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halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months

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How To Adapt To Fire (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, mentions of death, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, pining, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, etc.

A/N: This is based off of US Firemen just because that's what I'm most familiar with!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There was an arsonist in the city, and you were going to catch them.

Getting out of your car, you slap the door closed behind you and rush out, heels clicking over the concrete as the roaring flames continue violently—orange and red going high into the air, all centered around an abandoned warehouse building. Through the darkness of night, everything was lit up like hell.

Your satchel hits against your thigh one fast step at a time, arms pumping as your eyes find the flashing lights beyond the glare, squinting.

“MacTavish!” You shout, jogging to the line of yellow tape and slipping under it through a small crowd of locals who call to you sharply. Voices going in one ear and out the other, you only search for that familiar helmeted head and the Scottish accent that accompanies it.

“What is she doing?”

“How come she gets to go closer!?”

“Stop that woman!”

Your white blouse does little to push back the gusts of molten heat on the roaring airwaves, and neither do your dress pants. You push on with stubborn righteousness, even as the mulling firefighters groan under their breaths when they catch sight of you, all pausing in their various duties and panic of grabbing the hoses and getting the water going.

The iconic red trucks sit stationary, but the man beside one of the three vehicles has his head nearly snapped off when he darts it over to you in a fast instant.

“MacTavish!” You call out again, locking onto wide blue eyes that blink rapidly at your appearance.

An under-the-breath curse is leveled out, heard in between shouts and the spray of water, droplets hitting your hard face.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus. Not again.” Heavy boots jog over, tan and yellow uniform loose beside the places where the straps of his gear attach various items and tools to his body. “What in the hell are you doin’ here, Pencils?”

“My job,” you call stiffly, your finger going out to tap at the small plastic card attached to your blouse.

‘PRESS PASS’

“So be a good informant and tell me how much damage this is going to cause,” your hand is already inside of your satchel, flicking on a hand-held recorder, as your eyes scan about. “The fire was bigger here,” you begin without wasting any time, and the firefighter in front of you sighs in exasperation, clenching his jaw. “Was it because this place was abandoned unlike the last four scenes, or because there was a different accelerant used.”

“I’ve told you, Hen,” MacTavish’s hand moves out in appeasement gestures, glancing at the fire and the rest of the teams that rush to get the rest of the hoses going. “Ya can’t be here when the fucking fire is still ongoing. Do you want to get burnt to a damn crisp?”

“I need answers,” you level, gaze darting back to stare into cerulean blues.

John MacTavish, who everyone just calls Johnny or Soap, for some reason, had been a familiar face to you for upwards of two months. In that time, there had been an alarming amount of suspected arson cases—twelve, counting this one. There was an unprecedented spark-up, most taking place in older neighborhoods and abandoned buildings barring the previous four, of which two people had been seriously injured, and three had died.

But now, it was back to out-of-the-way properties, and you wanted to know why. You needed to.

Such an escalation just to suddenly drop back down to no casualties? It didn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for your career as a journalist, then it was for your morbid curiosity of which Johnny was intently familiar with.

The Scot clenches his jaw, dark eyebrows under his helmet stuck into a line. Around him, the others were getting the blaze under control the best they could—there was no need to go inside to search for anyone and all that had to be done was keep the fire from spreading. So, he had no trouble trying to get you to see sense yet again.

“Do you ever give it a rest,” he asks gruffly, accent thick. “Christ, I’ll be gray before you learn to stop sticking your hands where they don’t belong.”

“You’re not my mother, MacTavish,” you speak, lowering the recorder. “Do you have anything for me?”

Johnny moves up a hand and runs it over his face, groaning. A smirk flickers to your lips.

“You’re worse than a fly,” he breathes, unimpressed eyes opening to stick to you. “I can’t say much right now, most of it is left for forensics. Just from the blaze alone,” he glances over, taking it in. “I’d make a guess that an accelerant was used. Especially with how fast it popped up and the intensity of it. I’d have to get the dogs down here for a sniff, but it’s likely.”

“Do you think it’s—”

“Connected?” Johnny interrupts, lips twitching at the annotated gimmer in your eye. “Aye. This was man-made. There was nothing here that could start a blaze like this.”

You click the recorder’s button and move back with a sigh.

“Lovely.”

The Scot raises a slow brow, looking you up and down, confused. “That’s it?”

“It’s all you can give me right now,” you mutter, sliding a look at him as your eyes squint at the rabid flames. Pieces of screeching metal fall into a heap, a loud boom of spreading smoke and lifeless coughing of material in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you murmur to yourself. “This had to be one of the biggest ones so far.”

It was getting held back from the surrounding buildings—slowly but surely in the morning, the entire place would be a smoldering pile of ash and metal, only more questions left behind.

Johnny sets his hands on the collar of his gear, sighing. “Won’t be the deadliest, though, will it? I’m just glad there won’t be bodies to drag out.”

You send a side-eye his way, feet shuffling. “That, I can agree with. But the pattern doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Well, sorry, Hen, but you’ll catch me a bit more concerned about the potential next targets than the pattern.” He grunts, rolling his shoulders. “We need to catch this prick. Soon. Resources are stretched thin.”

“It’s like the guy completely switched his M.O.,” you ignore him, eyes narrowing. “Abandoned buildings, then to taking people's lives, then right back to where he started? That doesn’t happen overnight.”

Johnny grunts. “‘Cept here.”

You sigh, tapping your fingers against your bag. The man at your side looks over, shrugging as he takes in the firmness of your expression—the same that he usually wears to any scene he gets called to. Determination.

“I’ll get the report to you soon as I get it,” Johnny breathes, tilting his head. “Figured with all of your connections, you’ll have a better chance at piecing it all together.”

“Thank you,” you nod. The man hums.

“Now, get the hell out of here, yeah? Makin’ me nervous. Tape’s there for a reason Dearie.”

Scoffing, you toss up a hand and shake your head. “I live to make people nervous, MacTavish. You don’t help bust criminals and not make people nervous.”

You begin backing back up, studying the land one more time. Johnny’s lips are thin, and he shifts his legs to stare after you.

“Just be careful,” he calls, fingers tightening at his collar, strong jaw moving as he fixes it. His heart stutters in its course. “Don’t stick your neck where it doesn’t belong, Hen.”

You wave a hand, and then you’re off again, disappearing into the crowd with flames rising high behind you.

The fireman watches tightly, licking his lips before shouting, “I’m serious!”

—

Your list of enemies was seemingly endless.

Drug busts, criminal enterprises, hitmen—there was no shortage of stories you’d broken and your name being printed into the papers; you weren’t at all unknown to the city or the various police or fire stations. Many described you as a public nuisance, but…you were viewed with a modicum of respect as well—even if it was kept under breath.

Yet, where there was respect, there was also the less savory emotion of contempt from the related individuals of those whom you’d landed into the eyes of the law and behind bars.

Perhaps you’d taken this arsonist for a disorganized fool…but you were about to get a very violent reality shift.

“This is the report?” You ask, Johnny sipping from his coffee cup as you both sit in the park three days later, the bench stiff as your fingers play over the manila folder you’d been passed.

“The public one.” Soap huffs when you slide him a look, his finger pointing at you as he holds his drink. “What? Pencils, I don’t care who you think you are, I’m not about to risk my career for something I can just tell you first-hand.”

You sigh, muttering before your hand pushes open the papers. “Go on, then.”

Johnny smugly smirks, chuckling as his free hand goes up to fix the backward ballcap on his head. Under the tight hold of his athletic shirt, gray sweatpants sharply contract your put-together and professional appearance—like night and day. He still smells of smoke and metal.

“You’re bein’ more snappy than usual. Publisher still on your arse, Bonnie?”

“Telling me I need to drop this goose chase,” you grumble, scoffing, eyes skimming down the printed words ahead of you. “As if.”

“Ah, he’ll come round,” Johnny’s lips flicker, flesh crinkling under that stubble of his. An overgrown mohawk leaks from the sides of his hat. “C’mon, tell me what ya need. I’ve got it all up here,” he goes to tap his head, taking another gulp of his coffee.

The morning air is cold all around you, and people pass pushing strollers or jogging—Saturday just beginning to spread over minds and wake those who’ve slept in. Johnny and you weren’t quite like that.

“Our theory about the accelerant?”

“My theory,” Soap grumbles but nods. “Gasoline. Dogs found traces all over—there was a damn lot.”

You tilt your head, glancing at him. “Fits the profile from the other cases except the ones involving casualties.” Your lips pull into a frown, Johnny’s face going more serious. “Weren’t those all started with matches to the curtains in the living rooms?”

“Aye,” Johnny tips his chin to you. “Couldn’t figure that out until—”

“Until you found the matchbox out in the lawn at one of the crime scenes, plus the busted locks on the front doors. All exactly the same.”

The fireman grunts, lips flickering as his face goes a bit red. “Know my job better than I do.”

You pause, a small heat coming to your cheeks, eyes pausing in their search for new information. “I’m not the one who willingly goes into burning buildings, give yourself more credit.”

Johnny leans closer, chuckling. “Was that a compliment, Pencils?”

“No,” you slide out.

He hums a sound of amusement, moving back as his form slouches into the bench. A bird darts past overhead, chirping. “Goin’ soft on me. ‘Bout time—I've been waiting.”

You roll your eyes heavily, closing the manila folder and shifting it into your satchel.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You face Soap head-on, taking in the deep blue of his eyes and the tease hidden in them. “The station? Home?” Your brow raises. “Animal shelter—I heard they take in strays.”

“Ah,” Johnny flinches, hand raising to his chest as he feigns hurt. “This how you thank your favorite public servant?”

“You’ll live,” you grumble, standing and flattening out your long black coat. “Come on. Seeing as you’re not entirely lost to me, I’m getting breakfast today.”

Johnny’s beaming grin makes your lips pull in a low smile.

“And just like that,” he chuckles, standing up so that his boots hit the ground and his hand falls into his pocket. The empty cup in his hand is tossed into the trash. “I’m a picture-perfect specimen. Not that I wasn’t already, eh?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you breathe, voice exasperated even as your smile breeds along the lines of your face.

The both of you take off side by side, legs mirroring the others’ pace one slow movement at a time. Throughout your meetings for information, Johnny and yourself have grown close to one another—Violet’s Dinner one of the many places that was the unfortunate hub for your intel swapping. However, it was only unfortunate for the patrons, not you.

Soap gave what he knows about the fires and the ways they were started, and you gave over potential next targets based on whatever you can piece together from your police informants as well as others.

You hum as you both walk the trail, slowly weaving away from the bench and down to the gated entrance of the park, slipping past the black iron as John holds it open for you.

“Besides the ol’ fire-freak, then,” Johnny begins, smiling over at you as he itches at his neck, large arm reaching up and flexing. “Any other big breaks?”

Head turning his way, you speak easily. “In which article—the multi-generational money laundering bust at Warren’s Electrical or the murders near Fifth Ave? Or even the drug smuggling near the docks?”

Blue eyes blink. “...Eh…any of ‘em?”

You snort, turning back to the sidewalk and shrugging.

“You asked.” You slyly begin, before getting into the mental paper that you still had to type and send into editing. “Roy Laurence committed the murders near Fifth Avenue—my informant with the SWAT team says he was arrested and booked within an hour of the green light. DNA and fingerprints found at the scene of the last victim.” You raise a hand. “Now, I just have to try and get a spot in the courtroom when a trial date is released.”

“Well,” Johnny breathes, sending you a veiled look after a moment. “Don’t mean to brag, Pencils, but I got to help an old lady cross the street yesterday.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as Soap chuckles. The sidewalk continues, men and women passing at their slow paces as cars zip past; the fireman taking the chivalrous stance of the person beside the street unconsciously.

“And I’m sure she was very pleased, MacTavish,” you push out, shifting closer to him as an individual passes by, bumping your arm into his.

“Aye, she was,” the man huffs proudly, puffing his chest. “Called me a handsome bloke and kissed my cheek. Blushed a bit.”

