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seektowrite · 5 months

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A Maze of Hearts | TMNT Fan-Fic

Chapter 2: Beneath the Surface

⚠️Disclaimer: In this fanfic, the brothers and (Y/n) have surpassed the age of 18 and are in their early 20s. Despite the narrative being rooted in the TMNT context, the brothers' appearances are similar to their Bayverse designs. This is not based on the Bayverse story nor like any of the other multiverses created. This is an entirely different universe with these characters. This story is mainly about (Y/n) being stuck in a 'Love Maze' with the four brothers, AKA a 'Love Triangle'. This story contains NSFW content, including but not limited to graphic depictions and discussions of death, depression, suicide, and rape. If you are sensitive to these topics, it is advised not to proceed with reading.

⚠️Insight: (Y/n) is a human with a neutral gender to ensure enjoyment for all audiences. However, in NSFW writings, there will be three distinct versions with corresponding pronouns—She/Her, He/Him, and They/Them—. Throughout the story, various prompts will be included, and here is the key:

(Y/n) = Your Name

(L/n) = Last Name

(E/c) = Eye Color

(H/c) = Hair Color

(3,689 Words) (Saturday, August 19th)

The blaring sound of (Y/n)'s 7 am alarm cut through the quiet of the room, abruptly rousing them from a deep slumber. As they fumbled to silence the persistent beep, the events of the previous night flooded back into their consciousness. The stealthy navigation of the city's shadows, the gleaming instruments of the forensics lab, and the mysterious black ooze—each memory played like a vivid reel in their mind. As (Y/n) stretched and shook off the remnants of sleep, their gaze lingered on the desk where college textbooks awaited attention. Responsibilities of academia beckoned, yet their thoughts were firmly tethered to the dual life they led—one foot in the world of college coursework and the other in the clandestine battles alongside the Turtles.

Memories of returning to the lair with Donatello, sharing the discovery with the brothers, and witnessing Leo immediately shift into planning mode filled (Y/n)'s mind. Leo's eyes narrowed with determined focus, signaling the gravity of the situation. Though they had faced the Krang before, the stakes now seemed higher, the shadows harboring a more intricate danger. As (Y/n) prepared for the day ahead, the echoes of last night's revelations served as a stark reminder that the delicate balance between academia and extraterrestrial battles had once again tipped.

(Y/n) swung their legs over the edge of the bed, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. The morning routine commenced like clockwork—the brisk shower, the aroma of coffee wafting through the air, and the familiar feel of their nightgown being stripped away and replaced with more public-suited clothing. However, beneath the surface of the routine, the weight of memories lingered. As they zipped up their favorite jacket, the events of a fateful night three years ago resurfaced. The city was a battleground, and the Krang had launched an assault unlike anything they'd faced before. The fight had been fierce, the air filled with the clash of steel and the echoes of battle cries.

April and Casey, steadfast allies in the fight against evil, had fought valiantly by their side. However, in the midst of the chaos, a surge of Krang forces overwhelmed them. The skirmish took a devastating turn, and despite every effort, they lost April and Casey that night. The pain of that loss lingered, an indelible mark on the timeline of their battles. After the devastating battle with the Krang three years ago, the Turtles and their allies limped back to the lair, weary but victorious. The atmosphere, initially jubilant in the face of triumph, took a sudden somber turn. Splinter delivered the heartbreaking news—April and Casey had not made it out of the battle alive.

(Y/n) vividly recalled the funeral service held a week later. The lair, usually filled with echoes of laughter and camaraderie, now resonated with mournful silence. The air was heavy with grief as the Turtles, April and Casey's friends, and even some unexpected allies gathered to pay their respects. The eulogies painted a poignant picture of April's unwavering courage and Casey's unyielding loyalty. The weight of loss hung thick in the air, and as they stood in the dimly lit lair, (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same again. The memorial service marked a turning point, a solemn reminder of the fragility of their chosen path and the sacrifices that came with defending the city.

