary #postive mental attitude #polybags #swirl #prints #phoebe lovatt #tractorbeam #leslie david #artist #designers