“Playboy,” you tease, eyes narrowed over at him. “Cheating on the mutts back at the station?”

Johnny gasps, putting on a serious face. “Don’t you call Mr. Spots a mutt, Dearie—that’s too far.”

“Christ,” you breathe, and an arm settles over your shoulders, shaking you a bit and squeezing your flesh before chuckles follow.

Trying not to sink into the feeling of heat and the promise of fire, you live in this moment of nearly something. There was the close sensation of borderline affection—just brushing the sense of care and…pining.

You knew the Scot was interested in you, or, at the very least, knew he had some modicum of attraction to you. Hell, the way he’d flirted with you when you’d propositioned him to be your link to the fire department was nearly laughable even today. All smirks and glinting eyes.

John was funny, no one was denying it.

There was that firm push and pull between the two of you, a string attached to your wrists that wouldn’t snap—that had seemingly only grown stronger over the months of mystery. But the arsonist took precedence.

Play can only come after work, and you were the picture of professionalism. Or maybe just stubbornness.

“The regular?” Johnny asks, letting you go as he pushes open the front door of Violet’s with his shoulder, keeping it there as you move inside and nod.

“Sure. Same seats?”

The fireman smirks. “Always.”

You smile, walking off to the corner booth as John goes up to the front, waving down the familiar face of the waitress to let her know that the both of you are here. The two exchange pleasantries as you sigh and lean back into the red-cushioned seats, letting your satchel drop near your feet. Sending a text to your editor, you tell him that you’ll have an article written up about one of your ongoing fixations by Monday.

Johnny’s broad shadow soon graces you once more, carrying a plate of fresh bread with butter on it.

“Lady’s a fuckin’ lifesaver,” he breathes. “Gave us free bread today.”

Your eyes dart over to Tammy, the waitress, who winks at you before disappearing to help another customer. Hiding the twitch of your lips, you raise a brow at John.

“Don’t you usually get pancakes, too? Your stomach will explode,” you huff.

“Ah,” his face scrunches in dismissal. “There’s always room for fresh bread.”

His large fingers are already around the body of a knife, slathering gooey butter on a steaming piece of the carb, chomping down and swallowing before he speaks—reaching for another.

“So, spill it on me.”

Your fingers reach out, grasping some bread and bringing it to your lips. You chew, swallow, and ease out, “I think there are two arsonists.”

Johnny pauses, wide eyes stuck on you as he stops his hand from bringing up the next piece of food. He blinks, his face tightens as he wonders over the information that you have, and then the groans out a long, “Fucking hell… one who’s doing it for kicks, the other who’s settling scores.”

“Precisely,” you shrug. “It explains the complete break in character, and we have enough fires to show that not only is the way the flames started different, but for different reasons as well. One wants to kill, the other can’t control it. Impulse.”

“Makes sense,” Johnny grumbles, amused mood for the moment dropping to one of flashing anger. He taps his knuckles slowly on the table, thinking. “You tell the police this theory?”

“Nah,” you shake your head as your legs shift along the seat. “You know how the chief gets about me—I need to do some of my own leg-work. Get more evidence.”

The Fireman is already shaking his head with a chuckle that has no ounce of tease or jest in it. “Nah ah, no fuckin’ way am I letting you get involved with two arsonists—certainly not one that kills people, Hen.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking permission,” you smirk as your breakfast plates are brought over. Johnny’s is full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and you, your regular. You thank Tammy with a nod and take a sip of your small drink. “There has to be a connection between the victims. I’ve written about them before, my notes have the answers, I’m sure. I need to focus on one at a time—”

“Bonnie—”

“A possible Revenge-Motivated Arsonist is a far bigger threat than one that only has an impulse to light fires and not harm others. I’ll leave the ladder to you—”

A hand grabs at your own, grasping it firmly. Head snapping up to the square jaw ahead of you, which is tight, the stubble moving the scar along his chin one frown line at a time, you pause your quick rant. Face steadily heating as callouses run along your flesh like un-cut granite, your heart stutters.

“You’ll do nothing without me.” Johnny’s expression leaves no room for discussion.

Mouth slightly parted, your eyelids blink before a squeeze is leveled out on your hand, and the Fireman shifts back. Your eyes follow, stuck on how his shirt hugs his large biceps and the gentleness of how he held you—how he always held you.

Focus.

“You’re not getting dragged into this,” you chuckle, tilting your head seriously. “It could cost you your job.”

Johnny shrugs. “Only if I’m caught. If you're half as stubborn, as I already know you to be, Pencils,” he sighs, low smile coming to his lips. “Then I know you’ll be needing my level head.” Cobalt eyes twinkle.

You stare at him, blinking. Ignoring that skip in your pulse. As hard as you would like to try, you can’t say no to that face of his—that open expectation and firm choice.

“As level as a steep decline,” your grumble meets Soap’s ears, and the man’s face twists with an ingrained amusement that breeds the closer you are to him. It was easy to bounce jokes with you—like a pair of birds, squawking and puffing feathers, only stopping at strange intervals to preen one another before the loud chatter started anew.

“And stop it with the dumb nickname already,” you glare. “It happened once.”

John drags his plate closer, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite out of it. “It isn’t every day you see a bonnie Hen with seven pencils in her breast pocket, is it? Hell of a first meeting with that serious face of yours and the sight of fabric practically ripping open.”

“I was in a rush,” your face burns, jaw rotating. “At least I was prepared, MacTavish.”

“Well, who’s sayin’ I wasn’t prepared?”

“Me!” Your fingers grab at your fork, pointing it at him. “You were practically covered head-to-toe in ashes!”

Red cheeks on his part, but always that adorning sheen to his expression.

“I was just in from a damn fire!”

Breakfast went as it usually did—good food and better company—but there was a deeper level to it now; a sharp edge of purpose. By the time the both of you were done, you’d already made up your mind to make it back to your apartment and gather the intel that you had. Find a starting point.

But, as mysteries like these always go, the good times came to a rapid cliff-drop. Johnny was muttering about his work schedule back on the sidewalk when he got the call.

Phone to ear, you’d seen his face tighten—feet going completely still as you have to halt and look back at him, confused. A breeze goes by on the air, and your nose twitches to a sharp tang that leaves your fingers twitching.

“What do you mean, ‘fire on third street?’” Your body locks up, and Johnny’s face becomes devoid of pigment, watching yours closely. It was a strange emotion on his face; a hard and hesitant thing all at once. He was staring, brows pulled in as your lungs seemingly went to concrete inside of your ribs.

Third street? Fire?

Soap’s voice goes even lower. Spine even more straight. “...Stillview apartments?”

You’re already running before you can understand the severity of the revelation—dashing as Johnny yells after you to stop.

That was your apartment building.

“Dearie!” The fireman shouts, his boots pounding after, but you had a head start, shoving through the crowds, dodging strollers and trash cans—bags and thrown curses. “Fucking hell, stop!”

Your form darts fast, heart hammering. Already your mind is running through every possibility and explanation. How could this be happening? Why? Has one of the arsonists found you out? But even then, it could only be the one intent on murder—countless others lived in your building; this was more than intent…it was a massacre.

Fires don’t just spark at a time like this to not be called connected.

Even over the air, you could hear sirens above Johnny’s loud pleas to slow down, moving as well as he could through the rush of people.

He’s still on the phone, barking questions and the will of his legs to take him in the direction of the department building. But you. The back of your head in his black-sided vision.

The man knows that if he doesn’t catch you, you’ll run straight into that blaze not only for the principal but your evidence. Your cork boards and their red strings—your pictures and printed articles. Johnny knew you had them, he wasn’t an idiot.

You were too smart for your own good.

He was nearly there—just a few more steps and he could grab the back of your jacket like some stray cat, pull you back until you were in his arms. A fireman, yes, but he’d never get used to the inferno that was you; you consumed him utterly. It was an instant feeling for him, and even with the initial flirting, the immediate latching of his attention held fast. A bird to a wire. Hopeless, he was. Johnny was afraid at how much you trapped him in your ways—your looks and your…you-ness.

And you were only making him more afraid at this very instant.

Soap was the only person ever supposed to be walking into fire.

“Hen!” The fireman barks, sharp and visceral. But you only take the next corner faster, satchel slapping against your thigh.

“No,” you pant, legs dashing. “No, no, no. I left everything I need for this case in my filing cabinet!”

This is what you get for trying to be organized for once.

You smell the smoke before you see it, and feel the heavy hand on your coat collar not a moment after you lock on it.

“MacTavish!” Your angered voice moves out, but it’s all strangled away in a fast moment of the screaming of sirens and the visible fire from your tall apartment building strikes you. Watching blankly, your face falls as strong arms reel you back into a chest.

“Fuck,” Johnny growls, eyes wide as he looks on, phone clenched tightly in one hand. His jaw writhes with tension, vision darting from one fire truck to another and the men available to help. People were doing a myriad of things—screaming, running, watching—but through it all, there was the presence of fear coupled with a static anticipation.

Panting heavily, you watch your life’s work go up in flames, and feel the tight arms of your informant keep you close.

You learn that if you don’t adapt to this fire sooner or later, it’s going to consume you. And still, you can’t understand if you’re talking about Johnny, who murmurs quick words of comfort into your ear, or the case that just locked you in with chains of commitment and rage.

The real work had just begun as ashes fell like snow to the street; the spray of the firetruck’s water flew with sure aim. Your face hardens, and you feel that worried grip tighten, bringing you into a ramshackle hug.

You have an arsonist to catch, and not a single person would stop you now.

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boss-poss · 5 months

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See, Lethal Company's real genius is that it somehow marries two normally opposed genres, those being horror and comedy together into something greater. Mechanically it's a multiplayer looter extraction survival type game. It's designed to create stressful and scary situations by forcing you to speedrun mini randomized dungeons while monsters hunt your character to meet a certain quota (our asses are not making quota). That's not the clever part though, no, that's giving the players the ability to fuck themselves over and the hilarity that comes from it.

Anything you say into your mic is said in the game world and can be heard by certain monsters. Many items, similarly, can be used to make noise and you can bet there is little impulse control when a player finds an air horn or gets a walkie talkie. The sound of a distant honk somewhere out of nowhere is not something most players are prepared for while in a pitch black maze. Sound in this game has a doppler effect, which makes it harder to hear the further away the source is, allowing screams to fade into nothing and unintelligible yelling heard for a second before vanishing. You must rely on your senses but those are, by design, limited and regularly tricked.

Because level layouts, monster locations, and item spawns are all random, it's insanely easy to get lost or lose track of thigs, especially in the dark and especially when panicking. Seeing a bracken for the first time will almost certainly send a player running in the opposite direction and get lost, if they even see it all. No one is prepared to have a hand wrap around their face and snap their neck in an instant. It's utterly shocking and will leave you gasping in surprise to first time you experience it.

Certain weather patterns make levels harder, some even nearly impossible (looking at you eclipse), and sometimes your options are avoiding deadly lightning or not being able to see due to fog. High level moons have excessively valuable loot but also feature the worst foes and cost a fee to access, forcing a compromise between greed, ability, and resources.

Dying, likewise incurs a penalties. Your team is fined for dying and not bringing the bodies back but if you all die, all your collected loot goes poof. Gone. A team wipe can and will effectively end the run in an instant if you do something stupid like stick around when you hear "pop goes the weasel" or try to pick up that funny looking roomba. You can almost feel the pressure weighing down on your shoulders when you realize you're the last one left and you need to get back to the ship or miss the quota.

The monsters likewise, are engines of terror that are comically effective killing machines with no cohesive theme to help anticipate them. The already mentioned bracken is one of the scariest things I've seen in a game, and those technically aren't even that bad. They're completely manageable if you keep your head on a swivel and pay attention to your surroundings. Coilheads are these mannequins with bobble heads that will path to and kill you in a microsecond the moment you aren't looking at them, weeping angel style. There's a thing called the ghost girl that I have yet to see but is apparently one of the most terrifying critters in the menagerie. Forest giants. If you know, you know.

