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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC is Half Demon and They’re- Oh Crap They’re Barbatos’ Kid!

This is the second part of that one request I answered for Dia and Barb’s possible kids. Sorry this took so long! Writer’s block, y’know? Anyhoo~ enjoy, everyone!

This story didn’t start on the first day of the exchange program, it started five days before in Barbatos’ room at three in the morning with the poor butler waking up in a cold sweat.

Oh dear, it appeared the exchange program would be up in a bit of a tizzy. He had… a child? Oh my… Barbatos hoped the young master wouldn’t be too miffed about the student not being a totally normal human.

On the day of the exchange program, Barbatos insisted he had to be present for the event, he carefully pushed a cushioned sofa in the drop zone before opening the portal. The child fell right out of the sky and landed perfectly on the couch, they were already wearing a helmet and looked quite shocked by the cushioned fall.

Well, it was a big shock to the assembled crowd, but the child gave everyone a lopsided smile and removed their helmet.

“So, I assume I’m here for the exchange program?”

Dadbatos

Well, this child was incredibly… what was the word the kids were using? chill? They were quite chill considering the situation, and was surprisingly prepared for the sudden drop into hell.

“Oh, I had a dream that this was going to happen, and I dream about the future n’stuff. I thought I’d come prepared.” “Ah, that’s very sensible.”

Diavolo recovered quickly from his shock and was positively delighted to meet this little munchkin. He insisted that they had to stay with their dad.

MC was polite, if not a bit overly calm about a lot of things. They didn’t run off to start trouble, and they didn’t seem very impressed by the Devildom itself. It was sort of like this child had a very low maximum level of excitement. Barbatos was glad his child wasn’t some little hellraiser.

He was never a child himself, so he’s a bit clueless about what children actually enjoy. Here child, have a… have an old torture weapon. Don’t use it on anyone who doesn’t deserve it :)

(I’m kidding, Barbatos is too responsible to give one of his instruments of torture to a child. That’s for when they’re older.)

“MC,” Barbatos knocked on his child’s door. “Have you done your homework?”

MC answered the door with a grin on their face. “Yep, done this week’s and next week’s. I’m getting a head start on the potions project due next week.”

Barbatos almost breathed a small sigh of relief. Thank the stars his child was responsible, it already took a big chunk of his energy to make sure Diavolo didn’t get distracted from his paperwork. Though, his stress levels did rise a tad when he got a glimpse at the mess in MC’s room.

“Are you going to clean that?”

“Nah,” MC shrugged. “It’s whatever. I know where everything is and nothing’s a fall risk. See you at dinner, father.”

And with that, MC shut the door. Well… no child was perfect.

As much as MC’s lack of cleanliness bothers Barbatos, he knows his kid isn’t being maliciously lazy, just for the love of the Demon King please stop leaving cups on the coffee tables without a coaster!

Oh yeah, Luke has a big sib. Sorry- little sib, because Luke isn’t some chihuahua child, he’s a totally mature grown-up Angel.

Barbatos is the type of father who will let his child go off and have whatever kind of fun they want as long as they don’t slack on their important duties.

Barbs also has a goddamn torture dungeon so we here at Stupid Headcanons inc. do NOT recommend trying to eat MC. Doing so may result in you wishing you were dead.

Don’t fuck with the butler.

Lucifer

…out of literally everyone in the room, the last person Lucifer expected to have a secret scandal baby… had a scandal baby. Damn.

At least the human wouldn’t have to live with him and his brothers. The last thing Lucifer wanted was for Barbatos to be even more aware of the chaos that went down in that house every single day.

MC and Lucifer have a healthy level of respect for one another, but Lucifer just can’t shake the feeling that this kid is messing with him somehow.

Just, little things… MC offering him fruit and loudly assuring him that it was just blackberries and nothing poisonous, asking if the RAD uniform suits his tastes, proclaiming that the dirt was high quality-

SOMEONE TOLD MC ABOUT LUCIFER’S FIRST VISIT TO THE DEVILDOM!

MC wasn’t exactly visibly goading him, they said everything with an innocent smile on their face.

When MC starts getting nosy with the attic, he’s not terribly sure how to deal with it. He was going up against a child that could at least partially tell the future. After the first time Lucifer told them to scram, they never went back to the steps… at least not when Lucifer was there to guard it…

After everything goes down, Lucifer is glad that MC wasn’t hurt or anything. He’d come to like the child and it’d be awful to lose the only person who could get his more hyperactive brothers to calm down.

Mammon

Mammon wasn’t present for the meeting, but when he was informed later, the news was met with an eloquent: “the fuck? Huh, wild.”

He isn’t too interested in MC at first. At least until the little runt saved him from getting busted for skipping class. Mammon was just eating his lunch in the courtyard when MC passed by and calmly told him that if he skipped class he should not hang out in the west staircase because Lucifer was going to walk down those steps during third period.

At first Mammon tried to brush off the warning, but ended up listening to the kid anyway, and what do ya know! He didn’t get caught by Lucifer!

That’s when it clicked that MC could see the future, right? Right?! Ya know what Mammon could use that for?! Right?!

Gambling! Scams! Schemes! General shennaniganery!

MC wasn’t terribly enthused about the entire situation, so they may have messed with Mammon a little. Just a bit.

It’s not like Mammon ever listened when MC told him to cut his losses and leave the casino anyway 🙄

Leviathan

First reaction? Thank the anime gods that there wouldn’t be another normie living in the house with him…

Reaction upon hearing that the MC was Barb’s kid? Really? Barbatos? Wow… well, to be fair Levi totally understood why someone would be attracted to Barbatos, I mean, Levi’s watched plenty of anime involving butlers, but Barbatos actually having a living breathing child? Damn.

But still, Levi wasn’t going to hang out with some normie brat. He had better and nerdier things to devote his time to.

Whenever MC visited, Levi was up in his room. But once MC decided to poke their head in the door while Levi was in the middle of gamer raging.

They calmly sat Levi down and explained to him that he could be upset about whatever happened in his game, but lashing out wasn’t going to fix anything or make him better at the actual game.

…damn it… they were right.

Slowly but surely Levi and MC built up a friendship, and the brothers rejoiced at the lack of rage related Lotan summons.

Satan

Out of everything Satan could have possibly expected from the second exchange student, this was not one of them.

Satan began to wonder exactly how MC’s powers worked, he didn’t exactly have any concrete data to compare them to because Barbatos was so mysterious

Hm, how very interesting. Satan decided that it was up to him to satiate his own curiosity and began to study MC. To be honest, MC wasn’t being terribly interesting.

They were a pretty normal kid all things considered. MC went to class, made friends, did their work, very very normal. Well, except for the fact that they seemed to dodge practically every unfortunate thing that could have happened to them.

They’d stop at the perfect time to avoid something accidentally being spilled on them, they always had pencils ready, and they always seemed to know exactly when a teacher was coming… mad sus.

Satan eventually confronted MC about this, and they just shrugged and explained that they tend to dream about what was most likely to happen the next day and would adjust their actions accordingly.

It may have been anticlimactic, but MC did inform Satan that there would be a cat in the courtyard in fifteen minutes.

HE NEEDED TO GO!

Asmodeus

Asmo had genuinely been looking forward to the new exchange program, he was excited to have a new face around the house to shake things up! He loves his dear brothers but spending thousands of years with them makes their shenanigans become a bit… well, a bit boring.

But my oh my, the new face was being obscured by that tacky bicycle helmet… the new face looked an awful lot like Barbatos…

Once Asmo registered what was going on, he was positively enchanted with the little half human. They were just so cute! They looked like a baby Barbatos with those adorably chubby cheeks!

Oh Barbatos~ he just had to let Asmo babysit!

When Asmo managed to sweep MC away for a fun day with shifty uncle Solomon, he was reminded of all the shenanigans that he, Barbatos, and Solomon used to get up to.

*sigh, Barbie was always so busy… no time for a fun night of torture, chaos, and revelry

Anyhoodles~ MC was always such a relaxed little thing. They let Asmo vent whenever any awful tragedies occur, like when Asmo finds a sweater that isn’t in his size… *sniffle*

Beelzebub

A child of Barbatos? The best cook in the three realms Barbatos?! …hey kid want to hang out with cool uncle Beel?

Beel tried everything in his power to get MC to make him food. I mean, the genetic disposition for making good food has to have been passed down from father to child!

When MC finally made Beel food, he was ecstatic!

…Until the food touched Beel’s tongue and he realized it wasn’t good, it was just… okay. Average. Passable.

Aw man… but the kid looked so excited to have made something for Beel…

Beel really hammed up his reaction to make MC feel better. Beel was like “Wow. So good. Amazing.” “Thanks Beel.”

Very sweet child, they don’t mind being used in place as a dumbell.

Belphegor

Damn, and here Belphie was, thinking Barbatos has standards. Apparently not!

When MC went and walked up the attic steps, Belphie was almost bouncing on his toes in anticipation. This human had been a pain in the rear to call up, so he was excited to finally get a good look at them. And lo and behold, a half demon child of Lord Diavolo’s butler.

MC grinned and greeted Belphie first, using his name and asking why the Avatar of Sloth was stuck up in the attic of his own home when he was supposed to be in the human world. Belphie was flabbergasted and didn’t exactly know how to respond.

He came up with a new plan quickly. Belphie didn’t exactly know how this kid’s powers worked, so he’d continue with trying to trick them into opening the attic door. Allowing Belphie to end their miserable little life and thus ruining the exchange program.

The child continued to visit Belphie up in the attic, relaying the events of what was going on, and Belphie continued to play the part of prisoner. Until one day in particular…

MC appeared in front of the door, looking a tad more unkempt than normal, they weren’t smiling their usual carefree smile either. Their eyes bore holes into Belphegor’s skull as they flared at him.

“How long have you been planning on killing me?”

MC had seen the future where they died at Belphie’s hand, and they sure as hell were not going to let him out of the attic after that. Though, they did tell Belphie about Lilith’s true fate before they left, and assured Belphie they had no reason to lie to him about something he wasn’t directly involved in.

So, Belphie did get let out of the attic eventually, and even though MC smiled and welcomed him back all the same, there would always a barrier between the two. Broken trust wasn’t easy to mend, after all.

#I just like to think that the kid just carries weapons with them in their bag #But they never use the weapons for what they’re SUPPOSED to be used for #Like- MC: Oh yea this is meant for pulling out teeth but it’s big and heavy enough that I can just clobber someone with it #obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

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keingleichgewicht · 3 years

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WERE YOU KIDDING ABOUT THE ASK GAME if not i dont have any specific lyrics in mind but i always thought the lyrics to the mill were so cool and maybe you could get some thoughts out of them? :0

YEAH GOD OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE MILL. LET’S TALK ABOUT UHHHHHHHHH [THROWS DARTBOARD]

this line. this MIGHT go on for a while so i will............ readmore

so the mill feels kind of notably different to the rest of the pafl songs, which tend to be unusually literal for lyric, either straightforward retellings of events (punch it, punk!) or character piece monologues set to plot visuals (strike 3) or both (all of them, but for instance particularly comfort zone, which is just dmitry’s horrible manifesto until it gets hijacked by a death sentence in the second verse.) the mill is a lot more like what we expect from poetry these days, which is to say it’s heavy on imagery, low on clarity, and fucking confusing!

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold on to your battered hand Rocked to sleep beneath the snow, she is bathed in youthful glow ‘Strong enough to let it go,’ he says, but darling, I don’t know

a lot of the mill is about circles. this is in the name: a mill is something which turns. a waterwheel is a circle, a grindstone is a circle. it’s even in the melody: the chorus is a cyclic, pentatonic four-note riff that keeps going up and down and up its own ladder, chasing its own tail, not really reaching resolution. and then it’s also in, you know, the story:

the meat grinder!!!! everyone’s favorite fucking hellhole!!!! it is only semi-explicitly identified in the song but that’s because it’s a concept from the source material - both tarkovsky’s stalker and roadside picnic feature the meat-grinder, as a location nicknamed thus by stalkers because it is even more fucking deadly than the rest of the zone, all of which is already ridiculously fucking deadly, and if you’ve seen the movie:

it is more or less instantly recognizable in the mill as well. so here we have a circle! here we have a mill (the title has about seventy double meanings but this is certainly one of them,) and as it turns out, this mill at least will absolutely kill you. and horribly too. interestingly though, in roadside picnic (the book) the meat-grinder is not a tunnel, and it’s not round - it’s just a nondescript patch of ground which will wring you out like a dishcloth and kill you extremely dead if you walk into it. on the other hand what we have in the book in terms of circles is the golden ball, which is the equivalent of the movie’s the room, which is, well,

in short both stories ultimately hinge upon the idea that there is a something in the zone which can give you your heart’s desire. anything you want. everything you want. whatever you want. it is infinitely powerful; it is infinitely capable. the catch is that it will only give you what you want. the catch is that giving you what you want is not the same as giving you what you are asking for. the other catch is that in both cases you have to get through the meat-grinder first.