For Michelangelo and (Y/n), the losses were a profound wound, a deep cut that left an enduring mark on their spirits. Unlike the others, (Y/n) and Mikey had been not just teammates but family, their bonds with April and Casey running deeper than mere comradeship. April had been the one to introduce (Y/n) to the turtles, and Casey, in turn, became a daily companion in training during those times when (Y/n) couldn't be with the turtles. The battle against the Krang three years ago had not only claimed the city but had taken away two integral parts of their lives. The absence of April and Casey felt like a void, a stark reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of their mission. (Y/n) and Michelangelo shared their worry as a natural consequence of the profound impact that loss had wrought upon them.

(Y/n) moved to the kitchen, the routine of morning rituals providing a momentary respite from the weight of memories. The familiar clink of utensils and the sizzle of a frying pan on the stove filled the air as they prepared a simple breakfast. The rhythmic crack of eggs against the edge of the bowl and the soft hum of the toaster contributed to the comforting cadence of the morning. The scent of freshly toasted bread wafted through the kitchen, intertwining with the aroma of eggs sizzling in the pan. As (Y/n) deftly moved between the stove and the countertop, the act of preparing breakfast became a grounding force amidst the lingering thoughts of battles fought and comrades lost.

The golden yolk spilled onto the plate as (Y/n) expertly plated the eggs, the toast standing tall beside the savory creation. With a natural flow, they reached for the salt, habitually kept in its designated spot, and sprinkled it over the eggs, ensuring a perfect blend of flavors. The next move was deliberate—lathering the toast generously with jam, a small but cherished indulgence. Turning off the humming appliances, (Y/n) made their way to the dining table. Settling into the chair, they dug into their breakfast with a quiet gusto, savoring each bite. Simultaneously, their phone found its way into their hand, a familiar gesture in the modern routine. With a quick scan of the news, they sought to catch up on the world beyond the walls, the juxtaposition of the mundane and the extraordinary seamlessly woven into the fabric of their morning ritual.

(Y/n)'s gaze shifted from the breakfast plate to the glowing screen of their phone. Fingers deftly tapped the screen, navigating to the recent news about the black ooze they had discovered with the Turtles the night before. The headlines hinted at an undercurrent of intrigue and potential danger, mirroring the complexities of their dual existence. As the news article unfolded on the screen, (Y/n) absorbed the details— The news article danced around the truth, avoiding any explicit mention of the Krang or other extraterrestrial elements. Instead, it artfully framed the discovery as something ripped from the pages of a comic book—a mysterious substance with an otherworldly allure. The deliberate omission of the alien origins aimed at preserving the public's sense of normalcy and shielding them from the unsettling reality of hidden knowledge.

The narrative carefully sidestepped the fact that the black ooze wasn't just a peculiar substance but a coded message, a warning from an extraterrestrial force. The decision to keep this critical detail concealed was undoubtedly a strategic move to prevent unnecessary panic and maintain the delicate balance between secrecy and public safety. If Donatello, with his keen intellect and scientific prowess, could decipher the encoded message within the black ooze, it opened the door to the possibility that the NYPD's forensic team might also unravel the mystery.

Years ago, when the Turtles faced off against the Krang, the alien invasion was no secret. The looming threat was a palpable reality known to everyone in New York and, indeed, the entire United States. Yet, despite the vigilant efforts of (Y/n) and the turtles to thwart the Krang's plans, the world remained oblivious to their existence. The clash with the Krang unfolded on the grand stage of a city gripped by extraterrestrial invasion. News headlines screamed about the otherworldly menace, and the public grappled with the unnerving reality of aliens attempting to seize control. However, even in the midst of the chaos, the Turtles operated in the shadows, their deeds concealed from the prying eyes of the world.

With the last bite of breakfast savored, (Y/n) cleared the table, depositing the dishes into the sink. The clink of utensils against porcelain punctuated the lingering thoughts of the impending battle against the advanced Krang. As they washed the dishes, the warm water serving as a brief respite, their mind danced between the mundane and the extraordinary. Drying their hands, (Y/n) made their way back to the room, the familiar weight of textbooks and study materials awaiting them. The desk, scattered with notes from the previous night's studies, was a testament to the dual life they led.