All these little mechanics, these choices that are made by and for the player, create a maelstrom of unpredictable chaos that, like a buxom blond transforming into an orgasming pooltoy, turns what would be strictly serious horror into a unique form of dark comedy that layers over it like jelly on peanut butter. You are scared, you are on edge, and it only gets worse when you know what these things are capable of, but the sheer hopelessness is something you all have in common. It's funny how little hope you have. You will die. A monster will wipe your team. There will eventually come a quota you can't beat. You were doomed from the start.

So why not get silly with it? Why not try to fight that bracken with shovel? Fuck him. Why not just run past a turret and try to nab that fat jar of pickles? Why not wander off from the group? You're just as likely to come back with arms loaded and the quota met as you are likely to not come back at all. You're already dead, so take the gamble, do stupid shit, repeat this hell until you can meet its horrors with grim determination and put in the effort to afford that goddamn boombox. Dance. Just press 1 and dance the fear away.

You are all united in your mortality and duty, fragile sacks of flesh working to break even at the behest of perhaps the greatest horror of all: The company you work for. You are so preposterously fucked beyond all belief from every angle there really isn't enough adjectives to describe it. And that's comedy baby, when things are so bad all you can do is laugh.

#lethal company #indie games #legit one of the best games I've played all year and only $10 #THIS is what games should be #goofing off with the lads while surrounded by the horrors

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utilitycaster · 4 months

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How would the wizards win, they are knocked out easily and fragile as fuck???

Hi anon,

In the interest of verisimilitude I am running this combat play by play. Assumptions include:

Equipment is that of their last appearance (Echoes of the Solstice for the PCs but before Caleb gives his stone to Luc, and 2x141 for Essek) with the notable exception that no one has any potions

All magical items with charges are fully charged

The wizards have all necessary components for their spells

Caleb’s philosopher’s stone is on him and is set to constitution save proficiency, which is how Caleb usually has it set.

Caleb will not access spells that we have not seen him use previously

Essek gets the high level dunamancy spells though bc we left with him not accessing 9th levels and it seems reasonable he’d have these learned.

Characters are all level 20

The poll this is based on does not explicitly say to the death, so I am counting “at least one of the wizards survives and put Yasha somewhere she is not going to bother them” as a win condition for them.

For the purposes of this exercise I am going to make Essek a chronurgist but swap out the level 2 abilities (Chronal Shift and Temporal Awareness) for Adjust Density since we know he has the latter but “time is his speciality” as I don’t have his actual stat block.

Essek’s CON, WIS, CHA, and STR are unknown as are his HP. I have rolled for them, added his CHA bonus as a drow, and taken an ASI to one other stat. I have also just used the wizard default of 4 HP per level + con bonuses. I rolled (4d6 drop lowest): 16, 8, 14, and 11, which seems like a reasonable spread. I’m giving him 16 CHA (14+2 racial bonus), 16 CON, 8 STR, and 13 (11+2) WIS, which seems reasonable to me. His HP is therefore 6+4*19+3*20=142.

They all start at the corners of a square with sides 30 feet, as there is no 2D configuration of four equidistant points. Same teams are at diagonals from each other (ie, going clockwise, it goes Beau, Caleb, Yasha, Essek.)

In order to stave off any whining: if both wizards roll higher on the dice for initiative than both sentinel babes I will reroll. After that the dice shall tell their story.

Caleb is not allowed to cast Wish to simply win the fight even though that is the obvious answer and not prohibited per the rules of the poll because while that proves my point, actually running through the combat and demonstrating the general case of “wizards beat melee at L20 as a rule” is more fun for me.

Final and most important rule: I am a human person running through combat for four people. Will this be perfectly optimal in every way? No. If there is something egregiously wrong then mention it but if you simply had a different strategy then well, write it out yourself.

Combat below the jump:

Initiative: Caleb rolled 7 (modified to 9), Essek rolled 16 (modified to 19), Yasha rolled 15 (modified to 18), Beau rolled 3 on the d20 and 6 on the d8 from her boots of the vigilant (total of 14).

Round 1

Essek casts Hold Person on Yasha since he cannot cast it on both at once as they are 42.4 feet from each other. She fails with a natural 1. [L2 spell used - Essek]

Yasha rolls again at the end of her turn, and gets a 12, failing.

Beau runs to Essek and attacks him twice, using a ki point to stunning strike him on her first hit and attempting for all hits after until it succeeds. She rolls an 11 and a 14 to hit on the dice, which will hit. Essek rolls a natural 18 on his first con save, succeeding, but a 9 on his second, which fails, dropping his hold on Yasha. Beau just takes flurry of blows for her bonus action, with advantage, rolling a 17 and a 12 respectively at advantage. Total damage to Essek is 14+11+7+7=39 damage. (2 ki used) She can also extract aspects; he is a normal guy.

Caleb shapechanges into an ancient white dragon. He picks up Essek in a talon (object interaction) and flies 35 feet into the air.[L9 spell used - Caleb; concentration]

Round 2

Essek is stunned

Yasha summons her wings. She makes her Frightful Presence save with a natural 18 and flies almost into melee with Dragon!Caleb but that is her action. She rages as a bonus action.

Beau has no abilities nor items that extend more than 30 feet away. She may as well use Empty Body to become invisible and resistant to all damage though! (6 ki used total, 4 this round). She makes her frightful presence save with a 15 on the dice. Essek is no longer stunned.

Dragon!Caleb can get both Yasha and Beau in a cone of cold, DC 22. Yasha saves with a 17 on the dice and total of 27, Beau rolls a 3 and uses a ki point to reroll, getting a 9+10 which fails. This is a con save, so no evasion. I rolled extremely well (thanks google dice roller thing) and Beau takes 96 cold damage, halved to 48 from Empty Body. Yasha takes 48 cold damage as well, halved due to her saving throw. Caleb rolls a 6 on the d6; this ability recharges. He then flies 80 feet away from Yasha.

Round 3

Essek casts Ravenous Void 30 feet behind Yasha such that he and Caleb are outside of the spell’s 100 foot range. Beau is however also in range, though neither she nor Yasha are within range of the sphere, merely the 100 foot event horizon. [L9 spell used, Essek; concentration].

Yasha must make a strength save, which she makes with a 14 on the die, against Essek’s DC of 20. She moves 25 feet towards Caleb and Essek as she is in difficult terrain (yes, even in the air.) She uses her battle cry ability as a bonus action, granting Beau advantage on attacks and saves.

Beau makes a strength save as well, and makes it with a natural 18. She can activate her maelstrom gloves at this point I suppose, as her action. She also runs from the sphere, along the ground, at half speed (35 feet); she will use step of the wind to dash as a bonus action (70 feet). She is still within the range of the spell this turn.

Caleb can hit Yasha with the cold damage again. She makes her save with a 15 on the dice. I rolled much more poorly this time; she takes 32 damage. His breath weapon does NOT recharge this round as I rolled a 4.

At the end of round 3: Caleb has 333 HP as a dragon and has used one 9th level spell on which he is concentrating. Essek has 103 HP as himself and has used one 2nd level spell and one 9th level spell, the latter on which he is concentrating. Beau has 144 HP and is invisible; she has used 8 of her 20 ki points. Yasha has 148 HP and is currently raging.

Round 4

Essek casts lightning bolt on Yasha at 5th level. She fails her dex save (16+3 = 19, his DC is 20), taking 10d6 lightning damage, or 26 points per my roll. (Yasha is at 122 HP).

Yasha makes a strength save at advantage against Ravenous Void, just making it with a 10, but Essek uses Convergent future to make her fail. Yasha is pulled into the Ravenous Void; Essek takes one level of exhaustion. Yasha takes 5d10 force damage (another 26 points) and is restrained. (Yasha is at 94 HP).

Beau rolls a 15, succeeding with a 21. She successfully runs out of the range of ravening void and stays there. HOWEVER she is now within Dragon!Caleb’s blindsight radius.

Caleb gets directly above Beau and attacks her with his multiattack. He rolls a 9, 17, and 15 on the dice and gets +14 on all three attacks, dealing 2d10+8, 2d8, 2d8+8, and 2d6+8 damage total, all of which will be halved. That added up was a 72 total, halved to 36 for Beau who is now at 108 HP. He rolls a 5 on the d6, recharging his breath weapon. All attacks are made at minimum 10 foot reach, putting him outside the range of Sentinel; he returns to 40 feet above Beau.

Round 5

Yasha is out of range, so, upon realizing what’s going on, Essek casts See Invisibility on himself and can now see Beau, but that is his action.

Yasha takes another 34 damage from the Ravenous Void and makes a strength save at advantage; she makes it and is no longer restrained. She can get 15 feet out of the sphere. (Yasha is at 60 HP)

Beau can I guess run 70 feet away from the wizards.

Caleb uses his breath weapon again on Beau. She rolls a 5 on the dice, which is a failure on the con save. She takes 39 (79 halved) damage. Beau is now at 69 HP (nice). The breath weapon does not recharge this round.

Round 6

Essek casts Gravity Sinkhole where Beau is. She rolls a 4 on the dice and fails her Con save, taking the full 5d10 force damage (27) which isn’t halved by Empty Body. Beau is now at 42 HP.

Yasha succeeds on her saving throw and is now 40 feet out of the sphere, 50 from the center. She needs to make her next two rounds of saves to get out of the range of the spell, but takes no damage this round. She heals herself up 20 points, to 80, as her action.

Beau runs another 70 feet away.

Caleb goes after Beau, who I assume is running at a tangent to the radius of Ravenous Void, and dashes, catching up but is not able to attack.

Round 7

Essek uses momentary stasis on Beau. She rolls a 9 on her Con save, failing with a total of 19; she is incapacitated and has a speed of zero.

Yasha rolls a 3 and a 4 on her next saving throw, failing her strength save, and is pulled back into the center of the sphere, taking 5d10 (33) damage. Yasha is at 47 HP.

Beau is incapacitated.

Caleb makes his multiattack, dealing 57 total, halved to 28. Beau is now at 14 HP. Caleb’s breath weapon does not return.

Round 8

Essek casts gravity sinkhole again at Beau. She rolls a 19, making her con save, but still takes 5d10 halved. I rolled a 28, halved to 14, precisely knocking her unconscious.

Yasha takes 25 force damage from the center of the sphere and makes her save, moving out from the center of the sphere. Yasha is at 22 HP.

Beau rolls a 2 on her first death save. This however does not matter, because...

Caleb lands and attacks Beau, taking her death saves and killing her. His breath weapon does not return.

Round 9

Essek hangs out in Caleb’s talons, chilling.

Yasha makes her strength save and moves out from the center of the sphere. She is again 50 feet from the center.

Caleb flies to the edge of the radius of Essek’s spell and lands.

Round 10

Essek gets out of Caleb’s talons and stands but is otherwise still chilling.

Yasha makes her strength save and dashes, reaching the wizards but is not able to attack them. She is no longer raging, having taken no damage nor attacked in a round, so she rages again.

Caleb drops Shapechange and casts Disintegrate. Yasha rolls an 11, for a dex save of 14, failing. She is reduced to 0 HP by Disintegrate, which turns her into dust and kills her because she is still dust even though she is raging.

Conclusion: I did to be fair roll like absolute shit for Beau but it was ultimately a game of dragon-and-monk anyway; once they're in the air and she's not and Yasha's unable to come to her aid, she's fucked. The second Beau fails to stunning strike one of the wizards, and Caleb gets a +9 assuming he has all his favorite magic rocks around him against Beau's 18 DC, so this is not out of the question, they can and will either turn into a dragon with a +14 to con saves and also who can fly, or cast "gravity hates you personally" at 9th level.

I would also note that Yasha's 101 damage in one hit in Echoes of the Solstice relies on several buffs from - you guessed it - magic users, as well as a crit. (fun fact! I rolled zero nat 20s during this, which is kind of weird although also I was mostly only rolling saves). Neither she nor Beau can one-shot one of the wizards on their own - even if they're teaming up only on one of them it's going to take 2-3 rounds, and meanwhile the other has, again, cast "fuck you" at 9th level in the meantime.