(so, by the way, what the fuck, right? does pafl’s zone have a wish-granting factory? is it also behind the grinder? where were the original trio going when they got themselves fucked up? and did they get there?)

but the point is: the golden ball, the wish-granting factory, is also a circle. it’s just sort of a sphere. it’s a big round fuckin yellow thing. you know, sorta like:

which is THE ONLY TIME yellow is used in occam’s razor not counting the full-colour shots, and it drives me CRAZY, but it is also me going full conspiracy board so let’s not even worry about it. THE POINT IS.

the circle is the death-machine and the wish-machine. neither of these things are really.... very good. the circle, or at least the arc, is also very closely associated with death:

(розовая дуга предрассветного, ‘rose arc of pre-dawn’. if i’ve fucked up that nominative please feel free to stone me to death!)

in the gdoc notes to message lost ferry briefly refers to the dawn as if it were a good thing, the dawn of hope, which is a usage that sort of agrees with the desolate and deathless hope of strike 3′s ‘everything will pass / a day will come,’ but on the other hand it really is very closely associated with dying. nikolai bites it; nikita bites it; sergei and olga left significant chunks of themselves behind. and the thing about ‘this too shall pass’ is that it’s always true, as is ‘everything ends’, but of course that’s ‘cause the thing that ends might be you. and as we know

dawn is an ending. so that seems concerning!

i think the circle, the arc, the bolt falling back to the ground, is not a good thing. i am getting a little conspiracy board here in general but forgive me, i cannot make you a wholesome answer, my wit’s diseased. i think the circle is an enclosed space. it’s an unbroken cycle. it’s the grindstone. it’s the mill. it’s about what pafl’s always been about: about being trapped, about having no chances, about being bordered upon. the circle’s the geometric figure of equidistance from a given point, and you can walk on it forever, and nothing will ever change; you will never get closer, you will never get further away, you will never get out! the sun rises, the sun sets, and you are no closer to anything you wanted. it’s worth noting that anya’s borderline city, the zone-edge port town she complains is trying to crush all her dreams, her mill

is a circle. (a cog in a machine! a grind-wheel! a cage!)

and yura, whose dreams have already been burned out of him, who starts the series already resigned to never getting out of here, calls it ‘this dire deja-vu’, i am specifically resisting putting the accent marks back onto that, which is to say, it’s a repetition that haunts him. it’s going round and round and getting nowhere.

so if we bring it back around: drawing a line in the sand, as the phrase is generally used, means setting a border, means saying this far and no further. often it’s yourself you’re setting the border for. you hit some divide you can’t abide crossing so you say this stops here, it may be too early or too late, but i say it stops here. so logically: drawing a circle in the sand means you’ve locked yourself in completely.

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold your battered hand

the whole first half of this song, i think, is olga promising to grind herself down in a hundred ways if it means she won’t be left alone. how hard can it be to never let it overflow? she may feel lower than the low, she may wish she could just disappear out here, into the postindustrial rust, but though it gets harder all the time she will keep pretending. she isn’t going to burden sergei, or indeed anyone, with her problems, her fears, her scars. she is hurt, but she’s used to it, she’s gotten used to being haunted long ago. she keeps her bad eye covered. she stays within her circle she has drawn. she keeps going round and round. she will take the smallest sliver of human connection and be happy, she promises she will be happy, she promises she won’t ask for more, she will take just the ‘hello.’

but you knooooow it’s not true. you know it’s grinding her down, that she’ll be milled to nothing pretty soon, and really she knows it too.

i am perhaps seventy percent sure that this line is a reference to the windmills of your mind by michel legrande, which features such lines as

Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind

which on one hand seems sort of obscure to be a purposeful reference but on the other hand would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t, wouldn’t it. either way it characterizes circles ambiguously, but definitely unsettlingly. going around in circles is chasing infinity, but what in god’s name would you do with it if you caught it? what are you even hoping to accomplish? and:

the second half of this song is bitterer, sharper - staring down the mouth of the meat-grinder she’s a little more willing to admit to herself that this is going nowhere. she is running out of cages to keep herself in. she is very tired. it’s easy to say why don’t you leave it all behind, it’s easy to say, she’s strong enough to let it go, it’s easy to say, too strong to die. it is a lot harder to actually live.

this is also where the flashbacks admit to us how badly hurt they really were - sergei with his whole side in shreds, she still hides her eye but at least we get to see it’s bleeding. this moral compass is forever misaligned, she says, so there is damage, and it is lasting. and she can’t settle for hello, she can’t live like this, she needs someone by her side. the trouble is whether she can believe she has any hope of getting that

as for who ‘her’ is, or the ‘she’ of ‘she is bathed in youthful glow’, i figure there’s two possibilities: either it’s nadya, who haunts olga too, because nikita’s abandonment of nadya represents exactly what she most fears for herself, or it’s olga’s younger, unbroken, binocular self - both of whom were so young, and so easily hurt, and are now unfindable.

and then there’s this conclusion: ‘the sun will rise, until then / i’ll be waiting for you on the other side.’ which maybe is a sort of hope after all? she’s reached no real conclusions in the zone - she knows there must be hope but she can only barely believe in it - she thinks she is destined to self-destruct. but on the other hand she still has that, a version of sergei’s own ‘a day will come’

you may be hurt, but if you can hold yourself together, you can hope for a dawn someday. an ending. a change. but the trouble’s that there’s more than one kind of ending. and there’s more than one meaning for other side. there are cages, and then there are cages. and you know what else looks like a tunnel, a circle?

staring down the barrel of the gun.

#pafl #parties are for losers #it speaks #ask #in all fairness and in my defence when i made the joke i said i would write not less than one thousand words and by fuck #this has not been less than one thousand words!#jorgyjuice #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ALSO THIS WAS REALLY FUN #and thank you VERY dearly to anyone who takes the time to read all this; you own my soul now; feel free to collect at any time #metatext

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luvdsc · 4 years

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too hot! hot damn!

what do you get when you mix red and blue together?

pairing :: lee taeyong x reader genre :: fluff / boyfriend au word count :: 2,121 words warnings :: a tiny paragraph about making out playlist :: cherry kisses (chungha) ⋆ daft pretty boys (bad suns) ⋆ hands on me (taeyeon) ⋆ crash my car (coin) ⋆ shy (hunny) author’s note :: to the insanely talented goddess who wrote the first nct fic i ever read nearly 3 years ago and still love to this day!!! i didn’t think i’d ever get to be friends with one of my favoritest writers on here, but here we are :’) ily els @taeyongtime ♡

“It’s hot.”

You’re draped across the old, yet still very plush couch, the kitschy pattern spread across it now fondly regarded as one of the things that transforms this dingy little place from a shoebox apartment into home. The thin spaghetti strap of your faded tie-dyed tank top from your old sorority days hangs limply off of your shoulder, threatening to fall even more when you slump over to the left. The simple drawstring shorts you have on barely cover your legs, but you contemplate tossing them off still because it’s just. So. Damn. Hot.

“It’s hot!” you whine even louder, throwing your arms up in the air before letting them flop down onto the cushions dramatically. The nearby open window only blows in a measly little breeze that does nothing except dry the sweat on your skin for a few glorious seconds before it reappears like a stubborn stain. Your boyfriend only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the floor, sprawled out in front of said window and using one of his Nylon magazines as a makeshift fan.

Taeyong agrees, flapping the glossy pages in front of his face desperately. “It’s too hot.”

Two days consisting of barely surviving the power outage creeps into a third, the prospect of having AC again anytime soon becoming extremely bleak. The transformer had completely blown out, and the electric company finally sent out a crew to fix it earlier this morning. The estimated restoration was initially set to noon, but it was pushed back until 3 p.m., then 6 p.m., then 10 p.m., then 5 a.m., and now the big black bolded letters spelling out “undetermined” mocks you from the screen of your phone that's already set to the lowest brightness setting to conserve battery.

To make it worse, your city was suffering a heat wave, temperatures spiking to 105 degrees Fahrenheit every single day and simmering down to 80 during the night before climbing the thermostat again. The raging thunderstorm that plagued last night only resulted in unexpected humidity, making your clothes stick to you like a second skin.

“Make it less hot,” you moan, blowing air upwards towards your forehead in an attempt to cool down in the slightest way possible.

“I can’t control the weather, babe, but I can get you a popsicle?” Taeyong sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position to face you. The shiny magazine in his hand still flounders around until he gives up on it and tosses it aside.

You turn your head, cheek pressing into the couch cushion, as you squint at him. “We don’t have any left. We took all our food from the fridge to Doyoung’s place. I can’t believe that bastard has a gigantic generator and is flourishing in his stupid air conditioned apartment and making frozen sangrias, while his best friends are about to die from heatstroke.”

You had sent back a rather crass Snapchat back to Doyoung after he sent one earlier of his perfect, Instagram story worthy, iced alcoholic beverage. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t toss your beloved brown sugar boba ice cream bars out onto his pristine balcony with picture perfect potted plants to perish. That man can still hold onto a grudge even after he’s on his deathbed and descending into the fiery pits.

Taeyong stands up and slowly ambles towards the refrigerator. “I saved two popsicles in the freezer. I figured it’d stay cold enough and not melt if we ate them soon.”

“Oh my god, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position before finally being able to, watching your boyfriend open the freezer and pull out the last two saving graces.

“Do you want blue raspberry or cherry?”

He holds out the two icy sweets in front of you, one in each hand. You already know that he secretly wants the red one; it’s been his favorite ever since he was five and tried his very first one from the ice cream truck that still comes around his parents’ neighborhood. But you also know that he always lets you choose first and wouldn’t complain if you take that one.

You reach out and pluck the blue one from his grasp, and he smiles happily, eyes crinkling in the corners as he eagerly unwraps the cherry flavored one and shoves it in his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the nearby wicker trash basket.

He drops down onto the empty space next to you, reclining back and slouching in his seat. The two of you sit there peacefully, side by side and enjoying the cold snacks, until he wordlessly slides over, pressing the side of his arm and leg against yours.

“Move back,” you complain, shoving him over to his original position. “It’s hot, and you’re making it worse.”

“So are you calling me hot?” Taeyong wriggles his eyebrows at you before taking a bite of his popsicle, much to your horror. He moves closer to you again for the sole sake of annoying you.

“First off, I’m calling you sweaty. Secondly, did you just bite your ice cream?” You throw him a dirty look before moving over and turning to sit with your back against the arm rest, throwing your legs over his lap.

Taeyong slightly pouts at you, munching on yet another chunk of his popsicle and ignoring the way you wrinkle your nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with that? It’s melting, and I don’t want it to drip and get my hand all sticky.”

You can’t believe that you just discovered your boyfriend is a psychopath. He’s going to the same circle of hell as people who pour milk in before cereal and those who hate mint chocolate chip ice cream once he leaves this earth (He can even say hi to Doyoung as he descends to eternal damnation).

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before we started dating?” You are absolutely appalled. Horrified. Disgusted. This is the biggest relationship deal breaker you have ever come across.

“Next, you’re gonna say you hate me because I don’t like pineapple on pizza,” he says as his free hand settles on the top of your thigh, gently tapping rhythmically against it absentmindedly.

“Oh my god, you absolute heathen.” You really thought Taeyong was the perfect man of your dreams, but you unfortunately realize belatedly that even he has flaws. Some inexcusable ones, in fact.

In the midst of your lamenting, you fail to notice melting sugar slowly trickling down until it leaves a sticky mess all over your hand. Desperately, you toss the empty popsicle stick into the nearby waste basket before licking off the remnants of your icy blue treat from your fingers.

“See? It melted all over you. I told you so,” Taeyong childishly sticks out his tongue as he waves his clean hand and empty popsicle stick around as if to emphasize his point.

“Your tongue’s red,” you say, chuckling slightly, and his eyes widen at this newfound revelation.

“Wait, stick out your tongue,” he demands as he throws away the wooden stick, and you comply with his request. He grins, delighted. “Yours is blue!”