Just as they settled into the rhythm of academic focus, the phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with Donatello's name. The ringtone cut through the air, a stark contrast to the quiet of the room. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment before answering, curiosity mingling with a sense of anticipation. (Y/n) answered the phone, a casual "Hey, what's up?" escaping their lips as they prepared to dive back into their studies. Donatello's voice crackled through the line, a mix of urgency and excitement. "Hey, (Y/n), we need you at the lair tonight. We need to plan our next move." Before (Y/n) could respond, the phone abruptly changed hands, and Raphael's gruff voice took over. "Enough with the chit-chat. Be at the lair at 8 pm sharp. We're starting training again." The abrupt change in tone caught (Y/n) off guard, and they could almost picture Raphael forcefully grabbing the phone from Donatello.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, contemplating the stack of homework awaiting their attention. "I've got a ton of homework to tackle, so I might be a bit late," they admitted, hoping to buy some time. Before (Y/n) could dwell on their decision, Michelangelo's voice burst through the phone, "Hey, dude! No worries! I can totally help you with the homework. We'll make it fun, I promise!" A smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips at Mikey's infectious enthusiasm. However, the phone changed hands once again, and Leo's authoritative tone cut through the conversation. "Homework can wait, (Y/n). Be at the lair at 8. We need everyone ready for training. No exceptions." In the background, Raphael's gruff voice chimed in, "Mikey, you ain't smart enough to help (Y/n) with homework. Stick to pizza or somethin'."

(Y/n) couldn't help but smile at the banter between Raphael and Michelangelo. The familial dynamic, woven with teasing and camaraderie, was a constant in their lives. "Alright, Leo. I'll be there at 8," they replied, a sense of determination coloring their words. (Y/n) concluded the phone call with a sense of purpose. Turning their attention to the awaiting homework, they settled into the familiar routine of academia. Little did they know, the brothers had been thinking about them nonstop since last night, their concerns and camaraderie woven into the fabric of their thoughts.

Meanwhile, in the lair, the familiar sounds of training echoed through the air. Raphael lifted weights with a determined focus, the rhythmic clinking and grunts punctuating the quiet. Donatello, engrossed in his work, continued analyzing the black ooze with unwavering concentration, the glow of computer screens casting an ethereal light on his face. Leonardo, katana blades in hand, methodically sharpened the edges with practiced precision. The silence that permeated the lair was finally broken by Michelangelo. He paused mid-nunchuck routine, looking around at his brothers with a furrowed brow. "Okay, dudes, they’re back, and now everything is weird between all of us. I thought we were all past this," he blurted out, breaking the unspoken tension.

Michelangelo's words hung in the air, causing a collective pause in the lair's activities. The clang of weights ceased, Donatello's fingers hovered above the keyboard, and even Leonardo, mid-katana sharpening, looked up with a contemplative expression. Raphael, the first to break the stillness, carefully placed his weights down and sat up, his gaze meeting Michelangelo's. "Mikey's got a point," he grumbled, the usually gruff tone softened by a rare sincerity. "We all know not to let personal feelings get in the way of the mission." Michelangelo nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yeah, but we can't pretend like things are the same as before. (Y/n) coming back stirred up some serious vibes, and we can't just ignore it."

Raphael fixed Michelangelo with a scrutinizing look, a silent acknowledgment of the truth hidden in his words. "So, what's your brilliant plan, Mikey?" A mischievous grin unfurled across Michelangelo's face as he leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We stage a showdown! Each of us makes a friendly move towards (Y/n), nothing too forward, just see who they vibe with the most! That way, we settle this debate once and for all!" The suggestion hung in the air, a blend of mischief and camaraderie that even Raphael, usually skeptical of Mikey's schemes, couldn't help but find amusing.

Donatello looked up from his screens, his analytical mind processing Michelangelo's proposal. "So, what you're implying, Mikey," he interjected, his tone thoughtful, "is that we each try our hand at flirting with (Y/n) to see if there's any discernible response. If they show interest in one of us, then it becomes clear who they've chosen, and we can put an end to all this unnecessary bickering over one person we all somehow found ourselves liking." Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged glances, a shared smirk of approval passing between them. "Hey, I'm game for a little friendly competition," Raph conceded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Totally, dude! It's like, may the best brother win!" Michelangelo chimed in, eager for the lighthearted challenge.