#answered #Anonymous #long post #cr tag

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jamsandsuch · 8 months

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advice for first year uni students from a uni senior

the roommate(s) will always be more important than the room

+ for roommates, SET. CLEANING. EXPECTATIONS. EARLY. don't wait until you're uncomfortable with how much mess is in the kitchen for you to start thinking if you should bring it up or not. set standards and make them clear.

put your key on a lanyard and hang it from your doorknob when you’re at home so you don’t forget it on the way out

if your dorm has a shared laundry room, set your timer for when your laundry finishes ~5 mins early to give you time to walk from your room to the laundry - especially during weekends/evenings/finals people wont have the patience to wait for you - even if your load just finished

If you have noodle arms like me, buy yourself one of those collapsible grocery carts you drag behind you like a luggage - best purchase i've ever made

Or if you're lazy, order online - but order on a free day because even if you schedule a time they're always gonna come stupid early and you dont want any frozen items to get spoiled or have your groceries stolen

DONT BUY ANY TEXTBOOKS/MATERIALS UNTIL THE FIRST WEEK/CLASSES ARE OVER. sometimes you’ll have early access to the booklist or syllabus and go ahead and start buying textbooks, but increasingly often you’ll buy the materials and show up to class just to find your prof has uploaded scanned copies of everything. *save your money*, wait!

BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS - look at your class schedule and walk around campus to find each classroom. you will probably get lost on day 1 and so will many other students so this will save you a lot of walking around bumping into other lost first years

trust me after a few weeks you won’t be waking up for that 8am class. i know you did it 5 days a week in high school, but there’s a reason uni students are allergic to morning classes. know your natural energy/attention levels and take advantage of the freedom to build your schedule around your energy fluctuations

compress/stack your class schedule as much as possible. if you absolutely do need breaks, make them at least 1.5-2 hours long or you probably wont get anything productive done and minimize these long breaks as much as you can so you can just get your day over with sooner

work smarter, not harder - when school starts note each course’s assessment type by quizzes/finals/essays. if i ever have a course thats just essays, i only do lecture notes + write my own annotations about readings rather than taking notes on them which saves time i can dedicate to textbook notetaking for courses with frequent quizzes + finals

if your school has benefits/discounts/insurance - know what it is and USE IT.

most clubs wont be like high school where there are regular meetings you attend. unless youre in the exec team the membership fee you pay/when you sign up for membership it’s just for access to their events when they happen. if you want to be involved in a club in a way thats as involved as high school, look at their social media pages for hiring.

+ as someone who has had to hire before - if you’re nervous, literally just do it. i was in an exec position for our student union services and once only had like 3 applicants to pick from

if you want to be noticed by a professor, sit in the front row. and always answer/ask questions - it doesn’t matter if you said anything of substance or not, they will remember that you contributed

that and also always make the point to say hello and goodbye! eventually (in my experience) if you come early enough and are just waiting for class to start, a conversation will happen - make these regular enough and you could have an important connection!

disclaimer: of course, not all of this might be something that resonates with you/possible for your course or school, so in the words of my cousin - take what resonates

+ anyone else is free to add on!!

#studyblr #studyspo #college life #academia #university student #aesthetic #college student #university #college #study #mine

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

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Febuwhump - Day 26

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x daughter!reader

Prompt: "Help them"

Warnings: language, apocalypse, big angst vibes

A/N: So this one got away from me and didn't end up being a drabble (more like 2K). Whoops!

_________

Your dad hadn’t been in a good mood since you got up. You didn’t exactly blame him. You were going outside the compound for the first time since you’d been born. Well. They took you on occasional hiking trips around the place in school and dad had insisted you be in the Rangers program so you’d probably been outside more than most other eighteen year olds there. But you’d always been close. The high compound walls visible. A few armed guys from security with the group. Never more than a ten minute walk away.

Today though? Today you were starting your job and that meant going outside of the walls, far outside of them.

“You don’t have to do this you know.” You finished tying your work boots and stood up, your dad frowning from the small kitchenette in your shared cabin. “Be a Ranger.”

“You’re the one that put me in that after-school program in the first place,” you said, shrugging into your hooded jacket. You frowned, his face blank. “Nothing to say?”

“I did that so you’d have more survival skills, not join them. You’re too damn smart to risk your neck. We need you to help run this place when the rest of us get too old to. Croats I can handle but other communities? It’s going to be an issue someday. We fucking need someone with a level head to negotiate-”

“You’re a Ranger and on the council so clearly I can do both,” you said, going to the ladder that led to the loft. He sighed, leaving you to climb up and grab your pistol from beside your bed along with your backpack. When you dropped down, he was right beside the ladder. “Dad. Every other kid I graduated with has been working their job for months. My job is being a Ranger and you cannot stop me anymore.”

You shoved your pistol in your thigh holster, slung your bag over your shoulders and took off for the door.

Two hours later you were still fuming. Your dad decided he just had to go on your first run. Sure, it was standard to have more experienced team members out with new Rangers their first few months on the job, but your dad?

“Alright, everyone,” said your team lead for the day, motioning to the group of eight of you when you slipped out of the two vehicles. “I know we’ve picked over this area pretty good in the past but we’re looking for raw materials, things we might have skipped over in the past. Shingles, nails, plumbing equipment. Home maintenance items. Groups of four and we’ll reconvene at the vehicles in an hour. Stay sharp.”

You headed towards the group leader when your dad’s hand caught your arm. You huffed but didn’t want to make a scene in front of your new co-workers. Besides an annoying amount of staring, he let you work and pile items into a cart, making a few trips back to the cars where the team leader was organizing everything.

“Shit, where’d you find tires in a hardware store?” he asked.

“The forklift,” you said, earning an eyebrow raise.

“That is the out of the box thinking that I like,” he said just as you heard a loud crash. You both turned with guns drawn, seeing no less than eight Croats rush into the store. “Fucking hell.”

You both rushed forward, taking out the two stragglers in the back but six made it inside where the others weren’t expecting it. Loud, angry shouting came from in the store as you rushed in, shots firing off.

On the right you saw a large group of Croats and your people, your dad’s shout coming from the far left. You felt the group leader turn to go left with you but you grabbed his arm.

“Help them!” you shouted. “I got this.”

“Do not do anything stupid,” he said, letting you go and breaking off to help the others. You cleared the aisles as fast as you could before you saw your dad on the ground, a Croat on top of him. A loud shot rang out from your weapon and the Croat went limp, your dad panting hard. His eyes flashed wide as he shouted, a great force shoving you to the ground. Snarling in your ear told you it was a Croat on top of you, your gun going flying across the floor. He scrambled to grab it, another Croat rushing around the corner and going for him. He must have fired off a whole clip while you tried to get the damn Croat on your back off.

Finally, you managed to grab your switchblade from your backpocket, swinging wildly and slicing something on the creature. You spun when it faltered, stabbing the knife into it’s side, searing pain rippling through your arm. You stabbed again, this time in the neck, the thing going limp as something grabbed your hood and yanked you backwards.

“Get off!” you screamed, the grip suddenly gone, a hand pressing a finger to your lips. You caught your breath as your dad scanned the area, the shooting dying down.

“Winchesters! You good?” shouted the team leader from the other side of the store. He relaxed briefly.

“We’re in one piece!” he called out. He sighed, grabbing his own gun from the ground before turning around to hand yours back.

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him, his eyes wide. “I know you’re pissed I came in to save you but…”

Your gaze traveled down to where his laid, to the red bite mark on your exposed forearm where it pulsated in pain. Your gaze flickered back up, his head shaking.

“No,” he whispered, still shaking it. “No.”

“S’okay,” you said quietly, strangely calm despite the fact in a few hours you’d be just like one of those things. He just stared and you offered him a smile. “Dad, it’s alright. Just don’t let me turn into a Croat. Please.”

“I can’t…” he trailed off as footsteps approached. He yanked your sleeve down hard over your wound, giving you a stern look. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“Hey,” said the team leader, coming down the main aisle. “You guys hurt?”

“We’re fine,” said your dad, pulling you to your feet.

“Let’s get the gear and get out of here,” he said.

“I’d like to keep one of the cars and Y/N out a bit longer, get her a little more used to the outside world one on one.” Your team leader pursed his lips but nodded.

“Just be back before dark. It’s not always like this Y/N. You did good today,” he said, smiling before he headed back for the others.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, your dad, grabbing your bicep. “Dad-”

“Later.”

After twenty minutes, you were alone with the car, packed full of supplies you had a feeling your dad never intended to bring back to the compound.

“Dad. What are you doing?” you asked. He ignored you, instead pushing up your jacket sleeve and taking his med pack out of his bag. “It’s a damn Croat bite. You can’t patch-”

“You weren’t supposed to die!” he shouted, glaring at you with tears in his eyes. He tore open the pack roughly, dabbing the wound with an alcohol soaked cotton ball before gently wrapping it in gauze.

You slowly took your hand away, squeezing the thrumming flesh with your other hand. He packed up silently, slamming a fist on the hood when he finished.

“You should have left me,” he grit out. “You should have let me die.”

“Ranger or not, I wasn’t going to let you get ripped apart by that thing. I got bit, okay? I got bit. Now we can either spend my last two sane hours fighting or we can spend it together before you get in this fucking car and go back home.”

He was silent, giving the far off treeline a death stare.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” you asked quietly.

“They’d have killed you. It’s protocol.” He slammed his fists again, turning his anger on you. “You know I can’t be changed. You fucking know about Lucifer and what he did to me. I am safe from this bullshit so my whole life can be one long torture fest but you? You-”

“Dad.” You grabbed his hands, the fight leaving him. “Today’s my last day and I don’t want to spend it arguing. Please can we just…I don’t want to die in a fucking hardware store parking lot. Can we just go somewhere? Somewhere nice?”

“Okay. We can do that.”

The car ride was silent, your bite itchy under your skin as he drove. It took nearly thirty minutes but eventually he pulled off the road to drive through some trees, coming to a stop.

“Can you walk?” he asked. You hummed, following out and through some kind of hiking park or something. Certainly not one you’d been to before. It only took ten or so minutes before you came to the top of a trail, a wide expanse looking out at the valley below, full of orange and red leaves.

“Wow,” you said. He guided you to take a seat on the ground, his body nestling in behind yours. “It’s so pretty up here.”

“I always thought I’d take you camping up here one day when you were old enough.” His chin rested on the top of your head, his breathing hard behind you. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You were quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the breeze on your face. “Promise you’ll go back tonight after it happens. Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

But he didn’t answer, only kissed the top of your head. “Daddy, please don’t…”

“I don’t want you to worry about what happens after.” But he refused to make that promise.

“Dad.”

“Just sit with me, baby girl,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “Just let me have one more hour with you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, dad.”

_________

#febuwhump #Day 26 #Dean x daughter!reader #Endverse!Dean #Dean Winchester #SPN #Supernatural

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jadeazora · 5 months

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Joe Merrick got to play some of the upcoming DLC for the Indigo Disk! Here's his impressions video!

But some points from the article:

You start of by entering the Terarium in the Blueberry Academy with Lacey and Cyrano, and she explains what the Terarium projects the passage of time and the sky, and they have a mysterious globe at the top which allows for Terastalisation, but Cyrano can't seem to remember what it is made out of.

Lacey says the Terarium has four different habitats: the Polar, Savannah, Coastal, and Canyon quadrants. They house a variety of Pokémon, different in each area. In the Coastal one you'd find a lot of water Pokémon, and ones like Alolan Exeggutor on the beach, Polar is filled with Ice-types like Alolan Sandshrew & Beartic, the Savannah had ones like Kantonian Tauros, Doduo, and Canyon had ones like Alolan Geodude, Tyrogue and others. He notes that he saw both forms of Exeggutor too.

Area is larger than Kitakami, tho not quite as large as Paldea

There are some rest stops with some students hanging around but the big central one has all the amenities like the Pokemon Center station and TM Machine and all that.