He sticks out his tongue again, almost going cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of his own. At that, your eyes zero in on his cherry stained lips, and an ingenious idea pops up in your mind as the sudden urge to kiss your boyfriend silly makes itself very known.

“Hey, wanna play a game, Yongie?” you ask slyly, and his attention immediately turns to you at the word “game,” interest piqued and eyes fixated on you.

“What kind of game?” he inquires cautiously, taking note of the mischievous glimmer in your eyes. You look like you’re up to no good, and your boyfriend wouldn’t be surprised if you have something up your metaphorical sleeve (Because nobody sane enough would be wearing something with sleeves in this weather from hell. In fact, you’re 66.6% percent certain that those fiery pits are probably cooler compared to here).

“Too hot.”

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledges, shaking his head in agreement, and you laugh, fanning yourself with your hands. “No, silly, I meant the game.”

“It’s called ‘too hot’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you confirm, nodding your head. The expression of skepticism on his face says it all, so you throw in your bargaining chip.

“I hid a chocolate bar in the freezer’s ice chest. The winner can have it.”

His doe eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite sweet, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Okay, how do I play?”

“We kiss,” you start, and he’s already pulling you towards him enthusiastically, causing soft laughter to bubble up from your throat, before you swat his hands away. “Hey, hey, hey, I wasn’t done explaining it yet! There’s no touching allowed.”

“That’s no fun,” Taeyong whines, lips jutting out into a tiny pout that you want to kiss away already. “You said this is a game. Games are supposed to be fun.”

“But you’re getting kisses, and it’s already hot so it’s better this way,” you coax, and he relents with a drawn out sigh, and you quietly cheer. “Okay, ready?”

Taeyong gives you a tiny nod, and you grin before leaning in, eyes fluttering close. You gently place your lips against his, and he holds still. But then, a few seconds later, you feel his fingers barely grazing your cheek, and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“Baby, I told you that you can’t touch!”

“That rule is dumb,” he complains, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. You frown at him, pouting until he gives in again because it’s you and he’d cross oceans and climb mountains for you.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he grumbles, glowering as he absentmindedly cards his hand through his hair, and you positively beam at him, and the sulking expression on his face softens almost instantly.

“What if we do baby steps first?” You pull your legs up onto the couch, sitting up on your knees and facing him. He fully turns to look at you, head cocked to one side.

“What do you mean?”

You lean forward and peck his cheek before moving back to your original position. “Like that. Now your turn.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Taeyong leans forward and gingerly places a kiss on your forehead with an endearing smile. You inch forward and kiss his other cheek. He plants a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, and you lean in to delicately leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and you do the same to the opposite side, much to his utter frustration.

This time, Taeyong chases after you when you pull away. You let out a noise of surprise as he gently tugs you forward, crashing his lips against yours and muffling your laughter, and you find yourself straddling your boyfriend. Your hands wind up tangled in his hair, while his arms lock around your waist and hold you close, game be damned.

You can taste a faint trace of cherry, causing the corners of your mouth to curl into the minutest hint of a smile before you press your mouth against his more firmly as he kisses you back eagerly until you both run out of air, pulling away breathlessly with identical smiles.

“You lost,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger as your other hand curls around his shirt. He makes a face at you, his hands still resting on your waist, and you find that you don’t mind the warmth of them against your skin even in this ruthlessly blazing weather.

“But you’ll share the chocolate, right?” he mumbles, face still flushed and lips redder than before. He traces soft patterns against your hip as you tilt your head to the side, faking your hesitation.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should I? I won fair and square.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Meanie.”

You laugh, sliding off his lap and onto the empty seat next to him (albeit a little unwillingly, but it’s still hot as hell unfortunately, and conserving body heat together isn’t helping at all). Your boyfriend frowns, mostly because you’re no longer sitting in his lap, but partly because he doesn’t understand why you’re laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Your grin widens, eyes sparkling like you know something he doesn’t (because you do). “Baby, your tongue’s purple.”

Taeyong turns a shade brighter than his favorite popsicle flavor.

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dodgefred · 3 years

Note

do you have any ideas as to how you would direct abh/certain scenes if you had the chance

short answer: yes

long answer:

i think overall i would do similar things from mcc because the directing in mcc was exquisite and jessie nelson did a wonderful job, but i would also incorporate some other elements into the show like having an ensemble onstage at all times, having the ensemble integrated into the set like the spring awakening revival does, and i would want everything to feel much more intimate. mcc already does a great job with the intimacy but i really would want to expand on that feeling and make the audience feel as if they’re a member of the bunker listening to this story too.

another thing i would keep is the parallels between bunker visuals and wonderland concepts, like the gas mask flamingos. i would like to expand on this, though, and make the parallels used in the costumes much more noticeable.

the plot structure of alice by heart, in my mind, is alice spencer telling the story of alfred’s death (whether she realizes it or not). i’d have alice begin and end the show reading her book. the music of west of words would begin as soon as alice opens to page one, and the sirens wouldn’t get introduced until after her first verse. this lets us get introduced to alice as a character before we’re introduced to her situation. this also should be the only time alice is alone onstage, and the stage would be bare.

after the siren, the rest of the ensemble would run onstage with furniture and build the bunker in a flurry of bodies and chaos surrounding alice. alfred would run in front of alice before running to his cot, and the rest of this scene would proceed with alice still standing in the middle of all of the chaos around her. her book is still open in her hands. she is our narrator.

my next major point of change would be with down the hole. the bunker kids changing into their wonderland forms would be more clear, and would feature more dramatic onstage quick changes during each of their respective verses or lines. instead of alice twirling into her blue dress, she manipulates the rest of the cast into changing themselves. i don’t think alice would change into her blue dress until alfred sings his “down and down we fall” verse. alfred would playfully remind her to change herself, too. they’re best friends and have played this game countless times and we need to show it onstage. also i think alfred deserves to wear rabbit ears. that’s all.

an alternative decision would be alice starting the show in her blue dress in order to represent how she’s constantly with “[her] head in wonderland.”

i think mcc didn’t do enough with still. a bit of a spoiler for later is that i really want to keep the lobster dance, or at least something similar to it. however, i’d introduce it in still rather than in those long eyes. i’d introduce it as an overarching theme of their relationship. just like wonderland, the lobster dance is something they do quite often; often enough for alfred to know how to do it even when he isn’t fully paying attention. in still, alfred would still try to be evading the discussion and escape alice’s grasp, but she’d try and do their dance together. they don’t finish the dance before the end of the song.

the only major change i would make to chillin the regrets is i’d have the caterpillars lay down more for the scene before. they can get up and do fun choreo with alice afterwards (during the song) but i think she should work more for the attention they give her (during the scene), like alice has to in the original story. they should definitely be more apathetic towards her at first. i’d also like to introduce some sort of dance motif in chillin that alice echoes to alfred in the key is when she tries to get him to smoke. in chillin, i also think it would be cool if there was a smoke machine onstage making the stage as foggy as alice’s head is. if she as our narrator doesn’t know what’s going on, how are we supposed to? i think the smoke can fade for the key is, because we actually need to see that one for the plot, but i think even so there could be some sort of playing with shadows and silhouettes that would be really cool.

i think the bird scene would be really fun with puppetry! the puppets could be made out of items that would only be found in the bunker, like the same fabric the cots are made of, buttons that match the ones on the characters’ clothes, and the gas mask beaks. the birds would just be so much fun as puppets. skipping ahead a bit here, but i also think the duchess in manage your flamingo should have a pig puppet to reference the original a bit more closely.

as mentioned earlier, those long eyes would have a dance motif that would continue throughout the show, and i think while the dance in those long eyes lasted longer than it did in still, it still should be cut off by the sirens and shouldn’t be complete. alice still doesn’t have closure for their relationship by this point, so the dance shouldn’t either.

for most of the show, the cheshire puss should be hooded and perched on an upper platform whenever shes giving alice advice. when alice wont listen to her, she finally snaps and sings some things fall away. she gets on alice’s level and finally reveals her face.

i don’t have many more specific ideas until the end because most of the songs in the middle chunk of the show are just alice running around wonderland and i’m not a choreographer so i’m not really sure what i’d do exactly with these. but i do want to bring up the jabberwocky. i’m obsessed with what mcc does by making alice’s fear of the doctor and the soldiers physical, but i think we could take brillig braellig as an opportunity to bring back the puppets. i think it could be an entirely dark stage except for alice and the jabberwocky. the jabberwocky can be made entirely of white fabric and have images of war and alice’s other fears and traumas projected onto him. the stage can be lit from below so we get some interesting shadows. if we want to incorporate something like mcc did with butridge literally being the jabberwocky, he can be dressed in all white as well and have the puppet follow him around the stage to have more physical interaction with alice. in this scene, i imagine the puppet being pretty big so the ensemble’s place onstage would be helping in puppeteering so the stage would feel emptier than it actually is.

i’m obsessed with the falling rose petals and the coughing before another room in your head in mcc but i think that part could really benefit from some modifications. instead of them being in an empty stage, i think there could be a carpet of white roses beneath them and soap blood could literally come from alfred all over them and all over him. the roses aren’t the only roses in that scene.

in i’ve shrunk enough, i think it would be cool for the characters to go up in a puff of smoke and exit out of a trap door in the stage when alice poofs them out of existence. alice should be the only one poofing everyone away, as she is our narrator. i also think there could be a moment where alfred quickly runs backstage and changes back into his original hospital gown for the final scenes. (in terms of logistics i think the hospital gown could stay beneath his white rabbit costume so he’s able to more quickly change). when he returns onstage, it should be the end of the song. in the vassar reading, at the end of i’ve shrunk enough, alfred says “time’s up” after the final notes of the song. i would want to bring that back. alfred says it as he returns onstage, and the lighting suddenly shifts to two spotlights — one on alice and one on alfred — that merge as the two get closer throughout the next scene.

in afternoon, we bring back the lobster dance. this should be the only time the dance comes to a close. alice isn’t ready for alfred to die, but she’s a hell of a lot more ready than she was during still. she can continue doing the dance by herself after alfred leaves.

after alfred leaves the stage, alice also picks up the book. throughout the show it was probably left downstage in one of the corners of the stage, so here alice picks it back up and finishes it on alfred’s cot. the spotlight follows and doesn’t disperse to reveal the rest of the ensemble until the final notes of the song when alice finally closes the book.

throughout winter blooms, the characters should dismantle the bunker like they brought it on in the beginning. they each change into their wonderland costumes once again (or at least bits and pieces of them, since winter blooms is a pretty quick song, but i doubt their wonderland costumes are too drastically different from their bunker costumes regardless) throughout the rest of the song. at the very end, i’d have alice come centerstage once more, standing in the same place she was during alfred’s death. she’d sing to an empty stage, for the most part, until her final “and there you are.” alfred comes onstage (whether he comes onstage himself or he’s brought up through the stage on a lift or a turntable, i don’t know) in his white rabbit costume once again, and alice pulls him into an embrace as the stage fades to black once more.

#can u tell ive thought about this a lot #alice by heart #answered #anon #this wasn’t proofread sorry if it’s bad

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castieltrash1 · 4 years

Text

dangerous territory → clint b.

gif credit (x)

summary → clint stays behind during a mission, leaving you alone with him in the avengers building. seeing him sprawled out on the comfy lounge room couch gives you some naughty ideas -- only adding to the tension your relationship already has.

word count → 6.7k (literally wtf)

warnings → i ignore the entirety of iw/endgame except for clint’s makeover, extreme sexual tension, smut; switch!fem!reader, switch!clint, couch sex, oral (both recieving), fingering, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise

a/n → literally idk if i should be ashamed or not but im Horny 4 Hawkeye!!! oopsie !! also there are like .3 smut fics for him on here and im determined to fix that

---

Quiet was not a word you’d use to describe the Avengers Facility.

In fact, with Steve’s loud orders, Bruce’s lab explosions, and Sam’s boisterous laughter -- not to mention the never-ending petty arguments that managed to revert the Avengers to 11th graders in their first debate club -- it was the farthest thing from quiet.

But, now, with zero disagreements and zero distractions, you’d been able to enjoy the building all to yourself. Almost. Of course, the one time you got to avoid a mission, you ended up falling into an even worse situation.

You’d covered for Wanda last mission, and she’d insisted on paying you back for the newest one. It wasn’t high stakes by any means, but the work itself had countless components and everyone who was nearby -- or at least on the planet -- had been called in to fill some role.