However, as the excitement began to build, Leonardo interjected with a pointed expression. "Guys, our main focus should be the mission, not swooning over (Y/n). We have a bigger problem at hand with the advanced Krang, and we can't afford distractions." The weight of Leonardo's reminder hung in the air, briefly stifling the previous excitement. A contemplative silence enveloped the lair, each brother grappling with the dual responsibilities of personal dynamics and the pressing mission against the advanced Krang. Breaking the quiet, Raphael's gruff voice cut through the stillness. "Leo, you don't gotta be a part of the competition. We're focusing on the mission, but that don't mean we can't handle a little friendly competition on the side. No harm in doing two things at once, right?"

Michelangelo, always the one to inject a bit of humor into the situation, grinned and chimed in, "Guys, come on! I'm the king of multitasking! This won't be a problem. We'll save the city and figure out who's (Y/n)'s choice all at once. Easy-peasy, dudes!" Donatello, the perennial voice of reason, interjected with a measured tone, "Actually, Mikey might be onto something. If we know who (Y/n) chooses, it could help the team focus more on the mission. Clearing up this uncertainty might just streamline our efforts and eliminate any potential distractions." His words carried a thoughtful consideration, revealing the strategic mind always at work beneath the surface. As each brother put forth their perspectives and proposals, a thoughtful silence settled in the lair. Leonardo, the de facto leader, took a moment to absorb the varied opinions. After a beat, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked at his brothers. "You're all going to lose," he declared, his tone carrying a playful confidence that hinted at a deeper understanding of the situation.

As the day shifted into evening, the ambient glow of the sunset cast warm hues across (Y/n)'s apartment. The fading daylight painted the city in a canvas of oranges and purples, signaling the approaching twilight. Through the window, the gentle glow served as a natural cue, letting them know it was time to get ready for the gathering at the lair. Closing the textbooks with a decisive snap, (Y/n) tidied up their desk, neatly stacking the study materials. The weight of academia, at least for the moment, lifted from their shoulders. As they moved to the bathroom, the familiar routine of putting on the ninja outfit took over. In the quiet solitude of their apartment, the rustling of fabric and the faint click of clasps echoed. The transition from the role of a student to that of a ninja felt almost seamless, a dance perfected through years of practice.

Holstering the wakizashi with a practiced fluidity, (Y/n) ensured that every piece of their ninja attire was securely in place. The weight of the weapon served as a constant reminder of the responsibilities they bore. Anticipating an extended stay at the lair, (Y/n) grabbed their overnight bag, filling it with essentials. The faint jingle of items settling in the bag resonated with a sense of readiness. (Y/n) left the apartment, the door closing behind them with a soft click. As they moved through the city, the night unveiled its own enchanting palette. The distant hum of urban life became a symphony, a medley of distant sirens, murmurs of conversations, and the occasional laughter echoing through the labyrinth of buildings.

Scaling the top of the buildings, (Y/n) trailed the skyline of New York. The city lights, like a blanket of stars below, painted the night in a dazzling array of colors. Each skyscraper stood as a sentinel, silhouetted against the deep indigo sky. The occasional gust of wind ruffled their ninja attire as they surveyed the city, a landscape alive with the ebb and flow of nocturnal activity. Down below, the streets were adorned with the glow of streetlights and the intermittent streaks of passing cars. The city's heartbeat pulsed beneath them, a rhythmic reminder of the vibrant life that continued even as they tread the shadows. The moon, a soft crescent in the sky, cast a gentle glow, illuminating the architecture in a silver sheen. For a moment, (Y/n) stood atop the world, the night scenery stretching out before them—a captivating blend of serenity and urban energy. With one last glance, they leaped across the rooftops, disappearing into the city's embrace as they made their way towards the lair.

(Y/n) descended into the entrance of the sewer, the familiar transition from the surface to the subterranean depths. The sound of the city above gradually faded, replaced by the echoing drip of water and the subtle hum of machinery in the tunnels below. The sewer tunnels, a complex labyrinth beneath the city, became a silent realm as (Y/n) walked through them with a practiced ease. The dim glow of sporadic overhead lights illuminated the narrow path, casting long shadows along the curved walls. The steady drip of water echoed in the distance, creating a rhythmic backdrop to their journey.