Tera Raid Battle Crystals are found thru-out the area, large amounts of Pokémon and items everywhere. Tera Shards can be found in large batches. He says he picked up about 18 all in one batch. (Something I'm quite happy about, it was a pain grinding for shards.)

Trainers here seem to favor Double Battles. It's mentioned there are some Trainers that are pretty high-levelled like the Kitakami Ogre Clan, packing Lv70 teams carrying items, and using different strategies.

The trial they did in the trailers with your Dragon wasn't too tough, but BB League is another story. Amarys' battle was compared to later levels of the Battle Tower rather than a main-story battle, every Pokémon on her team had a means to counter any possible weakness.

Even if you have a Lv100 team, you may have the advantage, but it does mean less than it did in Pt1. The BB League can be done in any order, and he's curious how later parts of the story will go.

New TMs that are being added in The Indigo Disk include a mix of returning moves such as Expanding Force, Triple Axel, Skitter Smack, Meteor Beam, Breaking Swipe, Scorching Sands, Curse, Coaching, Electro Web and more, previously revealed new moves Upper Hand and Psychic Noise, and previously unknown moves like Supercharged Cell and Hard Press, a Steel-type move which does more damage the higher the target's Hit Points.

Music is very reminiscent of Unova's, with the wild battle theme being a remix of the old wild theme. There's inspiration from other regions too, but he says he can't disclose it right now.

Performance is mentioned as a weaker point, but I think we've come to expect that from SV at this point.

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #the indigo disk #the hidden treasure of area zero #pokemon sv dlc

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rosewaterandivy · 1 year

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2. make plans to break plans

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumass reader

Warnings: no use of y/n - reader goes by Trouble instead, depictions of high school, cursing, dumb group chats & contact names, references to Vine memes, mention of a broken engagement, sad girl hours

A/N: Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance. Here’s 3.1K of Steve and Reader’s ~feelings~; feedback and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

series masterlist

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Then - Fall term, November

The end of the day finds you hunched over your keyboard, furiously typing back a reply to some helicopter parent. You blow out a puff of breath and hit ‘send’ as your door creaks open.

“Hey,” Steve greets pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He sets his hydroflask down on your desk with a clang and leans against a nearby desk. “You ready?”

“Yeah, gimme just a sec,” you say, logging off for the day. Turning back to your desk, you give him a small smile and shove a few things into your backpack. On Tuesdays and Thursdays the two of you worked at Tiger Library, aka extended tutorial sessions in the library. The extra pay was decent and it allowed you both time to keep up with any grading or lesson planning that had gone neglected during the week.

You rearrange a few items on your desk before swiping a stack of essays to hopefully grade. Steve hits the lights after you, while you nudge the door open with your hip, elbow pressing down on the door handle and balance a backpack dangerously close to slipping from your shoulder.

“Gimme,” he tuts, index finger looping around the strap sliding from your arm, “S’okay, I got it.”

You hum in assent, turning to take the stairs down to the first floor, Steve hot on your heels. “Thanks,” you try to keep your voice level and impassive passing through the corridor. Steve keeps a respectful distance as you stride through the doors of the library.

Something is wrong, but he can’t guess as to what. You’d been off all week; since your weekend bender, really. Nance had dropped you back at The Hideout to get your car and once she’d returned she beelined directly to her room and didn’t say a word.

Nancy rarely has such a visceral reaction to anything, so whatever you had divulged to her was enough to crack the surface of her rage. Having been on the receiving end of it before, Steve knows it’s endless.

But the question remains, why haven’t you said anything to him? You’re friends, thick as thieves and have been for god knows how long. Yes, you’re an unfiltered, oblivious dumbass with poor emotional regulation skills, and he hates that at times. But you are his friend; and Steve currently wants to throttle himself for allowing you to go radio-silent for the better part of a week.

He sighs, for what feels like the millionth time today, he’ll let you be.

For now.

Students have claimed tables and chairs for the evening, notebooks and laptops scattered here and there. Chairs pulled up as teens arranged themselves amongst their cliques, catching up on the latest gossip since the final bell rang.

Making quick work of Vickie’s computer you set up shop, decidedly ignoring her post-it reading ‘Dumb & Dumber - don’t mess with my shit!’ Steve slides in the circulation desk behind you, depositing your backpack at your feet. Silently, you prize the post-it from the monitor with two fingers and pass it to Steve who reads it with a snort.

He snaps a quick photo to send to the ‘elite meeting’ group chat and tosses it into the trash. Queueing up the collaborative playlist for the night, you call out, “Okay team, this is our final Humanities night at Tiger Library before the fall break, so you know the drill.”

The students turn to the circulation desk, conversations falling to a murmur. Steve crosses his arms and leans back against the built-in bookshelf, he gestures between the two of you with his index finger, “Ask either of us a math or science question and you will be vacated from the premises.”

A few laughs and snickers ring out here and there.

“Yeah,” you concur, “Harrington will suplex you into next week and I’ll post it to the school’s socials.”

That shuts them right up.

“Furthermore,” you continue, “The collab playlist is live for tonight and if any of you turkeys forces me to listen to anything that would make your friends and parents ashamed to know you,” you pause, eyeing a few kids menacingly, “I will force everyone present to listen to ska for the rest of the session. Got it?”

Steve shudders and shakes his head, “That is not an idle threat, by the way. She’s done it before and it was god awful.”

Announcements made, you and Steve sign off on a few seat-time papers for the credit recovery kids and settle in for the night. You open your texts to find a notification from Eddie in the group chat. Reading through Harrington and Buckley’s responses, you tap out a reply to Eddie’s question.

💫elite meeting💫

bandcamp 👿: why is my paladin not at Hellfire you schmucks?

god’s fav 😎: spill the tea, sis.

dingus 👽: ooh, if he’s breakin out the yiddish he must be pissed!

trouble 👁️👄👁️: it’s like you don’t even read your emails eds.

god’s fav 😎: whaddup, i’m eddie, i’m 28, and i never learned how to fuckin read ✌️

bandcamp 👿: shut up.

During tutorial nights, someone from the group would be assigned to take care of dinner for whomever else was stuck on campus. Nancy had made a laminated chart and stuck it to the loft’s fridge, y’know, like any completely sane person would do.

You huff a laugh and open your insta feed, clicking on the invite in your messages. ‘Steve has invited you to eat at Chipotle today!’ You select your regular order, tacking on some chips and queso for good measure.

After a while, a student shyly approaches the circulation desk with a worn copy of The Catcher in the Rye and a worksheet in hand. You give her a reassuring smile and invite her to take a seat. As you’re reviewing the questions she’s struggling with, Eddie storms into the room searching for Mike.

“Wheeler,” he bellows, startling the students from their conversations, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The student at your side jumps in her chair at the sheer volume of his voice. “Oy, Munson,” you hiss, “Can it!” He fixes you with a perturbed glance and strides over to Mike’s table to tear him a whole new asshole.

Managing to get the students back on track, you talk through the more complex passages of the text with the girl, directing her back to the questions when appropriate, and send her off with a friendly wave.

Returning from his circuit around the library, Steve dramatically slumps into the chair at your side, letting out a long-suffering sigh. He shoves his glasses up to his hair in an effort to scrub at his eyes. “What’s got ya down, clown?”

He blows a raspberry and rolls his eyes at your quip. “See that table by the windows?”

“Yeah,” you nod, noting the giggling group of girls, freshmen, if you had to guess. Sneaking side-long glances at Steve before blushing profusely and turning back to their friends. “Ooh, they seem struck by you!” you tease, letting your voice twang in a southern affectation.

“Don’t encourage them!” he admonishes, “They wanted help with geography, I don’t even teach that,” he sulks.

“Steven,” you gasp, “Don’t tell me you never learned to read a map, you are an educator!”

Steve fixes you with a glance, “I’ll have you know, it all gets very confusing in Europe after the dissolution of the Soviet Bloc.”

“Don’t you teach AP World: Modern?”

“Yeah, you know that.”

“A-are you indoctrinating the students, Steve?” you needle him, earning an exasperated huff in response. “Snowflake,” you tsk reproachingly, “Trigger warnings! War on Christmas!”

The taunting continues until Eddie approaches the desk. With a too-wide smile directed at Steve, you cut your eyes across the library to where Wheeler sits trembling like a leaf.

Mike looks well and thoroughly abashed after whatever Munson just lectured him about. Sinking as low in his seat as he did during the parent conference facilitated by Assistant Principal Bauman. Munson had clearly laid it on thick.

Chains jangling against his hip, he sits on the desk. “Hey there, big boy,” he purrs winking at Steve, causing him to blush and sputter. “Light of my life,” he croons addressing you, “A thousand apologies for young Wheeler there,” he nods at the dejected teen in question, “It will not be happening again.” Raising his voice to a louder pitch, hollers out, “Not on my watch!”

“Yeah,” you goad him, waggling your brows, “On god, no cap?”

He stares at you as if you’d grown another head, and leans down to your level. “What fuckin’ Tik-Tok nonsense is that now?”

A notification pings from someone, Steve probably; grandpa that he is, he refuses to silence his phone like a normal person, no matter how many times you show him the focus or do not disturb function.

He throws his keys at Eddie, who catches them before the ring of metal can brain him in the face. Steve pouts as Eddie jangles them triumphantly walking out the door, “Be back in five, hot stuff!”

Steve sends you an annoyed look, “Please tell me that wasn’t directed at me.”

You take a loud sip from his hydroflask and grin, “No, you’re big boy and I’m hot stuff,” you chide. “C’mon now.” Like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“So,” he mutters escorting you to your car later that evening. “Are you ever gonna spill what went down the other night?”

“Huh,” you kiss your teeth with a wet click, bag slung haphazardly across your arm. “Thought Nance would’ve cracked by now.”

“What d’ya mean?”

You kick at the rocks scattered along the blacktop, refusing to meet his eyes. “Well,” you sigh. A grunt, a huff of breath before you tug at the strap of your backpack and admit flatly, “He, uh, ended it.” You hold up your left hand and wiggle your fingers in proof, and sure enough, no engagement ring in sight.

Steve never truly understood what people meant when they said the phrase ‘seeing red’ until now. Granted, he’d been knocked on the head more than most in his time, but even with the concussions he still had enough sense to know that you were the real fucking deal. And any asswipe that thinks he can do better than you is sorely mistaken.

He should know.

Willing himself not to vibrate with rage, he slings an arm across your shoulders and pulls you to his chest. You sniffle and press your forehead to his neck, he smells clean and comforting like cypress and vetiver with the faintest whiff of laundry detergent.

“M’sorry honey,” he soothes, voice soft and low, subtly rocking from side to side as you fail to stop the tears from falling. “I gotcha, it’s okay.”

Naturally, you completely lose your shit in the school parking lot while Steve holds you. And truthfully, you’re more frustrated than anything because you’d been trying so damn hard to keep it together this week. You thought you’d been doing pretty well, too, until Harrington used his dumb best-friends-forever powers of perception.

Unbeknownst to you, everyone’s been desperately trying to keep their cool.

Nancy was tight-lipped about the cause for your bender last weekend, but occupants of the loft were distinctly aware of how rigidly she held herself after dropping you off. Completely glued to her phone in case you needed anything at all and going so far as to out-law rom-coms for seemingly no reason.

His anger is simmering now, bubbling just under the surface because hell if he’s going to let you see how affected he is. True, he was never the biggest fan of your fiancé, well, ex-fiancé now, but he seemed like an okay guy.

Clearly not.

A wet sob claws its way from your throat as Steve draws you closer, his hand cradling the back of your head. He’s doing his best to comfort you, but there’s only so much he can do in the parking lot of Hawkins high school.

He pulls back briefly to look down at you, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “Wanna crash at the loft?” He asks, voice hushed, as if he’s afraid to spook you. You glance over your shoulder to your car parked a few spaces away, eyes wide and wet.

Steve feels like he’s lost all language. Doesn’t know any words because you’re stuttering, cursing, and sobbing against his chest like he’s never heard before. He’s at a complete loss as he shepherds you toward his car, opening the passenger door and sliding you into the seat. He has to pry your fingers off from the way you’d latched on to his shirt.