Everyone, of course, except you. And Clint.

Suddenly the idea of being stuck in the Quinjet with everyone’s post-mission moodiness sounded very appealing. You could feel a headache growing as you wandered around the kitchen, doing anything and everything in your power to avoid him. He was not supposed to be here. Hell, he didn’t even like stepping foot in the place unless the world was in immediate danger.

Of course, you weren’t the only one to notice his odd attitude. Natasha gave him a confused look when he mentioned staying behind, but decidedly hadn’t commented, almost like she’d already pieced together the reason for Clint’s actions. Knowing her, she probably had. But, even Wanda shot a glance that worried you -- though you seemed to be the only one to catch her squinted green gaze before it disappeared. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what she saw in his mind.

Sure, you had a couple of ideas as to why he would choose to isolate himself with you, but you tried to not let those thoughts consume you. The others wouldn’t be back till midday tomorrow -- if all went well -- and you were not about to spend the next 36 hours soaking your panties with stupid fantasies.

Unfortunately, even when ignoring Clint, your mind was still focused on him. When you passed by the gym or shooting range, antsy to get your daily work in, one quick thought of seeing Clint’s arms -- tensed as he loaded his bow, muscles straining and eyes focused on his target -- was enough to have you quickly walking in the opposite direction.

But, now, as you make your way into the lounge to relax, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You have just as much of a right as Clint does to walk around whenever and wherever you please. In all honesty, you feel even more entitled considering you’re the one actually living in the tower (at least most of the time.)

He’s exactly where you expect him to be -- he may be fast and quiet on his feet, but you’ve been keeping tabs on him, for your own sake.

It’s a bit odd seeing a book instead of a bow in his hands, but you’re not entirely sure you should be focused on how his fingers wrap around the thin pages, thumbing the corners so gently--

“Done avoiding me, are you?”

Well, shit.

His gaze remains on his book -- though the very few pages he’s turned assures you he’s not paying attention to whatever riveting story Tony has stocked his shelves with.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. There’s a moment of temptation to take a seat next to him on the couch, as close as possible. To feel his strong arms around you, smell the raw masculine cologne he always wears a bit too much of -- heavy on his neck and sharp jaw that you know your lips could curl around so perfectly if given the chance.

You swallow heavily and take a seat in the chair across from him, sinking into the expensive fabric.

“Tony picks good furniture, right?” Clint sighs, book closing without so much as a dog-ear mark as he leans back.

It’s silent for a second, and you’re entirely sure you’ve missed a part of the conversation during your mini black-out, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, waiting patiently for your answer. You consider it a small win and accept the change in topic with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah. Didn’t think price made such a big difference.” There’s a firmness to the chair that keeps you from sinking, and mentally, you consider if it’d be strong enough for other activities. “How much you wanna bet he spent on each of these chairs?” you question, genuinely curious. “I gotta guess at least two grand.”

Clint’s cool eyes glint playfully. “Three,” he challenges with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. “Though, you should really try this couch. Definitely my favorite thing here.”

There’s just a hint of suggestion in his tone -- the kind that you’d miss if you weren’t trained in reading people. It’s not unexpected, though. You’d have to be a fool to not recognize the exact same longing stares, the same lingering touches that Clint offers you. But, that’s what makes it all more intimidating. It’s an unspoken thing, and at this point, that’s what feels most convenient -- even if your lonely nights spent moaning his name are growing far too common for comfort.

Still, you can’t exactly ignore him, and his eyes follow you closely as you make your way to the couch, falling into the comfy cushions with a huff.

“Wow.” You laugh. “No wonder you’ve been spending so much time down here.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “So you have been paying me some attention. Interesting.”

If he notices you shift as far to the other end of the couch as possible, he doesn’t mention it.

“Don’t take it personally, Barton,” you huff. “I’m used to keeping an eye on everyone around here.” It’s not entirely a lie, but he manages to see right through the half-truth regardless.

“So you avoid everyone, then?” There’s no hurt or misunderstanding in his voice, not even confusion. He knows what you’re doing, knows why you can’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the couch.

He just chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach clench unconsciously. You expect him to keep pressing you, work you up until you spill your guts, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even say a word as you hear the rustling of paper and feel the couch move slightly as he shifts.

You turn your head towards him and open one eye, then both as they go wide. Clint has taken on a whole new level of comfortable, feet perched on the coffee table and one arm resting on the back of the couch while his free hand flips through the same first few pages as before.

In all honesty, you suddenly find yourself happy that Steve and Tony are gone -- otherwise they’d be scolding Clint for his manners, and most definitely not ogling his firm legs in those tight, black jeans.

You drag your gaze back up his body, stopping near the hem of his shirt, where his new position has allowed for the fabric to ride up his stomach. It’s just a sliver of skin but the image is enough to make your heart race. There’s a faint dip in the muscled hip line leading to his jeans, and if you stare extra hard, you can see the light trail of thin hairs disappearing under the fabric.

Swallowing heavily, you quickly look back at Clint’s face, holding back a gasp as he stares back at you.

“So,” you fill the silence before he can, mentally thanking Natasha for her training on keeping your composure. “How’s that book of yours?”

Clint just grins for a second -- you both know he’s caught you. “It’s alright. Not the most interesting thing in the building right now, though.”

You gulp. “Yeah… The place is big. Lots to explore. I don’t think I’ve even seen every room--”

“I have a feeling you know that’s not what I mean,” Clint cuts you off with a chuckle, and you send him a challenging glare.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you scoff.

He hums, before his tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip. “You’re sounding awfully like a broken record today.” His icy, pale eyes return to his book, and you watch as he lifts his thumb to his wet lips, tongue darting out the lick the tip. You can practically feel the action, and almost whine in disappointment when his hand returns to flip the page.

Clint is downright grinning at this point, and you know he’s taking in every breath, shift, and blink of yours. “But, I know you’re not actually confused,” he continues. “In fact, I’d argue you like this game of ours a bit more than you should.”

You know if you brush it off again, he’ll drop it. He’s too nice to make you uncomfortable, and his statement hangs in the air with a heavy weight.

“You know, Barton?” you shift from your spot on the couch, eliminating a good chunk of the space between you and him. “I think you’re smarter than most people give you credit for.” He raises a brow, and you would believe his undisturbed look if you didn’t see his fingers twitch against the spine of the forgotten book.

“Tell Nat that,” he jokes, and you grin. Seeing that little crack in his facade, the way he fills the conversation with a joke, the discreet but heavy swallow he tries to hide -- it’s all enough to power you to move closer, until there are mere centimeters between you two.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be telling Natasha anything from this conversation of ours.” Keeping your attention on the slight tense of his jaw, you push the book from his hands, and he immediately drops his feet from the table to discard it in their place.

You pause for a second, glancing at Clint’s lap then back at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab your hip.

“Get over here already,” he groans, both arms wrapping around your waist to situate you in his lap. His hands are warm and firm and everything you could have ever imagined, and you automatically roll your hips down onto him. There’s a pleased moan from you both, and his own hips jolt in a way that sends you even closer to him, until your chests are touching.

He immediately dives for your neck, scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he breathes you in deeply. “I gotta admit,” he murmurs, letting his lips graze the bottom of your jaw in the most sinful way, “you look so much better sitting here than standing around in the kitchen.”

You drag your fingers through the long hair on the back of his head, tugging it playfully. “You’ve been watching me, Barton?”

He hums, squeezing you just as teasingly. “I do a lot of staring when it comes to you, babe.”

You pull him from your neck by his hair, and he looks up at you with the most mischievous glint in his eyes. The nickname makes you undeniably flustered, but you force the embarrassment away.

“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s what you call creepy,” you mumble, leaning down so Clint can feel your words against his own lips. He immediately darts forward, but you pull back with a sly grin, watching his eyes darken at the action.

“I think,” he growls, catching you off guard as he pushes you back onto the couch, making you jostle as you try not to fall off the edge. He steadies you with a large hand, and you only jolt again when he uses his free hand to spread your legs, caging you in as his hips drop between your parted thighs. “You’d be a hypocrite for saying that.” He drops back to your neck, and you can feel his smile before his teeth sink into your skin lightly -- just enough to make you gasp.

He continues to litter your neck with kisses, and you watch in awe as his toned arm tenses by the side of your head -- the thick black lines of ink rolling as his muscles flex.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, back arching as his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to right below your chin. “You gonna fuck me?”

Clint bites the edge of your jaw in retaliation to your words, before he pulls back just enough to stare at you with a lustful gaze.

“Not yet, baby. Not that easily.” One of his hands trails up the front of your thigh, before it busies itself with the hem of your shirt. You try to hide your disappointment, but Clint notices it, of course, and just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you leave this couch anytime soon. You’ve made me wait long enough for this… I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, and you hungrily reach and tug until he’s as close as possible -- until you can feel the denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your thighs as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. It’s messy and entirely uncalculated, and your nails catch in the wrinkles of the back of his shirt while his own fingers tug impatiently at the bottom of yours.

You part from him for a second, and his own greedy mouth follows yours, only managing to press against the side of your lips. “You act like you’ve made this easy for me,” you retort, and his chest rumbles against yours as he chuckles.

“Oh honey, I think I’ve made it quite obvious I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day you walked in here.”

“Clearly, not obvious enough.”

Clint huffs, warm breath hitting your cheek. “What’d you want me to do? Huh?” He shifts so his words make their way directly to your ear, each syllable accentuated with a puff of hot air. With him this close, neck just below your nose, you can take in the heavy smell of that sharp cologne you love so much.

His calloused fingers dip beneath your shirt, but instead of the obvious trail up, his hand trails down to play with the hem of your shorts. “Tug these little things off in front of everyone? Show them all how worked up you get me wearing these? Is that what you want?”

Your hips lift in a silent plea, and you groan. “They’re comfortable.”

“Maybe for you, but I find myself very uncomfortable when you wear them.” He snickers, and if you weren’t so turned on, you’re sure you’d roll your eyes. Only Clint Barton could make a joke about untimely hard-ons during a time like this.

“Then why don’t you take them off?” you groan, and he shakes his head while muttering something about you being bossy.

Still, his words betray him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, as slowly as possible while his eyes drink in the new area of exposed skin. “What part about taking my time with you did you not understand?” The corner of his lips tug in that mischievous way of his, and you have a sneaking feeling his patience is as fleeting as your own.

Proving your point, Clint tosses your shorts over the back of the couch with a grin, then pushes you further up the cushions. You’re almost sitting, shoulder blades knocking the arm of the sofa while your legs bend at the knee to accompany Clint, who scoots back. It’s the perfect and most disastrous angle to be at as you have to both feel and watch his deft fingers trail up from your knee.

You’re a hundred percent sure the effects of your arousal are extremely obvious, but he doesn’t comment on the wet patch of your panties -- though you see his eyes focus on the area between your legs for a second too long before his gaze flickers back to your thighs.

His calloused fingers trail the edge of fabric around your legs, rough skin providing a type of friction you can’t begin to explain. His touch is fleeting and he changes the amount of pressure with every swipe of his thumb, always pushing just enough to let you know he’s holding you down. That you can’t escape him -- as if you’d even think of trying to do so.

“Your legs are so sexy, you know that?”

You let out some type of pleased whine, a sound that Clint relishes as he tightens his grip on your thighs. “Make the prettiest sounds, too,” he continues, and then his fingers are right there. One hand holds your left leg down, while the other covers your panty-covered core. His thumb rubs into your desperate, throbbing clit, and you use your little amount of freedom to push your hips up, wanting, needing more.

Clint immediately presses you back down, and you watch his tattoos shift just slightly as he adds more weight to his hand on your thigh.

“Please, please.” You revert to begging at your lack of movement, losing all shame in regard to your desire. It’s obvious you need Clint -- any excuses or lies from before long forgotten. You need his movements to speed up, the slow circles of his thumb providing barely enough friction.

He just chuckles, but relents a little and you downright purr as the thin fabric of your underwear drags against your tingling nerve endings. It’s impossible to move under Clint’s weight, but all the muscles in your lower half flex and twitch as they desperately search for release and relief.

“How about…” Clint trails off, fingers moving upward to grab the waistline of your panties, “we get these off?”

You’re sure if you nod any faster you might make yourself dizzy, and Clint just smirks in that knowing way. That way that lets you know he has you right where he wants you. Right where he’s been waiting to have you.