(Y/n) was, at first glance, nothing more than a human—no supernatural strength, no heightened senses. Yet, the mastery they possessed over the art of ninjutsu spoke volumes about the transformative power of dedication and training. Every movement was deliberate, every step calculated, a testament to the teachings of Master Splinter. In the dim light of the sewer tunnels, (Y/n)'s form seemed to blend seamlessly with the shadows. The ninja garb, though worn by a mere mortal, became an extension of their being. Each twist and turn through the tunnels was executed with precision, a silent dance that betrayed the extensive training undergone in the lair. The teachings of Master Splinter had carved a path from novice to adept, turning a regular human into a formidable force in the art of stealth and combat. The essence of the ninja, the discipline, and the indomitable spirit, radiated from (Y/n) even in their purely human form.

Master Splinter had retired from teaching after the intense battle against the Krang three years ago, passing the revered role of 'Sensei' to Leonardo. The wise old rat found solace in the shadows, leaving the physical rigors of training to the capable hands of his students. However, (Y/n) never ceased their own training, even during the time away for college. The teachings of Master Splinter had become ingrained in their very being, and the responsibility of personal growth and development was a commitment they held dear. The lair, with its echoes of past training sessions and the scent of the sewers, remained a haven for (Y/n)'s ongoing journey as a ninja. The passing of the sensei's mantle to Leo may have shifted the dynamics, but the dedication to the art of ninjutsu endured in the heart of the relentless student.

(Y/n) entered the lair, the familiar surroundings enveloping them in a sense of home. However, an unsettling stillness lingered in the air. The lair, usually abuzz with the energy of the brothers, was eerily quiet. The absence of their usual banter and the sight of empty spaces left (Y/n) with a disconcerting feeling. Moving through the lair, (Y/n) looked around, expecting to encounter the vibrant presence of the turtles, but there was only silence. (Y/n) continued to walk through the lair, a growing sense of concern prompting them to check each room in search of the missing brothers. The first room they entered was the living area, usually alive with the brothers' camaraderie. The absence of laughter and the sight of empty couches painted a stark contrast to its usual vibrancy. The glow of the TV screen reflected off the vacant space, creating an eerie ambiance.

Moving deeper into the lair, (Y/n) entered the kitchen. The countertops, usually scattered with pizza boxes and snacks, were immaculately clean. The silence in the room underscored the stark contrast to the typical hubbub of the turtles preparing their favorite meals. Entering the training area, (Y/n) expected to find the brothers honing their skills. However, the training dummies stood untouched, and the weapons neatly arranged on the racks hinted at a lingering absence. The lack of the usual echoes of clashing weaponry added to the disquieting atmosphere. In the lab, where Donatello spent countless hours tinkering and analyzing, the glow of computer screens illuminated an unoccupied workspace. The absence of the usual hum of machines and the scent of chemicals hanging in the air left (Y/n) with a growing sense of unease.

As (Y/n) ventured through each room, the lair revealed itself as a quiet, solitary space, devoid of the usual signs of the brothers' presence. The empty rooms echoed with an unsettling emptiness, leaving (Y/n) with a gnawing sense of worry about the whereabouts of their turtle companions.

I hope you enjoyed chapter 2 of 'A Maze of Hearts'! This is a work-in-progress story, however, if you are interested please let me know by liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. I will be posting chapter three in the near future so come back later to check if it's there! Thank you.

Teaser / Navigation

Ch 1 Ch 3

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rpings · 29 days

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Our first plot update and spring event just dropped!

We are a semi-private dark academia thriller with horror themes and a mature rating of 3/3/3 - which means dark and unsettling themes might be explored and all members must be at least 18 years old to join the board and all characters must be 21+.

All character / faceclaim ages, occupations, and maturity details are in our server and guidebook.

Our community is friendly and passionate, and most, if not all of us, are queer! If the premise of "be gay, do crimes" of dark academia sounds interesting to you, stop by for a vibe check!