As the door closes, he grabs his phone and types out a quick missive to let the roommates know what’s coming.

🫰freeloaders🫰

steeb🖕: nance, a heads up would’ve been nice

bucko 🤠: 👀

nwa 🔪: oh shit.

dumbass🤘 : stop talking in code nerds

steeb🖕 has changed the name of this group from 🫰freeloaders🫰 to 👊 fight club👊

steeb🖕: trouble is crashing with us, it’s bad guys. like, defcon 1

bucko 🤠: isn’t that the lowest level of defcon?

steeb🖕: not the time robs

nwa 🔪: her fiancé broke it off, that’s why she got shitfaced. didn’t want me to say anything until she was ready

bucko 🤠: what a piece of shit

dumbass🤘: i’m gonna need his name and address, ss# is a plus but not a necessity

bucko 🤠: eddie NO

steeb🖕: eddie YES

nwa🔪 has ‘liked’ this message

“Sorry–” you whisper hoarsely, “I’m–sorry–”

Steve’s mouth falls open, so fucking helpless and confused. “There’s no need for that,” he assures you, “You didn’t do anything hon.”

You’ve barely gotten out of the shower, hair damp and dripping on the tiles of the bathroom. You stand in the doorway, dressed in an oversized Warped Tour shirt from ages ago, one bare foot scratching the adjacent ankle.

Steve had to coax you to shower after arriving at the loft, your face puffy, smeared with tears and snot. Once you had been safely stowed in the shower, Nancy went into crisis-management mode. Delegating tasks to everyone in proximity to her and speaking in hushed tones with your parents on the phone.

Robin was in charge of securing a sub for you tomorrow (and, let’s be honest, one for Eddie, Steve, and herself as well), Eddie was researching moving companies and doing some mild internet sleuthing about your ex, just for his own research purposes, which left Steve on babysitting duty.

You start crying again, hiding the tears in your palms and dropping to the floor, curling up. Shit. Shit. Shit. Steve’s losing it. Can’t even keep you happy for two seconds–which he knows is the easiest job in the world because you have attention span of a goldfish and will laugh at anything.

He’s still perplexed when he drops to the floor with you, splaying his legs around your body, wrapping his arms around your back. His shirt is basically soaked through, sopping with your tears but that doesn’t deter you. You burrow into his chest, hands crawling up his shoulder blades, fingertips digging in enough to bruise, and you cling to him like a lifeline. Steve’s chest swells in pain for you, a hurt he feels down to his bones. You’re shaking with sobs and shivery hot in his arms.

Unable to soothe your tears, Steve gets to work and slides an arm down underneath your legs to secure you against his chest. “Okay honey, hold tight,” he breathes, scooping you up as he rises from the cold tile floor. You press your face further into his chest, sinking so deep into his hold he thinks you might fall right into him. Another choked sob as you nod.

He carries you down the hall and into his bedroom, all dark and quiet. Steve lays you down atop his sheets where you continue to sob fitfully, eyes blooming with fresh tears. He reaches over your body, takes the far edge of the sheet and pulls it around, tucking it beneath your back. He does the same to the other side and soon enough, you’re wrapped snugly in its cocoon. Only your head is visible.

And he knows you’re sad, and it’s very fucking real. The kind of sadness he felt when Nancy crushed his heart to smithereens back in high school. That, but times a thousand.

“How’s that?” he says, breaking the silence now that your cries have died down. “Better?”

You blink at him after a while. Your head jerks a few times, eyes pointedly cutting to the open space on the bed next to you.

Steve shucks his shirt, volleying it to the hamper, and slips in chuckling at the way you inch your body closer to his. His arm falls to rest against your hip, “Okay honey,” he whispers over the top of your head, “Better now?”

“Mmhm,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest once more. “Stevie,” you rasp, voice muffled, “Can you stay?”

“Yeah,” he says right away, fingers sketching along your side, a crease of worry forming between his brows. “‘Course I’ll stay honey, long as you want.”

Steve spends another couple of hours with you, settling down in hopes that you’ll eventually drift off to sleep. He pulls a movie up on his phone, something with little emotional labor because you’re more than likely spent for the week. He lays next to you on the bed, propped up by a pillow or two, his free hand tracing calming circles against your hip. After the credits roll, your swollen eyelids begin to slip shut.

He stays for a little longer, just until your breathing evens out and he knows you’re asleep. As gently and slowly as he can, Steve gets out of bed careful not to jostle you awake and makes his way to the living room. Everyone’s awake and lost in their own little world, it’s quiet save for the sound of clacking keys and mouse clicks.

Settling against an armchair, he clears his throat and says, “She’s asleep, for now.”

“How’s she doing?”

He shrugs, because isn’t that the million dollar question. Steve couldn’t begin to guess at that thoughts rattling through your brain. But he tries anyway, “Uh, not great.”

Silence settles around them once more. Steve stares wordlessly at the ceiling and grits his teeth loud enough for everyone to hear. He inhales a deep, steady breath and it feels like the only one he’s taken in hours.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to fall back on a familiar feeling. To push past all the anger and hurt; the tinge of his own failure he tries not to associate with you, struggles to do that most days, too.

Behind the darkness of his eyelids, there is strangely so much light.

A semblance of hope.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #fanfiction #stranger things #reader insert #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

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the-elusive-soleil · 5 months

Text

Some random headcanons I have for a Silm modern AU:

Feanor is the son of Finwe's ex-wife Miriel (they split more or less amicably due to the more kids/no more kids thing). There are more resources to help deal with this than in canon Valinor, so while Feanor isn't happy about the Indis and half-siblings situation, he's able to get to a place of mostly getting along with them.

Finwe made his money in investments--Aule Industries, Elentari Electric Co., Sulimo Aerospace...you get the picture.

Feanor could have gone to work for Aule Industries, but instead he struck out on his own as an inventor, and holds patents for several now-common items.

He's married to the famous sculptor Nerdanel. They've had their disagreements, but they're in couples therapy and working on sticking together.

Fingolfin is a state-level politician. He and Feanor mostly sort of get along provided everyone avoids certain topics.

Maedhros works for Fingolfin as a political fixer, which he is very very good at. Feanor has mostly made his peace with this.

Maglor went through a classical musical education, but eventually his hobby band Noldolante took off to the point that he went full-time with it. He's the lead vocalist and songwriter. Currently thinking their sound would be something like heavy metal but with the instruments and volume of acoustic folk.

Their musical rivals are the folk duo Nightingale Shadow, the brother-sister pair Daeron and Luthien Gray.

Celegorm got a job through his grandfather's friend Orome Aldaron at Aldaron LLC, an outdoor gear company resembling Cabela's, as a spokesperson/sponsored rep type of thing. He has a huge dog and tells a different story every time someone asks where he got him, and keeps trying to ask out Luthien from Nightingale Shadow (which drives Maglor nuts).

Caranthir is a stocks trader and financial advisor, which has made him wealthy enough on his own to rival Finwe. At some point, he announces his engagement (despite no one in the family knowing he was dating) to a small business owner named Haleth who takes none of his guff.

Curufin works with his father as a fellow inventor. He married an epidemiologist several years back, and they have a small son, Tyelpe, who is already being brought to an unbelievable number of "take your child to work" days. Everyone's bracing for the mad science to reach critical mass once Tyelpe's old enough to wield a screwdriver.

Amrod and Amras are still in high school and haven't confirmed a path in life yet, although they do quite a bit of Celegorm's social media stuff with him.

Fingon used to work with his father and Maedhros, but eventually decided that politics wasn't for him, and now runs a nonprofit to aid disaster victims. He and Maedhros frequently tease each other about how exhausted their respective careers are making them.

Turgon works in some capacity for the city government, which he claims is the level of politics where things actually get done.

Aredhel also works for Aldaron LLC as a spokesperson; sometimes she and Celegorm will collaborate on posts.

At some point, she starts a relationship with a guy named Eol, but leaves him when he turns out to be a controlling jerk. Post-breakup, she finds out she's pregnant, and ends up keeping the baby because Eol doesn't want her to do so and make him pay child support. She turns out a better mom than anyone expects.

Finarfin is some kind of lawyer working in conflict resolution and mediation. He is very good at it; he ought to be, given all the practice he's had.

Finrod owns an ethically sourced jewelry company. His brother Orodreth works for him.

Aegnor and Angrod are college students; Angrod is undeclared, but Aegnor is studying anthropology.

Artanis is in high school and the most politically minded teenager ever. She's in student government and on the debate team and Model UN, you name it. The family used to joke that someday she was going to rule a small country. They still say it, but it's become less and less of a joke over the years.

#silmarillion #modern au #headcanons #house of finwe #house of feanor #house of fingolfin #house of finarfin #not tagging all these characters #to maybe write someday?

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heinousactszx · 3 months

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In your opinion how did the open world format work for pokemon legends of arceus? Is there anything you would have changed about it?

TLDR, i think it worked fantastically. but in order to get into why, i think i need to get into why the open world of SV (and to a lesser extent swsh) did NOT work.

It's practically one of my mantras at this point, but an open world game can have an explorable space as big as the real world itself; it's not going to be fun to play if it's not worth exploring. that means having interesting locales, secrets and new abilities to find, and exciting challenges to seek out.

Scarlet and violet... Don't really have that. the only thing you can really find in the game are, well, pokemon. Yeah yeah I know there's trainers and the treasures of ruin and maybe a raid battle, but overwhelmingly what you're finding in that big open world is pokemon. And the fun of discovering them sort of pales when really all you can do with that discovery is add them to your team or your dex. Plus, unlike classic pokemon games, the removal of random encounters means there's no real reason to even engage with the pokemon you see once you're at a high enough level and have them in the dex. seriously, once you realize how much of SV is just walking around pokemon in the open world, you'll never unsee it

you could argue that having the choice to complete the 3 stories in any order you like is one of the things you can find. But when all of those events are tied to a structured level scale that doesn't change, your "choice" comes down to either running into fights that are way too hard and then abruptly way too easy, or playing in the exact order they want you to. not exactly enticing either way. Scarlet and violet probably would have just been better off as a more linear pokemon with typical hallway routes instead of spending all this time on an open world that rarely enhances any part of the experience (though i will admit running around with a friend in union circle is really fun)

ANYWAY to get back to what you actually asked, Legends arceus sidestepped this issue by making interacting with pokemon the entire gameplay loop. it was a stroke of genius to make completing the pokedex the main goal of the game, because unlike in the regular series, catching a pokemon does not tie the bow on it. No, in order to advance in the game and truly fill out the dex, you have to complete research tasks related to that pokemon. Hitting it with certain attacks, using items, number caught, number stunned, using certain moves, and so many more. some of them even have side-quests associated with them!

all of this encourages you to do more with the entirety of the world you're exploring than SV offered. switching up your team and trying new things to fill out dex entries is encouraged and gives so much variety to the actual experience of playing the game like you usually would. While there's actually less pokemon to find than in SV or swsh, improving the way you actually engage with all of them makes legends much more exciting to run around in.

not to mention, the game feel in legends is just better, flat out. walking around feels better, the ride pokemon are more fun, pokemon running from you or attacking you feels more immersive than the way they mostly just exist waddling around in the other switch games. It helps that legends, while having some performance issues, is nowhere near as bad as SV has it.

of course, the truth of the matter is that legends arceus is not truly an open world game. It's a series of large and open but disconnected areas accessible from a main hub, rather than one large contiguous gamespace. remoraid to my head, i think i'd pick the former every time. it gives the game more focused central game design and cuts out a lot of extra transient elements that don't really add that much. Running around a true open world is fun and all, but legends arceus would not have been a better game just because you could walk directly from one area to another, much in the same way that Scarlet and violet really aren't better games for it either

as for what i'd change? honestly? nothing. the gameplay loop of legends was so addicting that i did almost nothing but play it for weeks when it first came out. it was and is the best pokemon game in over a decade. in some ways i can't believe it's actually as good as it is. i remember being so anxious with a friend that it was going to be a disaster when it ended up being a masterpiece.

no, wait, what i'd change is game freak's awful habit of adding cool new features, like this entire game, and then never touching them again. make a sequel. pokemon legends kyurem. call me mr iwao i can make this work

#heinousasks #driftingballoons #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon scarlet and violet #heinous plays pokemon

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legitimatesatanspawn · 6 months

Text

Things that scare me as a gamer:

Jumpscares.