The article of clothing is soon flung behind his shoulder just like your forgotten shorts -- and you can only faintly remind yourself to make sure you grab everything before the others return. Though, at this point, you think anyone could walk in on Clint between your legs and you’d still be begging him to make you cum -- audience or not.

“Fucking Christ,” Clint groans, palms sliding between your thighs to spread them, giving him a full view of your glistening core. “I swear, you’re gonna kill me.” Seeing his flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and greedy fingers, you’re not sure you can reject that statement.

He removes his hands for just a second, but you don’t dare close your legs, and he has the audacity to wink. Before your mind can even process the action, though, he’s pulling his shirt off, arms crossing over his chest as they show off in their full glory. Hips, stomach, chest, arms -- they’re all exposed so quickly and your eyes drink in the features as fast as they can. Clint throws the shirt to the side -- you have a feeling he’s utilizing his perfect aim to create a clothing pile -- but you just stare at his shoulder, where the ink spreads to areas you’ve never had the chance to see before. The olive green accents contrast against his tanned skin, which has gained a light sheen from the sweat of his arousal.

As he leans back down, Ronin’s portrait stares you dead in the eyes -- quite literally. If you didn’t know the deeper meaning, you’re sure you could mistake the skull as a danger warning to the man pressing a kiss against the inside of your knee.

Short hairs chafe your legs as Clint makes himself comfortable, pressing his jaw against you. When his hot breath dances over your center you almost squeeze your thighs together, but he’s there to push them apart with a chuckle.

“No, no…” He pulls away barely, and you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re gonna give me what I want, ok?” His fingers are gentle, and so are his eyes when he glances up to you. He’s hopeful, pleading almost, but stays respectful. “If that’s ok, of course.”

You almost want to cry, because how could he think any differently, but you just nod. “Please Clint, touch me.”

He sends you a lopsided grin, and then he’s right there, pressing a kiss against your clit. The feeling is completely different from before, lips slick and soft unlike his rough thumb. All the air in your lungs leaves your body as you let out a sigh of relief, body finally relaxing as it gets the touch it needs.

You reach down and your nails scratch his scalp lightly before you grip his hair in a tight hold. He nuzzles against your hand and groans against you, and the feeling of control makes your blood run hot through your veins. One of the most powerful men on Earth is between your legs, sucking softly on your clit like it's the only thing he could ever want.

He traces circles on your thighs with his coarse fingers as he warms you up with gentle licks and the occasional curl of his lips around your most sensitive area. You let him have the satisfaction of your spread thighs, but you periodically tug on his tousled locks to remind him that he’s the one between your legs. It’s the perfect balance of dominance -- the type that makes your head spin and your eyes roll back into your head.

Clint presses another kiss to your clit before traveling lower and the intimacy of the action makes your skin flush. You can tell he’s not going to be holding back for much longer though, if the desperation of his descent is any indication. His fingers join his attack as he spreads your folds, tongue dragging the entirety of your core.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” he mutters, mouth impatient as he covers as much skin as he can at once. It’s fast and downright dirty as he presses his tongue into you, eliciting a groan from your parted, panting lips. You’re dripping at this point, and he laps up the mix of saliva and arousal with a yearning thirst.

It’s all so overwhelming. His fingers are digging into your skin -- likely to leave faint marks -- and the scruff framing his jaw scrapes and leaves your skin burning, while the softer locks between your fingers are a comfort to steady you.

The heat building in your body is entirely unbelievable, and your back digs into the couch as you arch into Clint, desperate for all he’ll be willing to give you. You press him closer, and he moans at the power in your hands -- the control you have despite him hovering over you. It’s a mental trip for you both, your stomach and pelvic muscles clenching as they react to his generous, eager giving.

“God, Clint, gonna cum.” The words barely feel like they’re coming from your own body, jaw slack as you tremble in his hold. His index finger presses into you slowly, while his thumb replaces his tongue on your clit. The change of stimulation has you reeling, your grip on Clint loosening as you feel his warm words against you.

“Kinda the point, sweetheart.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you know Clint is smirking -- you can practically hear it in his voice.

His finger curls to press against your front wall, and he rubs it gently once, twice, before he lets the digit drag out, sinking in again even slower. The leisurely thrusts continue as his tongue returns to circle your clit, his cocky words from before silenced as he puts his mouth to work. Your breath grows heavier, heart rate increasing with every second. His middle finger joins the first with a steady push, and you clench desperately as they curl and press and rub and reduce you to nothing but putty.

You’re right there and Clint knows it -- somehow he knows it. His fingers move faster, harder, and his lips wrap around your clit with even greater determination. There’s a shift, fingertips grazing the perfect spot as he sucks desperately and it’s over. You’re crying out his name, thighs shaking and you clench and flutter around his never-ceasing fingers. There’s a moment where all senses leave you and all you can feel is Clint, and the spread of warmth between your legs. Your ears ring and your own moans become faint background sounds.

And then, you’re pulling his head back, his tongue still trying to work your sensitive clit. He fights your tug on his hair but you must be begging because he finally relents with a huff. You can hear his breathing, and you feel his shift as he leans back over you, fingers still working you through your high.

“Look at me,” he demands, and his free hand drags down your cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes.” He forcefully grabs your chin, and your eyes open too quickly for your mind to process. It’s all so bright and you have to blink away the splotches of color coating your vision. Clint takes up the entirety of your view, lips wet and eyes dark. “There you go, baby.” He’s grinning and panting and his fingers are still fucking moving.

You whimper and glance down -- as much as his grip on your jaw will allow -- and the view of his tattooed arm between your thighs, veins pulsing as he fingers you is imprinted in your mind permanently. It’s a never-ending high that goes on for a second too long before Clint finally, finally eases his fingers from you. They’re practically dripping with your release, and he wastes no time bringing them to his glossy mouth.

It’s hypnotic to watch as his lips close around his fingers, nostrils flaring as he sucks them eagerly. They come out clean, and his chest rumbles with a groan. “Can’t get enough of your taste. Fuck.”

It takes a second for you to catch your breath, chest heaving and shirt clinging to sweaty skin. But, there’s finally a moment where your legs feel somewhat solid, and you take advantage of the opportunity, bending your leg to put the bottom of your foot on Clint’s bare chest.

He shoots you a confused but intrigued look, and you respond with a lopsided grin as you push him backward, until he’s the one stumbling to find a spot against the arm of the couch. Faintly, you consider the move would be much sexier with a pair of heels digging into his skin, but this will have to suffice for now. Maybe next time -- if there is a next time, of course.

“Now, what are you up to, baby girl?” Clint is practically vibrating with excitement as you gather the strength to push yourself off the couch, ignoring the slight twitch of your exerted thighs.

“Take your pants off,” you say, with little shame. “Now.”

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone get undressed so quickly and the hastiness of Clint’s actions leave him with very little coordination. It takes him three tries to get his belt undone, and he pokes himself with the metal prong when his eyes return to glance at you.

Raising a brow, you put your hands on your hips, and he speeds up. The button and zipper take him twice as long, but the sound when he finally tosses his belt and jeans off to the side is well worth the wait.

He licks his lips, looking up at you -- waiting, watching. Your earlier thoughts regarding his legs are heightened tenfold as you take in his toned thighs and hard cock in-between. He’s thick, the bulge pressing against his boxer-briefs making your heart skip a beat. The mere idea of him stretching you open has you growing too impatient for what you have planned.

“Keep going.” You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t sound too shaky.

Clint’s quick fingers make work of the fabric, and you focus on finishing yourself off. You pull your shirt off and let it drop to your feet before your hands move to unhook your bra. You’re barely sliding the straps down your arms when you hear Clint huff, and you look back to him.

“I wanted to do that,” he almost whines, chest puffing.

You roll your eyes but laugh, and toss your bra to him. He catches it with a wink, before throwing it behind him. Immediately, his gaze drags over your chest, excruciatingly slow. You know he’s taking in every inch, every natural mark that decorates your torso. Normally, you’d feel odd being examined so closely while still being at a decent distance -- but Clint is observant and his eyes are hungry.

Finally, his dark eyes reconnect with yours. “You gonna come sit or should I just grab you?” His tone is playful and daring, but you hear the hint of arousal that suggests he wouldn’t be opposed to tugging you into his arms. You don’t have time for games anymore, though, so you stand between Clint’s legs, and he pats his thigh playfully.

“Hmm…” You bite your lip and shake your head, eyes glistening with mischief. “Not yet…”

You make your descent to your knees perfectly paced, fluttering your lashes as you look up to Clint from between his thighs. He cusses and his arms fall limply to his side as he resigns himself to the torture he knows you’ll be sure to deliver.

“I thought you wanted to take your time,” you tease, fingers sliding up his thigh. Your nails against his skin have him tensing, muscles quivering.

He groans, and tosses his head back. “That was before I made you cum. Just wanna fuck you now -- make you shake again.”

You pinch him. “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere, Barton. You should know that.” But, you still let your palm graze over his hard cock, twitching at your touch. He’s firm and warm, and when your fingers wrap around his length, you realize how deliciously thick he is, filling your grasp fully. The length is there too, just enough to not be intimidating, but the girth has your core throbbing.

“Fuck, Clint,” you groan, giving a slow jerk of your wrist. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

He’s pulsing in your hand, skin flushed and precum beginning to drip from the head of his cock. It coats your hand on the second stroke, easing the drag. Soon enough, he’s practically glistening, and your mouth waters. You have to taste him.

He calls your name, voice trembling, as your tongue darts out to flatten against his tip. “Oh God, please.” He’s flushed, from his cheeks to his tensing thighs, and you’d grin if you weren’t taking him deeper into your mouth. Another part of the burning, fervid desire deep in your veins lights up as your lips wrap around him -- tongue greedy for more as it laps everything it can reach. A growl reverberates through his entire body, and the sound makes your thighs clench.

You spare him a glance, and he looks destroyed. Sweat gathers on his forehead and the veins in his arm pulse as he grips the cushions to stay steady. Sane. Calm.

His knuckles are white and you relieve them by grabbing his left hand in your own, thumb rubbing over the back of his palm. He’s squeezing you like you’re his lifeline, and you reward him with your free hand around his base.

“Fuck fuck, I’ll cum too fast with you doing that,” Clint grunts, and you watch his chest heave as he tries to steady his breathing.

You pull off him with a line of spit, breaking it with your hand as you use the saliva to glide your fingers. He’s still throbbing, and you trace his underside vein with your wet thumb. “I thought that was the point, right?” You repeat his words from earlier with a grin, pressing a kiss against his thigh as your hand speeds up. He’s so close and he needs it so badly, but he finally pulls his hand from yours to grab your moving wrist.

“Not until I fuck you.” He pants, and begrudgingly removes your hold from his cock. “And a couple times, at the very least.”

Your heart races at the mere thought of as many rounds as you can handle, with Clint making you cum again and again. Still, you stand slowly, silently hoping he’ll push you back to your knees and cum down your throat.

But he doesn’t. He watches closely as you straighten out, and you quickly move to straddle him. “Fine, but you’ll let me ride you, understood?” Your thighs brush over him with the lightest touch, and with just one solid movement, you could have him sinking into you. But, you wait. You watch as he swallows heavily, eyes hooded.

Clint gives you a lopsided smile. “No complaints here, babe.” And with that, you reach down to hold his length, pressing the tip against your clenching, wet, core. He gasps, but you shift just slightly, until he bumps your clit. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you let out a soft cry as he jerks upward, precum coating the swollen nub. You reward yourself with one more drag down from your clit before letting the head of his cock push into you.

You’re immediately clenching around his length, and Clint’s calloused fingertips dig into your hips as he helps steady you. It only takes a couple breaths and a slow spread of your thighs to take him fully, arousal coating his cock quickly. He barely holds himself back from rutting into you right away, but you rock your hips and grip his shoulders regardless.

“Fuck,” he half-groans, half-whimpers. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Your nails dig into his skin as you roll again, letting out an incoherent babble of his name as your clit gains friction from his own warm body. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your thigh onto his, and it has you shuddering. It’s so dirty and your fingers move to Clint’s hair, desperately clinging at the long strands. His forehead presses to yours, and he smells like the most dangerous concoction of sweat, cologne, and mint toothpaste you’ve ever had the honor of inhaling.

You join in an almost-kiss that’s all teeth, but he brushes his tongue against your cupid’s bow in a much gentler way, and you know he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine in reaction. He squeezes your hip gently in reassurance, and then his grip on you tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but you can feel the years of arm workouts, and you know there’s no way to escape -- as if you’d ever want to.

Clint’s knee jerks and then he’s thrusting up into you with such force it leaves you breathless. He holds you down and all you can do is gasp and hold him tighter as he pushes into you harder and faster. Every shift provides a new angle and friction as his tip stimulates your sensitive walls.

Your thighs shake desperately and you can hear the wet slap each of his movements provide as you coat his cock in warm slick. He grins at the sight, one hand drifting from your hip until it reaches your throbbing clit.

“Look at you,” he coos and punctuates the words with a rough circle of his thumb.

Your chest heaves as you gasp, but the lack of Clint’s hold gives you a second to grind against him. He grunts as you do, and you chuckle breathlessly against his parted lips.

“And look at you.”

He retorts by way of another rub against your clit, and your laughter quickly turns to a drawn-out moan.

“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum.” He pants between every word, but he’s determined to deliver the compliment that makes your face too warm. You’re not sure how he knows you’re so close -- it must be way more embarrassingly obvious than you thought -- but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s letting his cock drag inside you slowly, with a hard thrust every few seconds. Not when the pressure on your clit is changing so rapidly you can’t breathe.

When you do cum, with a broken cry and shaking torso, Clint doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder. It’s a never-ending high that turns your brain to mush, and your body into even less. Your thighs burn and your toes curl but all you can feel is the delicious length buried deep inside you.

It’s only during the beginning of the cool down that you tug a little harder on Clint’s hair, and roll your hips a little more. “C’mon, Clint, please. Please fill me up.” His chest rumbles against yours with a throaty growl, and you continue to ride out your orgasm as he fucks into you with a few more desperate, shaky thrusts.

He cums in you thick and warm, with a groan of your name. It tumbles from his lips sinfully, and you commit the sound to memory. The rasp of his tone and the sight of his wet, swollen lips.

It’s not until he eases out of you slowly, and you feel the drip down your thigh that you’re grounded and reminded of exactly where you are. On a multi-thousand dollar couch. Owned by Tony Stark.

“Oh my god, Clint.”

His eyes are closed and you’re sure he’s about three seconds from sleeping for eighteen hours, but he manages a tired smirk. “I know. That was good.”

“No! I mean yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He half-opens one eye. “What?”

“I think we stained the couch.” A quick glance between Clint’s thighs all but confirms it, and you’re not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed by the very large wet spot staining the blended fabric.

“I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now. After everything that just happened.”

You playfully slap his shoulder as you roll onto the cushion next to him with a huff. He nudges you back with his arm before clearing his throat, and letting out a butchered impression of your voice. “Oh Clint! Your dick was just so amazing!-”

“Oh my god!” You cover your face but nothing stops the laughter that rumbles through your chest -- even if he’s got your tone completely wrong. He just chuckles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side with a sigh.

“How much do you think we’ll owe Tony by the end of the day?” He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes, but presses a chaste kiss to your hair. “C’mon, you don’t think I haven’t planned out every surface we still need to fuck on before they get back?”

“Clint!”

“See, you keep screaming my name but for all the wrong reasons.” Now you can feel his grin against the top of your head, and it comes into view as he stands with you still in his grasp. You’re not sure how he maneuvers it, but he’s got you in his arms before you can even blink, and the look he sends you tells you not to complain or even question it. He’s not even out of breath -- all things considered -- and when you glance in the direction he’s heading, your eyes widen.

“You have got to be joking…” You squirm in his arms as he sets you down on the table used for almost every meeting, and the mere thought of defiling it forever makes you squeeze your legs together shyly.

But, Clint is quick to spread them, all with a cocky grin and a far too confident tone.

“I don’t know about you…” He begins, as his fingers trail up your thigh. “But I think we could reach ten thousand by midnight.”

If you distantly hear FRIDAY warn adamantly against it -- neither of you mention it.

“Better get started then, Barton.”

---

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sage-nebula · 3 years

Text

Game Review — Blue Fire

One of my all-time favorite game series is The Legend of Zelda. My favorite game of all time is The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. And my second favorite game of all time is Hollow Knight. So it would make sense, then, to think that a combination of the two would be the most amazing thing the world had to offer me.

Overall Score: 7/10

Well . . . it could have been better. It also could have been worse, absolutely, but it also could have been better. For more detailed thoughts, jump below the cut (and view on blog due to formatting).

The Pros:

The graphics and animation are beautiful. The specific Zelda game the graphics brought to mine (despite the color palette, which was clearly more Hollow Knight inspired) was The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. Whatever reason the developers had for going the cel shaded route (maybe they had an artistic vision in mind, or maybe it was easier somehow) it was a good one to make. In particular, all of the glowing and flame effects were lovely, the shadows all fell in the right places, the characters were charming to look at, et cetera. Everything worked well with the acrobatics as well. Visually, the game is beautiful.

For the most part, the platforming is fair and even platforming challenges are doable with enough practice. This is particularly true for the overworld / main dungeons, rather than the Voids, which are more extra dungeons that you don’t have to complete to beat the game (although doing so certainly makes the game easier given that each completed Void gives you another life heart). While there were some areas where the game lagged for whatever reason and threw off crucial timing, as well as some Voids that were definitely more Platform Hell than simply platforming, the platforming puzzles were very well put together for the most part and were enjoyable to play.

The fast travel system, when unlocked, is incredibly convenient and takes a lot of the headache out of traveling around the world, particularly given that you use the shrines for a number of things (fast travel, saving, char—spirit equips) and there aren’t any maps present in this game whatsoever. It does take some time to unlock fast travel and you’re not exactly pointed in the direction to get it (in fact I had to look up to figure out where I was supposed to go to get it), but once you have it it’s a well-developed system that took a lot of pain out of playing that would have otherwise been there.

A minor thing that I liked, but (just like in Hollow Knight) when you die, your spirit or soul is left behind. Also like in Hollow Knight, it keeps all of the money you had on you when you died. Essentially, it is the exact same thing as the Shade from Hollow Knight, but white instead of black. Anyway, the minor thing I liked about this is that if you die in a boss fight, your spirit waits for you directly outside the boss arena, meaning that you don’t have to try to reclaim it while the boss is trying to kill you. It was a nice bone the developers threw the player.

While no tracks in particular standout, and while the OST doesn’t live up to the OSTs of the inspirations behind this game, there were times when the music was very nice, which is always a plus.

While the main quest is very short, there are numerous sidequests you can do even apart from the Voids that give you things to do in each area, making them feel a little less small and giving you a bit more time with the game, as well as unlockables as rewards (mainly in the form of new costumes, but still). There are lots of little secrets hidden around in each area too, which is nice to discover if you’re someone like me who loves exploring in games.

The Neutrals:

The story. The story is . . . how do I put this . . . okay. So, it’s clear the developers wanted to write a story with the aesthetic of Hollow Knight (ruined kingdom, lots of shadow / light dichotomy, fallen kingdom, et cetera), but with an overt storytelling style like The Legend of Zelda. So you get a lot of exposition about what happened in the past, and what you as the main character are supposed to do now . . . but the thing about the exposition is that not only is the same thing repeated about fifteen different times (such as the constant harping on about how the main character contains both light and shadow within them), but also there are huge chunks of seemingly important detail that are just left unexplained. Like for instance: we know that the Fire Guardians from the Fire Keep were one of the last strongholds against the Shadow (who was also the sixth god and has also corrupted the queen yadda yadda). And we can extrapolate that the Fire Guardians were specifically trying to create a warrior that was both light and shadow based on the fact that the game starts with the main character breaking out of a test tube with a bunch of corpses that look just like the player scattered around, seeming to be failed experiments (i.e. just like how the Pale King created the Hollow Knight in Hollow Knight). But the only Fire Guard that we see around is Von. I think he mentions briefly once that the Fire Guards were trying to make the warrior, or had made the warrior, or something like that, but we’re never told why, exactly. We don’t know what processes led to that. We don’t know who was in charge. We don’t know why this specific type of warrior was needed except “since you have both you may be the answer.” And the fact that there were apparently a bunch of failed experiments is never really touched upon either. Furthermore, we’re told that the five gods had lifted Penumbra (the world) into the sky to protect it from the Shadow (a la Hylia raising Skyloft to protect the people from Demise), but that it didn’t work and the Shadow ultimately got to them anyway. So allegedly this is a post-apocalyptic land. But the only thing to really be ravaged is the Temple of Gods, where apparently the corrupted queen sleeps. Everyone else seems mostly fine as long as they avoid the monsters? It’s like they were going for what Hollow Knight did, but didn’t quite want to go the full route of having corpses literally everywhere on-screen at all times. Although weirdly enough, there is also a distinct lack of NPCs which makes the world feel more empty than Hallownest despite the circumstances . . . What I’m getting at here is that there definitely is a story, but it was told in a way that was pretty sloppy. It’s not so sloppy that it detracts from the overall experience, but it’s like too much was piled on in some areas and not enough was explained in other areas. Or like they took some things they liked from other games (e.g. making the creation of the “warrior of light and shadow” reminiscent of the creation of the Hollow Knight) without following through on what made those things work. Like it wasn’t just that there were a lot of failed Knights and that their corpses were tossed into the abyss and that The Knight had to try to claw his way out (as did Broken Vessel and others) while the “successful” Hollow Knight was raised by the Pale King. It was also that we know that the entire reason why the Hollow Knight was created in the first place was to contain the Radiance / the Plague. It was also that these hundreds or thousands of corpses were the Pale King’s children. It was also that the Pale King has a monologue over that segment saying, “no mind to think, no will to break, no voice to cry suffering” as requirements for the Hollow Knight to be considered successful. The horror didn’t come just from the corpses being tossed down the pit around you as you had to climb up in an attempt to get out, but also at all of the surrounding context, which was left entirely out of Blue Fire’s version with the warrior of light and shadow. Not that they should have copied it (although if they had it really wouldn’t have been surprising), but it’s clear what they were trying to do and where they failed because they didn’t have the follow through to go with it. I feel like the above paragraph is so critical I should move it to The Cons, but I do want to say that I don’t think the story itself was terrible. It borrows so much from both Zelda and Hollow Knight that it really isn’t original and it doesn’t follow through on things that made those stories work, but overall it doesn’t ruin the experience, even if all of the repetition gets old pretty quickly. Although as a final note, I’ll also add another thing that bugged me, which is that we never learn what the people of Penumbra are. Like we know the Shadow is bad, but they all look like Shadow people. We know there are creatures called “onops” but we don’t know what they are, or if everyone is an onop. Whereas in Hollow Knight we know that all the characters are bugs. It’s just another little thing that wasn’t explained but probably should have been.

On a less long note, the combat is also pretty mediocre. Again, it’s not bad. There is a parry system that, if you learn to time it right to actually pull off the parry, is pretty cool. But although you are given magic, which is useful for killing long-distance enemies, the magic can’t do a single thing for you in boss battles no matter how many times you upgrade your mana. Additionally, it is very much a “mash Y to win” type of game, where Y is the button you use to attack and you just mash that while jumping around. There’s no complexity to the combat at all or any strategy that is really required. It’s not bad, per se, but it’s nothing to write home about either.

The charms in this game are called spirits, and while you can buy a majority of them from shopkeepers, you can also “capture” your own by coming across the spirit of a dead person and trapping it to use its power for yourself. This is made apparent when you go back to a young child who is dead the second time you go to see them, and capture their spirit for use. Also when you literally murder an NPC for a sidequest and then later capture their spirit to use for your own use. And aside from the sidequest giver being horrified you killed the NPC and telling you to keep it hush-hush (without even knowing that you can and will capture the spirit of that murder victim for your own use) this . . . is never really remarked upon. Ever. And the thing is, it creates a sort of dissonance, because your character is treated as a hero in this game. No one seems horrified by you, there’s never any question of whether your existence is moral or not, nor any reason to think that your character would be amoral. In Hollow Knight, the Knights were created to be soulless husks who were there to be vessels for the Radiance / infection. Hornet in particular calls out your cursed existence and how she does not like you because of it. But although you can learn “emotes” from statues (which is teaching your character either actions or emotions, it’s unclear), no such deal is made here. So this aspect of the game is strange, even if I can at least appreciate that they tried to make their spirits a tiny bit different from Hollow Knight’s charms. Though with that said . . .