Item Decay and Hunger systems.

Using that one special unique item and hoarding all items until the final battle, but fully expecting it to be needed for a post-game thing so still refusing to use it.

NIS games' insane Level caps which last I saw went from 9999 to just shy of one hundred million (99,999,999).

The sheer amount of Pokemon and the expectation to "catch them all" (which is why I wasn't able to play Ruby/Sapphire and dipped from the mainline games until Black/White; I've given up on "catching them all").

Romhacks and fangames that include the entire series pokedex and attempt to cram in multiple regions. One fangame I can think of has almost every mainline region and a few bonus areas. God damn, even just running each area and doing each gym without encountering any sideplot with Evil Teams will be insane.

Dwarf Fortress.

The higher level "sanity meter" hits in Eternal Darkness. The high tier sanity meter were designed to rattle the player, like making you think the game crashed or you lost your save file.

Losing my save file regardless of the reason. Looking at you, Nier.

When the freeware build of OneShot crashed. Because in the original version of the game, this killed Niko. If Niko dies (ex: poison gas field without mask) or you closed the game outside of a save point, that's it. The game refused to let you continue playing.

I Wanna Be The Guy.

Games with time limits. This can be stuff like Majora's Mask clock/schedule system or something like Pikmin's 'daily' setup or any farming sim / social game where you have to make choices based on each day (ex: Harvest Moon, Stardew Valley, Persona, Recettear, ect)

Enemies similar to Tonberries.

And the reason I'm saying all this: the idea of fighting two giant tonberries.

#gaming #game mechanics #just talking #pokemon #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #tonberry #eternal darkness #dwarf fortress #i wanna be the guy #oneshot #niko oneshot #majora's mask #nis america

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yan-sideblog · 2 years

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How about:

In the STT AU (Sunny Time Town AU), how would Jack introducing MC to his family go?

I wanna see that! 🌸😃🌸

Ok HCs for now but I'm 100% doing a fic of this later. Seriously anon i LOVE Jack's parents & his sister, as you may be able to tell by the lwngth of this 😅.

When he first told his family he was seeing Y/N they were all elated.

Especially considering he'd always talk about them since their first meeting so his feeling were pretty obvious, especially to Papa Rise.

After all he inherited many of his own ways of obsessing over loving his significant other from him so Rise knew the signs when he saw them.

Mama Shine dramatically lamented over her "baby boy" growing up to fast.

"Shine our son is a grown man with a house and a job." Rise will sign with a fond eyeroll.

Jane, who wasn't in town when he called and told her, could be heard stumbling over various items in her excitement.

But that pales in comparison to how happy they are when he says he plans on bringing them to dinner when Jane is in town next.

They'd been dating a few months already and it seemed like a good a time as any to him.

Shine is immediately thinking up a million different plans because it HAS to be perfect, it's her first impression on her future in law after all.

Jane, while not AS high energy as her mother, is also all aboard the hype train.

Meaning it's up to Rise to help reign his wife & daughter in to a more reasonable level.

"I know you're both excited but we don't wanna scare them off or make them uncomfortable".

He's by no means any less excuted but as a non-verbal person with a very vocal high energy family he knows that different people have different thresholds.

So the three compromise on the more reasonable idea of a relaxing game night.

It's something fun most people can enjoy and takes some of the pressure off of having to come up with conversation topics.

As for the food Rise is in charge of that full stop, he made sure to ask Jack for Y/N's favorites.

So with the activities and the meal planned out they all wait for the day circled on their calanders to approach.

When they finally meet Shine can't help but scoop them into a tight hug and exclaim how happy she is to finally meet them.

"Jacks told us so much about ya! You're more adorable in person, don't ya think so Rise?" she beamed at her husband with a smile exactly like her son's.

Luckily Jack told them how excited his family was so they were prepared for the energetic welcome.

By comparison Rise gives them a much calmer welcome before excusing himself to go finish dinner.

"Come ooon Jack you see them literally all the time, give the rest of us a turn." Jane pops up to their side and hooks her arm around theirs to drag them off to the living room.

Anyone else and he would've reacted quite negatively but this man absolutely LOVES his family and is just so happy things are going well.

"So wanna hear some embarrassing stories 'bout my baby brother? I've got tons." Jane teases looking back at Jack & their mother as the twi follow them.

And so they all started chatting over a few funny childhood stories.

Though Jack was mildly embarassed when his sister chimed in with "Bet you would've never guessed the big guy here was a crybaby wgen we were little huh?".

Not much time passed before Rise came back in to let them all know dinner was ready.

"I hope you like everything. Jack told me what you liked so i tried going off of what he told me." Rise signed as they all sat down.

Dinner consisted of much of the typical "meeting your child's partner" conversation.

Them asking Y/N about things like work, theur life and how they met.

Even though Jack most certainly told them most of it already they wanted to hear Y/N's perspective on things.

Once dinner they finished the returned to the living room for a few family favorite board games.

Teams would rotate with someone occasionally sitting out a round to play commentator "Ooh looks like Dad has to go straight to the clink.".

They all had a great time as the night wore on and Jack couldn't help the adoring look that came over his face.

He already knew he wanted to be with them forever but seeing them here, with his family, further cemented in his mind that they belonged together.

And he'd do whatever he needed to make sure they stayed that way, nobody would take his sunshine from him.

#jack #rise #shine #jane #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack #swwsdj #sdj #sdj headcanons #sdj stt au #anonymous #yan-sideblog

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 11 months

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Hi! How about a hcs with a gender neutral reader that gets turned into a cat temporarily by a stand, how would la squadra react?

Have a nice day :>

Sure! I’ll go character by character on this one

Yandere! La Squadra w/ gn! Darling turned into a cat by a stand

Risotto - *bat bat bat* He hears the soft sound of something messing around with his hat (he takes it off every so often aside from showers and sleeping). There’s immediate suspicion as he goes to investigate, finding a cat rather than you mesmerized by the golden baubles that spelled his name. Doesn’t take long for the leader himself to put two and two together that you are the cat. Considering he makes sure you won’t escape whatsoever any other time.

It’s hard to tell but his eyes soften slightly from amusement of cat you playing with his hat. He’ll likely pick you up, expression hardening at a potential stand user looming around. He’ll immediately order the rest of the group to be on high alert and track down the user. As cute as you were in cat form, he was not amused by this little trick no matter how harmless it seemed.

Formaggio - manages to squeeze a crude joke, makes a casual comment of how cute you were like that. How he’d love to spend time with you being like that more, while scratching under your chin. He observes if your full on cat, which seems to be the case. Doesn’t mean he won’t be constantly bringing up how willingly you allowed him to pet you, when you revert back later.

Illuso - Amused you were turned into a cat of all things, he’d love to have alone time with you in his mirror world without disturbance. Just an hour or two of holding you close to him. He wouldn’t lie he would have extra satisfaction of bashing the stand users face in from turning you into a cat. Though before that he snaps a picture with a camera of you in cat form for later usage.

Melone - coos and fawns over you the second he sets eyes on you. Even in cat form you seem to be fairly stiff around him, and he absolutely notes every behavior like a decent scientist would. Light touches and pets down the back, and he doesn’t flinch if you decide to try and scratch. You can be certain he’ll be calling you kitten or similar cat nicknames when you revert. Not to mention maybe receiving cat related clothing or other items.

Ghiaccio - In typical fashion he’s more irate that somehow someone got passed them enough to do something to you. He might pet you a bit while ranting how he’s likely going to freeze the user solid if he narrows down where they are. He does think you’re cute in all honesty, he’s simply pissed a slip up on his part or his team caused this headache. The scene is mildly amusing as he continues his rant and pets your soft fur. He’ll likely mention how cute you were with a smirk when he calms down and you’re back to normal.

Prosciutto - As obnoxious as Ghiaccio’s yelling could be, he’s also aggravated at this massive oversight. He definitely ends up approaching to pet you, knowing full well he’ll have to take care of any fur that gets on his suit later. He notes the color of your eyes in cat formed more observationally than anything. Coaxes you to come closer, while side eyeing Pesci who seems giddy at you being a cat. It’s cute but he wants you in human form back as a soon as possible.

Pesci - He’s pretty much over the moon upon seeing you, but trying to keep it to a lower level so he doesn’t end up being poked fun at. Or alternatively being slightly reprimanded by Prosciutto for losing composure when an enemy could be in the vicinity. He has all sorts of thoughts of using one of those mouse toys with you. The man’s pretty much squeaking internally at how cute you were all while giving you some nice head pats. Though he would diligently help eliminate the perpetrator when it came down to it.

Sorbet and Gelato - both of them are pretty fond of the attitude of cats, and they both laugh that you were turned into one of all things. They’ll likely make fun of the user for such a ridiculous strategy, even if they’re nowhere near around. All taking turns holding you, noting how helpless you were not that it made a difference being human either. They both figure out where you like being pet almost immediately, and of course maybe weaponize it against you later like some of the other members of La Squadra.

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strayfoxxchan · 1 year

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Team [Crush] Tactics

Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Major League Gaming AU lmfao

Content Warning: Some cussing, awkward flirting

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: There's lots of gaming stuff in here, sorry! But I try to explain TFT in noob terms for those of you who haven't played.

Tag List: @minnysproutgriffinteddy (It wont let me tag you!)

The crowd was going wild. Thousands had crammed into the arena, their faces glowing with pink and blue lights from above.

The stage felt too high, and the monitors over your head seemed too massive to comprehend. Your palms were clammy, slipping off the mouse in front of you. You shake them a few times, hoping to dry the sweat and clear the knot building in your throat.

“Hey, cowboy up,” Cameron, your teammate, punches you in the shoulder. “We’ve got this, and these guys ain’t shit.” He looks across to the opposite end of the stage and sneers.

“Stop sneering,” you grumble at him, rubbing the spot he’d hit with more force than he’d likely meant to. “You’re embarrassing me.” You feel yourself shrinking into the uncomfortable gaming chair. Ergonomic, my ass.

A lot of Team Fight Tactics is strategic: building into character types to gain bonuses for your team, understanding where to place each character on the board, and leveling them up to acquire more health and hitting power. If you play your cards right, so to speak, you can wipe the board in a matter of seconds. But much of it also comes down to lucky RNG and quick thinking.

You know the only way you’ll win this is to calm down and keep your head straight. You have no time for intimidation when the timer is running. Although you play on a team of yourself and three men, Team Fight Tactics is primarily a solo endeavor. Ultimately, you’re also playing against your teammates to win.

The announcers are chatting amongst themselves over the incredibly loud speakers, preparing the audience for the battle ahead. Before you know it, they’re announcing the teams. As each member of your team called, they stand, wave, and dance, grinning cockily. When the announcer shouts your name, you simply stand, give a nervous smile, and throw a peace sign at the crowd, earning you an eruption of cheers and whistles. As quickly as you had stood, you are back to sinking into the chair.

You stare at the opposite team as their names are called.

This is the first time you’ve heard about this team, and you’re positive they’re never heard of you either. It was your first MLG tournament, after all, and it seems to be theirs as well. They look triumphant, proud of themselves for having made it to this point. Their names float through your ears as if in a dream.

But, the last name is called, and instead of pumping up the audience as his other teammates had, he stands, looking directly at you, and winks before sitting back down. Bang Chan, they had said. The name sticks in your mind.

Before you realize it, the match has started. The carousel is turning, and your eyes dart across the screen, looking for Brawlers. You spot her instantly: Vi walks the carousel haughtily. As the barrier drops, you run. Score.