The Cons:

It’s one thing to be inspired by other games, but the sheer amount that this game cops from The Legend of Zelda and Hollow Knight is, at least to me, incredibly distracting. Just a handful of examples off the top of my head: — In Hollow Knight, you have a Shade that lingers where you last died and keeps all of your money from when you died. In Blue Fire, you have a spirit / soul (again, it’s unnamed) that lingers where you died and keeps all of your money from when you died. You have to retrieve them before you die again to get your money back. — In Hollow Knight, you have different circular charms that each have a different design, name, and grant you different abilities. You can only have a certain amount equipped at a time (though you can increase how many you can equip at once) and you can only equip them at save points. In Blue Fire you have different spirits that are contained in circles that each have a different design, name, and grant you different abilities. You can only have a certain amount equipped at a time (though you can increase how many you can equip at once) and you can only equip them at save points. — Everything I explained above about how the main character breaking out of a test tube at the beginning, surrounded by corpses just like them, felt like an echo of the Knight’s creation in Hollow Knight (but again, not as effective for reasons outlined above). — The default tunic has a hat that is exactly like Link’s from The Legend of Zelda. This is made even more obvious with the dyed green tunics. — The story segment detailing how the five gods created Penumbra was copped from how the golden goddesses created Hyrule from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. To compare the dialogue: Ocarina of Time: “Din. With her flaming arms, cultivated the land and created the red earth.” Blue Fire: “Dina, God of Land. With her mighty body of stone, Dina carved mountains, deserts, and landforms in the earth.” It’s in the exact same cadence, to the point where I half expected the artifact they created at the end of the story to be the Triforce (instead it was called the Oath of Sarana). — In Hollow Knight, the titular Hollow Knight is housed inside the Temple of the Black Egg, and is in fact locked inside that Black Egg to seal the Radiance / infection. There are three locks on the egg, and each one will only be broken when one of the three Dreamers dies. You have to break all three locks to face him, a corrupted “final” boss. In Blue Fire, the corrupted queen is housed inside the Temple of the Gods. There are three locks on her door, and each one will only be broken when one of the three Shadow Lords dies. You have to break all three locks to face her, the corrupted final boss. — It’s implied that, especially in places like the Temple Gardens, that the humanoid enemies that attack you are not monsters, but are people who were once completely normal and even forces of good who were corrupted by the Shadow. This is exactly like how all of the enemies you face in Hollow Knight (with the exception of, say, Hornet) were also once normal bugs before they were turned into zombies by the infection. I could go on. The point is, it’s perfectly fine to be inspired by something. Hell, it would be hard to find an action/adventure game that wasn’t inspired by The Legend of Zelda at this point. But it’s one thing to be inspired by something, and another thing to completely rip-off your inspiration to the point where the similarities are distracting to your audience. And it’s not just me; when I was looking up the exact dialogue for the story of the gods from Blue Fire, I found others who were pointing out just how similar everything was to Hollow Knight in particular, including someone who, like me, realized that the Temple of the Gods was essentially the Temple of the Black Egg. When things are this blatant, it feels a whole lot less like inspiration and a whole lot more like plagiarism.

The Voids all have a star rating to indicate how difficult they are. These star ratings are completely meaningless. Granted, partly it’s because everyone is going to have different abilities and so it will be hard to create an overall difficulty scoring that will be accurate for every player, but it’s also telling when a four-star course is miles easier than a two-star course, which I found to be the case on more than one occasion due to level design that was, at times, kind of bullshit.

Although there are NPCs, there are none who are memorable or standout, despite the fact that most of Penumbra’s populace is (maybe?) still alive. Unlike in Hollow Knight, where there were characters like Elderbug, the Last Stag, Hornet, Quirrel, and so forth that were memorable and lovable, all of the NPCs in Blue Fire feel rather the same and are pretty easily forgettable.

The world itself is incredibly small. While the fact there are no maps makes this kind of a good thing, on the other hand it’s a bit disappointing that there are a total of two towns and then a few small connecting areas. It doesn’t really make it feel like the kingdom that it’s supposed to be.

On that note, why aren’t there maps? The fact that there is fast travel is really more of a necessity than mere convenience because there are no maps to help lead you around. If you put down the game for a while and then go back to it, you might not remember how to get to different areas in the game, and if you haven’t unlocked fast travel yet (since it is something you have to unlock) you’re going to be pretty much boned due to the lack of a feature that is in basically every other game.

Overall, while this is not a game I think I would ever go back to, it also isn’t one that I regretted purchasing and playing. It could definitely have been better, but it also could have been worse. My only hope is that the next game this studio makes is more original, rather than copying so much from other, more successful titles. (Or at the very least, that they study why certain things worked in more successful titles, instead of just copying at the surface level and calling it a day.)

#2021 game reviews #blue fire #blue fire game #have had this sitting in drafts forever #tbh probably could have added more but I just don't feel like opening this game again to refresh my memory #which probably says more than this whole review does tbh

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skullchicken · 3 years

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On the 30.04.2021, Meinhart Bonifaz Brant, at that point an unassuming spindly 15-year old human reading Stanislaw Lem's "Star Diaries" on the living room couch, goblinized into a giant. About 50 years later, he would go on a few adventures under the street name "Alberich" (you see, it's very funny because he's not a dwarf).

In honor of goblinization-day, I'm compiling all of the art and (hopefully entertaining) stories I have of mah boi and the chicago shadowrun-group - so these are going to be some long posts. Everything under the cut so I don't clog up your dashboards and cut up into chunks. If you don't want to see it, blacklist "goblinization".

Part 1, the first mission:

So, why is Alberich? When I joined the shadowrun-group that would start my obsession, my english conversational skills weren't that great. Mostly trouble finding words and having a really thick german accent. Since I was a bit self-conscious about that, I decided to instead lean into it. Thus Alberich was a german-born ex-museum director turned shadowrunner since he did a Very Stupid Thing and had to leave the Allied German States for Chicago.

What did he do? He made a deal with a dragon. Specifically, he sold a forged piece of art to Lofwyr, CEO of Saeder-Krupp.

Alberich was introduced into the already formed group something like this: "At the entrance of the building, arriving punctually, you spot the biggest troll you've probably ever seen, looking very uncomfortable to be here and slinking as much as is even possible. All in all, he somehow doesn't look very threatening. In fact, he looks as if an art teacher had been stuffed with a 3 meter/10 feet tall horned giant. His face lights up as he sees you, though."

So the first thing he does is shake everyone's hand, politely assuring them that it's a pleasure to meet them and yes, he is Alberich, and who are you? Ah, yes, lovely names, very creative.

For reference, this is the average shadowrun-group:

Speaking of which, the gang's line-up did change a bit unfortunately, but the ones that stayed from beginning to end were:

Speedrun, street-samurai. An adrenaline-junkie who has styled himself after anime. Very much trying to be cool, to the point that he has adopted a deep-sounding voice that's rather obviously not his natural speaking voice. We pictured it as him talking with his head on his chin. Here he is, trying to impress the fighting adept shere khan:

Elf_Queen, decker and elf-poser. An elf-poser is someone who tries very hard to be elf-like - in her case, she wanted to actually *be* an elf. She ran away from home since her parents were metahuman-racists (Humanis policlub). Notably, her online and offline persona were very different. Online, she's very assertive and the guild leader of an mmorpg. Offline however, she's pretty much scared of anything. When Alberich joined the group, she hid behind Speedrun - you don't live with humanis for that long without picking up some xenophobia as well. And trolls aren't well-liked in the game world.

So the first mission: De-kidnap a kidnapped singer called Jericho. First we took a look at the bus-line she had last taken, a task for which Elf_Queen had to jack into said bus. Only three problems: A) She had to get behind a metal covering inside the bus B) her character sheet is min-maxed to hell and back, thus she has ONE measly point in strenght. Which wouldn't be a problem since she's in the presence of three pretty strong dudes if not for C) Massive Social Anxiety.

After looking around like a wet bunny for 5 minutes, Alberich (who has also cramped himself into the bus) finally catches on and goes "... can I help you, little lady?", pops the cover open and she can get deckin'. You might call this strike 1. You'll see why.

After visiting her appartment and some more investigation, we gather that Miss Jericho has been taken away into a bunraku (think brothel but with more brainwashing) to be re-programmed to the liking of her ex-boyfriend whose band she left to make it on her own (and quite successfully so). Which means we'll have to deal with Yakuza.

The bunraku turns out to be disguised as a night club. After I tried and failed to casually infiltrate the place (... I... er... wasn't a very good player at first?) we had to flee forwards, take out the guards at the door and make sure we get in and out of there as soon as possible.

In the club, almost before we made it backstage, Elf_Queen got held up by a guy bent on talking to her and froze up. Well, at least until Alberich very casually bent over the two of them and informed the guy that "she's with me". I tell you this, because this was strike 2.

Backstage, past a kitchen and into the cellar, we finally got into a room with two rows of plexi-glass cells - and in the middle, a bound spirit, a thing that feeds on negative emotions. Our muscle (Speedrun and Baba Yaga - yes, we had a John Wick in our midst. And yes, Alberich technically doesn't count as muscle, he's a mage. It's complicated) were outside, fighting off Yakuza. So it was up to EQ to hack Miss Jericho's cell open as quickly as possible and for me to make sure she wouldn't die while doing so.

After like three rounds of unsuccessful banishing (as I said... not a good player), the cell was open. But...

But.

There were the other victims.

What about the others?

Now, when I thought up Alberich, my core idea was "Daryl Whitefeather and Don Corleone having a mental fistfight". I tend to play good characters and this time around, to honor the setting I set out a morally grey character, someone who mostly looks out for himself and only indulges in kindness when he has the luxury to do so. Being kind and polite, if you think about it, is really just usually the easiest and most pleasant way to get people to do what you want. And if people are convinced you're scary by nature, seeming less so is just a smart survival strategy.

But then he looks at this little socially anxious nerd, who very much reminds him of himself, when he used to be a little socially anxious nerd, long, long ago and she says with big eyes "please! can you give me a bit more time? We need to save the others! We have to try!" and it's just... strike three. He's taken the little decker into his heart. So internally he goes "welp, I'm old anyways" and externally he shrugs his mana-burned shoulders, sighs "okay" and keeps trying to banish.

Unfortunately the spirit almost eats him alive. EQ fails to open any more gates, so they make it out once he as but 2 life points left, run into the elevator and evade the fast approaching small army of Yakuza on the way out.

Elf_Queen jumps into his arms, Alberich holds her like one might hold a chihuahua, Baba Yaga is trying to gauge their time and speedrun's reporting back from outside.

In the end, it was bittersweet. Because while we did save Miss Jericho, the brainwashing still took hold. Her last 1 1/2 years of life wiped away, she asked for her ex-boyfriend as soon as she woke up.

End of Part 1, thank you for reading this very self-indulgent text!

#shadowrun #goblinization #troll #mage #shaman #decker #baba yaga #john wick #cyberpunk #ttrpg

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layce2015 · 4 years

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The Last of Us Part 2 (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 3: Patrols

Chapter 2

(A/N: I don't know if I made this clear but I am NOT following the story of the game, exactly. A good chunk of the story I am keeping but the thing that I am mainly changing is Joel's fate as the more I think about it the more I don't like how it was handled. So Joel's fate will be different in this story.)

*Knock*

I groan as I hear the sound of someone knocking on the front door. Then I felt the spot next to me on the bed shift and I open my eyes to see that Joel was getting up. I raise my head to see that it wasn't even sunlight yet. "What the hell?" I groaned, sleepily, as he gets out of the bed. "I got it." Joel said and he walks down the stairs.

I run my hands over my eyes and make the effort to get up out of bed. I head down the stairs to see Joel talking to Tommy. "Hey, everything okay?" I asked them as I make my way down the stairs. "Yeah, we got a report on a horde of infected out north. Maria wants us to go check it out." Tommy explains as Joel comes to stand next to me.

"Okay." I said, nodding, then I turn to Joel. "Just be careful, okay?" I said to him. "Of course." He said and I smirked before I lean up and kissed his cheek. As Joel heads upstairs to get ready, I turn to Tommy.

"You want me to make you something before you boys head out?" I asked him. "Nah, I've got some food packed up we should be good for the next few hours. But thanks." Tommy said and I nod. "Okay, suit yourself. I guess I better go ahead and cook breakfast for the munchkins before they decide to wake up." I said as I head into the kitchen.

After gathering up what I needed, I set them on the counter and was about to start cooking when I hear heavy footsteps behind me. I turned around to see Joel, now dressed up in his winter clothing, walking towards me. "I'll be back in a few hours." He said. "You better." I said and Joel chuckles before he comes up to me, leans down and kisses me.

Once we break the kiss, I look at him in the eyes and give a worried look to him. Even though he and I have done these patrols before and we've been through hell and back, I still get scared of what could happen to him.

"Please be careful." I whispered to him. "Always." He mutters then gives me a quick kiss on the lips again before he walks over to his brother. "Hey." I said and he turns to me. "I love you." I said and he smiles. "Love you, too." He said and I smiled as he goes over to Tommy.

"You be careful too, Tommy." I called out to him. "Will do." Tommy shouts and the two men leave the house.

Few hours later, after cooking breakfast and getting Ethan and Aiden up and about, we finished eating our breakfast and then I made the boys get dressed as it was time for them to get ready for daycare.

"Alright boys, you got your boots and your coats, your bags?" I asked them. "Yes, Mommy." They said, in unison, as they come up to me dressed up for the winter. I kneel down and check them over, making sure everything was in check, when there was a knock at the door.

I get up and open the door to see Jesse standing there. "Jesse! What brings you here?" I asked him. "Maria wanted me to tell you to meet her at the mess hall, I think she wants you out on patrol as well. I'm...about to go get Ellie so she could go on her routes." He said and I nod. "Okay, yeah. Well, let me grab my stuff and take the boys to daycare and I'll be there." I said.

"Cool. See you in a minute." He said and I nod at him then shut the door as he turns to leave. "Okay, stay right here, boys. I have to go get my backpack." I said as I head upstairs. "You about to go fight monster again?" Aiden asked, worriedly. "Yes, but don't worry. It shouldn't be too long. Besides, your father should be home soon." I said as I pick up the old familiar backpack, looked through all of my weapons, then put it on.

I make my way downstairs and then the three of us headed out.

"Okay, boys. You two be good." I said to them before I kneel down to them and kissed the top of their heads. "We will." Ethan said and Aiden nods. "I love you, boys." I said. "Love you, too." They said, in unison, and I hug them before I get up and head over to the mess hall, which was just around nearby.

Just as I make it over there, I see Maria, Jesse and Ellie walking out of the front door. "Maria!" I called out and she turns to look at me. "Sorry, I'm late." I said once I got up to her. "It's okay. I was just about to wait for you." She said and I nod then I turn to Ellie.

"Hey, Ellie." I said to her, a bit awkwardly. "Hey, (y/n)." She greets back and a small smile appears on her lips. "Anyway, the reason I asked Jesse to come get you is that I want you to go with him and both of you trade off with Tommy and Joel. Those boys have been out for far too long." She explains as we started walking.

"Okay." I said.

"Where do we meet them?" Jesse asked her. "If you guys go up to the northwest lookout, they're scheduled to arrive later today." Maria said and Jesse and I nod at her. "Watch yourselves. I mean there's too many sightings of infected recently." She said. "Of course." I said.

"I was gonna check out the Creek trails, but I'll need someone else to cover it." Jesse said then Maria turns to Ellie.

"Ellie, you know the Creek trails?" She asked her. "Not really." Ellie said. "Dina's done it a bunch. I'll have the two of them take it." Jesse said. "That settles that." Maria said and we come up to a set of gates. "Ellie, can I talk to you for a second?" Maria asked her.

Ellie nods at her then her and Maria go off to the side and talk while Jesse and I go to the gare and walk through, passing by a playground where I see Dina playing with the kids.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Jesse asked me. "Knowing Maria, asking about last night." I muttered. "Yeah, about that...is everything okay between you guys? I mean, I don't understand why she was so upset with Joel..." Jesse started to say but I shake my head. "It's...it's complicated. But...she did come by later last night and...I think we're working things out." I said and Jesse nods before he looks over at Dina just as Ellie comes up.

"Yo, Dina, assignments!" Jesse yells. "Just give me a minute!" She yells back at him and he sighs. Then he turns to Ellie and said. "Can you get your girlfriend to the stable please?" Then he walks away just as Ellie scoffs. "Oh God."

I smirk then I patted her arm and give her a sympathetic smile before I go and follow Jesse but then I hear laughs and shouts. I turn to see that Ellie and Dina were playing snowball fight with the kids and I smiled.

Then the kids started to dogpile on Dina and Ellie was about to come in and save her when Ethan and Aiden run over and start to tackle her. Ellie let's out yell and I hear the boys laughing and screeching with her.

I laugh and shake my head before I make my way to the stables. "Hey, (y/n)." One of the guys said to me as he grabs one of the horses for me. "Hey." I said as I take the reigns of the horse. "Thanks." I said then I walk out of the stables and see a group of people that was about to go on patrol with their horses. Then I make my way over to Jesse.

"Ellie and Dina coming?" He asked me. "Yeah, they should be here." I said as I go stand by someone then I pull off my backpack, open it and look over my guns to make sure they were ready.

"Ahhh! Look who decided to join us." Jesse said and I look over to see Ellie and Dina coming over with their horses. "Yeah, yeah." Ellie grumbles as she walks over to him as he hands her a rifle then Dina another rifle.

He walks over to the main gate and shouts. "Open it up!" Then the gates started to open and Jesse turns to us. "Alright. You all know the drill. Run your routes. Mark your log books. Clear any infected you see. You run into anything you can't handle, you come back. Be smart about it. All right, get goin'." He said and he walks over to me to get to his horse that was next to me.

I put my bag on my back then mount my horse. Jesse gets on his horse and both of us nod then we galloped out and into the snowy woods.

"And then after he put all of the fruit in our mom's blender, he pushed the button to turn it on, but he forgot to put the lid on top of it. Covered the whole counter in that mess." I said as Jesse and I rode along the trail to the lookout. Jesse laughs at this.

"Oh man, what did your brother do then?" He asked. "Oh, he panicked and tried to clean it up but...mom came home before he could. She was pretty pissed at him." I said and Jesse chuckles a bit. "He tried to blame me, said I distracted him as I was running around and playing with my toys. But mom saw right through it." I said.

"How old was he when that happened?" Jesse asked me. "Um...I think he was about twelve and I was seven or eight." I said. "Ah!" He said as we got closer to the lookout. "And his name was Aiden, right? I mean that's how you got your son's name right?" Jesse asked. "Yeah. And Ethan was my dad's name." I explained and Jesse nods.

"I want to know how was your brother with Joel." Jesse said, intrigued, and I start to laugh. "At first, he was hesitate with Joel. I remember when I first brought Joel over to meet him and my mom, Aiden threatened him with his gun. He had a pretty good gun collection, considering he was part of the military." I said. "Damn. Honestly, it's kinda hard to imagine someone threatening Joel." Jesse said. "You'd be surprised." I muttered.

"How did Joel take the threat?" Jesse asked. "Pretty well. All things considering. He just assured my brother that he wouldn't harm me or hurt me in any way shape or form. He understood were Aiden was coming from since Joel had Sarah." I explained. "They eventually got along and became inseparable. I remember the days when Joel, Tommy and I went to Aiden's house and they would just watch the sports channel on the TV."

Suddenly, the wind started to pick up and I pull up the collar and hood of my coat up. "This isn't good." I called out to Jesse, through the growing harsh wind. "Yeah, but luckily we're here." Jesse said and just as he said that I could see the building up ahead. "Thank God." I said and we make it over to the lookout and head into the garage.

We put the horses inside as the blizzard started to pick up, to the point we couldn't even see two feet in front of us. Jesse shuts the garage door and we take a breath. "That was close." I muttered and he nods. "Yeah. Hopefully, Tommy and Joel make it here, safely." He said. "I hope so." I said, a bit of worry in my voice, as Jesse goes into another room.

*3rd Person POV*

Meanwhile, Tommy and Joel were heading into an old warehouse when the blizzard started coming through. Not to mention a horde of infected was following them. They seemed to be coming from everywhere, but Joel and Tommy were able to handle their own as they shot or killed any infected that would come near them.

"Joel, over here!" Tommy yells as they go around some crates and head to the entrance of the building. Suddenly, an infected grabs ahold of Joel, knocking him off his feet. Joel let's out a pained yell then turns on his back as he holds the infected aback while it flails its arms wildly at him.

Tommy was busy shooting at any oncoming infected and he didn't noticed until a girl with a long braided blonde hair comes in and shoots the infected that was on top of Joel.

Joel looks at this a bit surprised and the girl holds out her hand to him. "Thanks." He said as he accepts her hand and she helps him up. Then the two look over at the collapsing fence in front of them, where the horde was leaning against it a d trying to get through.

"We're gonna have to run!" He tells her as Tommy comes up and starts to shoot at some infected that were trying to get through. "There's too many of them!" Tommy shouts. "I'll cover you, get going!" Joel said as he aims his gun and fires. Tommy runs over to the girl and pats her shoulder.

"C'mon, this way!" He said to her as he runs inside of the building, her not far behind. Joel fires at many infected that he could before he follows after them.

"Oh shit!" Tommy exclaims as they run down a hallway then stops once he sees more infected coming. "Hold up!" He said as he pulls out a molotov and throws it at them. Joel goes over to a door on their right and opens it. "This way, c'mon!" He shouts and Tommy and the girl run, Joel gets in next then he and the girl push up an old vending machine up against the door, blocking the infected.

"You okay?" Joel asked the girl. "Yeah." She replied. "Where'd hell that all come from?" Tommy asked, exhausted. "It don't matter. What does is where we goin'?" Joel asked him. "I reckon we go out the back...we can make a break fro the lodge." Tommy suggests as they look around the room.

Joel sighs at this then said. "Ain't got a better idea." To him it didn't matter how they got out of here, he just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, and as safely as possible, so he could be back home with his boys, his wife and Ellie.

He turns to the newcomer as she looks around for supplies. "Hey. You got a gun?" He asked her. "Yeah." She replied, breathless. "Hope you're a good shot. Keep up with us." Joel tells her and she nods.

"We gotta warn everyone...come back with a cleanup crew." Tommy said. "We gotta live through this, first." Joel said to him, firmly. Then suddenly some more infected started coming at them.

After shooting their way through the horde, they were able to push an old gondola under a window and they go out that way. The three kept running through the snow and wind til they got to the old lodge and barricaded the door once they went through.

They backed away from the door then Tommy turns to the girl. "Hey. I'm Tommy." He introduced then he nods to his brother. "That's Joel." He said and the girl glances over at Joel as he keeps an eye on the door. "What's your name?" Tommy asked her. "Abby." She replied.

"Abby, are you okay?" Tommy asked her. "Yeah." She replied, nodding, but she seemed to be in shock.

Suddenly, the board they used to barricade the door begins to crack as the infected kept piling up towards the door. "That ain't gonna hold. We gotta go back." Joel said as he aims his gun at the door. "We ain't gonna outrun them all the way back to Jackson. We need to barricade that door." Tommy said, pointing at the other door.

"Tommy, we can't stay here!" Joel yells at him. "Horses ain't makin' it all that way--" Tommy argues but then Abby speaks up. "My friends. My friends are at a mansion just north from here. It's fenced in. We have the whole perimeter secure." Abby suggested, Joel and Tommy exchange a look.

"It's the Baldwin place. It could work." Joel said and Tommy nods. "All right. I'll get the door." Tommy said and he runs one way then Joel turns to Abby. "All right, you ride with me. C'mon." He said and he heads over to his horses while Abby stands there and thinks about the plan she had.

"C'mon!" Joel yells as he mounts his horse. Abby breaks from her thoughts and runs over to him, Joel helps her up to his horse as Tommy opens the door then he gets on his horse and they gallop away just as the horde burst through the door.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"I'm getting worried." I said as I pace around the room. It been almost an hour since we've been here and there was no sign of Tommy or of Joel. This is scaring me. "Maybe, it's the blizzard that's slowing them down." Jesse said, obviously he was trying to keep me calm as I start to panic. "No, no. Something is not right. They should've been here by now." I said, my breathing quicken.

I look out the window and could see the blizzard had calmed down some but it was still windy as hell. I let out a sigh then head over to the horses. "Fuck it. I'm gonna find them." I said as I grab my bag and mount my horse. "Whoa, wait, (y/n)! You sure? I mean, I don't want you going out on your own!" He said, worried, and I chuckled a bit.

"Son, I've been doing this kind've thing for the past twenty-five years. I can handle it. If you want to look around, that's fine. And if you find any of our people still out here, have them cover the area as well. Should be quicker that way. I'll head east, see if I can find them that way." I said. "Yes, ma'am." He said and he goes to open the garage door and I dug my heels into the side of my horse and galloped into the snowy storm.

@fangirl-inthe-us

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