Each time the shop pops, you pull as many Brawlers as you can, throwing in whatever Laser Corps champions you can get your hands on. The timer, in the beginning, gives you some time to sort out items, and the auto battles allow you to survey the other team for a moment or two. Around round 3, you look up during the battle, and Bang Chan looks up at the same time. He grins at you and winks again, the overhead lights glow on his dimples. Your heart skips for a moment before your eyes dart back down to the screen.

“Is he trying to intimidate me?” You say to yourself.

“Who?” Cameron glances at you, raising a brow.

“What?” You could have sworn you used your inside voice.

You continue building your team to the best of your ability. You manage, with some lucky RNG, to grab Mordekaiser, building into him as much as you can. It’s a near unbeatable combination, and your confidence begins to grow.

Bang Chan’s name shows up on your screen. It’s time to knock that wink right out of him. The battle ends quickly with you on top. Your killing streak hits 9. As it ends, you look up at him and wink. His frown slowly grows into a smile full of fire, eyes narrowed as if to say “You’ll pay for that one.”

Your teammates are dropping like flies. Their overconfidence has done nothing to benefit the team. The opposing team still stands fairly strong. You’ve been stuck at 90 health for almost 11 rounds. You manage to hold your own for a few more rounds before things begin to go wrong.

It’s 2 against 1. Bang Chan and his teammate, Felix, are still standing. You are all that’s left to defeat them.

You can do this, you know you can. You manage to pull one over on Felix, knocking him down to -5 health, and you can’t help but to jump up and let out a roar unbecoming of the tiny woman you are, but the crowd erupts.

It was at that moment, however, that you knew this match couldn’t be won. Felix had knocked enough health out of you that you were down to only 19 hit points, while Bang Chan managed to keep around 55.

As the final battle commences, your heart drops. He’d been building into Jax. There was no way. You bite your lip as you look up at him, not willing to watch your team get murdered.

He meets your gaze, eyes darting from your bitten lip to your worried brow. His eyes soften, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

You lose the battle in 2nd place.

The stadium is split nearly in half, some groaning, some cheering, but all spirited and screaming. The host appears on stage, pulling the two of you into the middle by the wrists, raising Bang Chan’s hand high into the air, and leaving yours to the side. As the announcer's words fade into the background noise, Bang Chan moves to stand beside you.

“Hey,” he says simply.

“Hey.” You cross your arms. “Good game.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “What are you doing after this?”

“What?”

“What?” he repeats after you.

“I-I’m not d-doing anything after this,” you answer his question belatedly, taking a few moments to process.

“Oh, yeah, good… Cool.” He nods.

“...Why?” You pause, glancing at him.

“I was just thinking… maybe we could talk strats after this?”

“S-strats?” You turn to him. “W-what?” You take in his features: his dark hair and eyes, shy smile and full lips, his handsomely carved nose. For a gamer, he looked strong, like he could throw you over his shoulder and run a mile with no effort.

“Over dinner?” He clears his throat, shaking you out of your reverie. “Do you want to go to dinner after this, I mean?” He tries this again with a little more confidence. For a man who spent the near hour the match had taken winking at and slaughtering you, he was really bad at this game.

“How can you be so smooth yet so awkward at the same time?” You attempt to stifle a laugh, but you blush instead, confident the color of the lighting would hide this. “Is dinner on you?”

“I mean, I did just a really big check,” he motions at the giant piece of printed cardboard leaning on his side. You had been in such a daze, you hadn’t even noticed the announcer handing it to him.

“Are you just doing this because I’m a girl and I almost beat you?” You crinkle your nose at him, just slightly uneasy.

“I’m not that shallow, but I can’t deny, you’re pretty sexy in a ‘she could definitely take me in a fight’ kind of way.” He shrugs. “I would like to get to know you before I decide to make a move, though.” The confidence sticks this time, making your heart race. “Looks aren’t everything.”

You consider this. “Only if you reveal all your secrets to me. That Jax kicked my ass.” You grin and wink, earning a wink back.

“Deal.”

#stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #christopher bang #bang chan #chris bang #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #skz bang chan #bang chan skz #bang chan stray kids #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #kpop fluff

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inksmearedpages · 3 months

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Sages of Balance

Concept

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon meets High Fantasy Isekai Anime with a focus on Political Intrigue, Mysteries, and Action.

Summary

Jay awakens in the world of Pokemon as a Buizel and must learn to fit into this surprisingly organized society he's fallen into. Things only become more complicated when a betrayal awakens the powers of a Sage within him. Moving to the Capital, Jay strives to adjust to his new role as a Keeper of Balance on top of navigating the uneven political landscape that seeks to trip him up at every turn. What adventures await him and his allies? What mysteries will he unravel? And what shadowy secrets lurk just beneath the surface of the Capital?

(The World Building and Story Beats sections will be under the Read More Link to prevent this post from taking up your entire dashboard.)

World Building

Society

Medieval/High Fantasy society with a Pokemon flavoring that focuses on keeping a balance between civilization and nature. Most accommodations such as food, shelter, education, and medicine are freely provided or traded for. Of course, being Pokemon, some may be more comfortable sleeping outside and various public spaces are set aside for this purpose. Money is mostly for luxuries, public works, and assistance programs so the shadow of capitalism doesn't hang over this world. There are rich Pokemon still, but they don't hoard their wealth for the most part. Many Pokemon choose to go by nicknames in this world as with the rapid development of society, the chances of you knowing more than one Pokemon of the same species is rather high. Pokemon choose these names for themselves once they are old enough and can change them throughout their lives is they so choose.

Magic and Technology

Typical high fantasy levels of technology, but catered towards Pokemon design sensibilities. Carts and taxis where the Pokemon pulling them are paid employees. Mail delivered by bird and Flying type Pokemon. Psychic and Fighting types working side by side as the primary construction and repair crews. Grass type apothecaries and Fire type bakers. High production of goods such as farms and plantations for seeds and berries. Enchanters specializing in creating orbs, rods, and accessories. Ethically sourced materials for building and crafting. Research into Frisms has resulted in the invention of sound broadcasting similar to radio and personal communication devices. Devices similar to still image cameras are common, but their version of video cameras are very expensive and are reserved for the rich or Law Enforcement Guild.

Guilds

Guilds are the lifeblood of society and come in various types. Adventuring Guilds sponsor Rescue and Exploration teams who brave the wilds and Mystery Dungeons of the world. Supply Guilds focus on providing various resources such as food through farming and gathering or collecting raw materials for building, making medicine, and crafting enchanted items. Crafting Guilds use the products from Supply Guilds to create the necessities of life from the mundane such as bricks and cookware to the fantastical such as the enchanted orbs, rods, and accessories often used by Adventurers. While the Adventurers keep the peace in the wilds, the Law Enforcement Guild keeps the peace within settlements. There is only one Law Enforcement Guild that has branches in every settlement and answers only to the High Council so as to prevent any potential schisms or power grabs.

Government

The government of this world is comprised of Councils. These Councils determine laws and policies through debate and voting. Council Members, known as Representatives or Councilmon, are determined by a mix of voting campaign and battle prowess. There are four levels of Councils. The Local Councils for towns and cities. The Provincial Councils for provinces. The Eighteen Councils which determine type-specific policies to be submitted to the High Council. The High Council which determines country (world?) wide policies and laws. Local Councils are made up of residents of the settlements they serve. Typically made up of town elders and leaders, membership is less about battle and more about local knowledge and trust. Provincial Councils have at least one member from each settlement within their province. Again, membership is less about battle prowess and more about local trust. The Eighteen Councils are a set of councils that reside in the Capital. One for each type, these Councils determine type-specific policies to be introduced to the High Council so that as many voices can be heard and represented as possible. Each typed Council has a single seat for each duel type. A Representative of a duel type, Rock/Fire for example, would sit in that seat for both Councils. They would represent Rock Types for the Fire Council, and Fire Types for the Rock Council. Members are determined by nation-wide voting campaigns and battles. While it is possible to win a campaign if you lose your battle, it requires a vast majority of the popular vote. There are also mono-typed Head Council Members on each typed Council that serve on the High Council and are elected in the same way. The High Council is comprised of the Head Council Members of each of the Eighteen Councils and the High Master of the Law Enforcement Guild to act as mediator and tie breaker. (Local, Provincial, and the Eighteen Councils also have members of the Law Enforcement Guild as members to perform the same duty.) This is the top authority of the lands and determines major policy changes, disaster responses, public project fund allocation, and acts as a High Court for high profile crimes.

Sages

There are certain Pokemon in the world born with extraordinary powers. These mono-typed Pokemon have their moves of the same type boosted beyond normal. They can also learn any move a Pokemon that shares their type can learn. For example, a Fire type Sage would be able to learn Incineroar's signature move Darkest Lariat. This makes them incredibly strong and versatile in battle. It is also said that these blessed Pokemon are able to hear the Voice of Life, the very will of the planet. It guides them to where they are needed and warns them of danger. Lead by the Voice, these Pokemon historically went on to protect others and defeat various evils as they arose. Over time, these Pokemon banded together and formed the Order of Sages. Known also as the Keepers of Balance, this order would use their abilities to protect those who could not protect themselves and offer their wisdom to those who would listen. Basically, they're the Jedi of this world, but with members being in the single digits and less corruptible. They even provide advice and opinions to the High Council.

Story Beats

WARNING! SPOILERS AHEAD! If you wish to wait on the chance that I might turn this into a full fledged fic, be aware the following lays out most of the story.

Jay awakens as a Buizel and is found by an elderly Simisage.

Simisage takes him and gives him a place to stay/work on his seed and berry plantation.

Jay learns about the world and society he's in and makes a few friends.

On friend in a fellow worker on the plantation, a Floatzel a bit older than him who takes him under his wing and teaches him lots of useful things like battling.

Jay follows Floatzel one day and discovers he's been running a very illegal smuggling and wild Pokemon trafficking ring.

They fight, but Floatzel is more experienced.

Jay refuses to give up, and awakens the powers of a Sage, defeating Floatzel.

The experience traumatizes Jay, who vows never to evolve.

Jay moves to the Capital (maybe one of the local friends joins him?) and is inducted into the Order of Sages.

He meets the other sages: Master Granbull, Second in command Zangoose, Marowak, Bayleef, and Rockruff.

Jay has adventures around the city, making new friends, new rivals, and just trying to adjust to his new politically sensitive role.

He also goes to therapy to deal with his trauma of his experience with Floatzel and dealing with the stress of being a sage.

Some fun things happen, such as a talent show and festival.

Over the course of the story, a mystery of missing and vanishing Pokemon begins to unfold.

The Mind Healers Guild is broken into, and personal secrets are being read over the city's broadcast system.

Jay's secret of being human is revealed, leading to a lot of scrutiny and prejudice.

Granbull's previously kind yet gruff manner becomes cruel as his hatred of humans gets the better of him.

A conspiracy is revealed: a certain group of Pokemon wish to erase certain types of Pokemon from existence.

They lay siege to the city to try and get to the defense systems that would allow them to cast a spell powerful enough to engulf the country.

Battles all over the city as the Sages, Councilmon, Adventurers, and the Law Enforcement Guild fight back this army that seems to have been formed overnight.

Jay and some allies manage to face the leaders of the cult in the chamber that would allow them to cast their spell.

They stalemate, and the spell goes off.

The other Sages create a protective ring to slow the advance of the spell, but are losing ground.

Jay digs deep and pulls upon forbidden and tremendous power, managing to break and undo the effects of the spell.

When he wakes up in the hospital, the cult has been apprehended, and his status as human is no longer a sore point as he quite literally saved the world.

Potential sequels include:

Ultra Beasts and Type: Null and the prejudice of being human-made Pokemon

The Treasures of Ruin and the dark emotions in the hearts of all.

That's all for this overview! I've had this story idea for a really long time and I might delve into more specific details in the future. Be aware that any of this is till subject to change. I hope you enjoyed!

-JayInk

#Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Sages of Balance #PMD: Sages of Balance #PMD: SoB #Ink Writes #Outline #Fanfiction #Pokemon #Pokemon Mystery Dungeon #Writing #World Building

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