⋆⁺₊ " 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐄. " ₊˚.⋆

Inspired by The Secret History, by Donna Tartt - The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde - Kill Your Darlings, by John Krokidas, and many other classics of academic and somber literature, twisting some Penny Dreadful, Sherlock Holmes, and Frankenstein into the mix, Noctivagus is a (darker)dark academia murder mystery with subtle supernatural aspects & horror at its core. We could begin by inquiring: Who killed Nikolai Lancaster? But we’d have to go way deeper to truly grasp the horrors and half-truths hidden beneath fine silk and stone walls.

From all corners of the world, the legacies of the elite, the prodigies, the intelligent minds, the skilled hands… All gathered in the most renowned university in Britain, left to wonder: What is power when life is no more?

And is the earthly power, power at all?

Perhaps the distorted shadows you’ve caught with the corner of your eye are nothing but a consequence of the sleepless nights drowned in coffee to deliver that assignment long due, perhaps the rumors of a cryptic figure by the woods are only made to terrify the freshmen, perhaps the haunted lake is only a name and maybe, just maybe, the chapel’s undergrounds are only a myth.

The abyss of the unknown swallows you whole if you dare to look at it - and there is excellence to achieve, expectations to meet, and so much filth to hide.

By the time one answer is given, thousands are taken.

And a murder that happened twelve months ago suddenly seems insignificant.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 | 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗

#jcink rp #jcink premium #site advertisement #horror rp #supernatural rp #3 months #semi-private

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stmagnusacademy · 3 months

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ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ✧ ᴊᴄɪɴᴋ ᴘʀᴇᴍɪᴜᴍ ✧ ɴᴏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ✧ ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ ᴀᴘᴘ ✧ 21+

⋆⁺₊ " 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐄. " ₊˚.⋆

Inspired by The Secret History, by Donna Tartt - The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde - Kill your Darlings, by John Krokidas and many other classics of academic and somber literature, twisting some Penny Dreadful, Sherlock Holmes and Frankenstein into the mix, Noctivagus is a (darker) dark academia murder mystery with subtle supernatural aspects & horror at its core.

We could begin by inquiring: Who killed Nikolai Lancaster?

But we’d have to go way deeper to truly grasp the horrors and half truths hidden beneath fine silk and stone walls. From all corners of the world, the legacies of the elite, the prodigies, the intelligent minds, the skilled hands… All gathered in the most renowned university of Britain, left to wonder: What is power when life is no more? And is the earthly power, power at all?

Perhaps the distorted shadows you’ve catched with the corner of your eye is nothing but a consequence of the sleepless nights drown on coffee to deliver that assignment long due, perhaps the rumors of a cryptic figure by the woods are only made to terrify the freshmans, perhaps the haunted lake is only a name and maybe, just maybe, the chapel’s undergrounds are only a myth.

The abyss of the unknown swallows you whole, if you dare to look at it - and there is excellence to achieve, expectations to meet, so much filth to hide.

By the time one answer is given, thousands are taken.

And a murder which happened twelve months ago suddenly seems insignificant.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 | 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗

#jcink premium #jcink site #jcink #jcink rp #jcink roleplay #jcink ad #dark academia rp #horror rp #dark academia

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shakespearesdaughters · 7 months

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#dark academia #dark academia aesthetic #darkest academia #darkest academia aesthetic #light academia #not my oc #chaotic academia #light academia aesthetic #romantic academia #somber academia

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melliotwrites · 1 year

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Hi! I just stumbled onto you two while browsing the Sondheim tag, and it's awesome to see other musical writers on tumblr! I have one that is currently being workshopped, which is super exciting (it's also dark academia coincidentally!)

Anyhow, I was wondering, do you have any advice on letting go? I have a cast and director for the workshop, and they are BRILLIANT, but I still struggle sometimes with them taking my work and running with it. Inherently I know their choices are awesome and will make the work greater than I could make it alone, but it's still really hard to put that in others' hands- even though I'm incredibly thankful for their participation and help, it's this weird dichotomy. I'd appreciate any words of wisdom you have to share!!!

Hi!! Great to see and meet other musical writers on tumblr (I love Frankenstien and Dracula, so your show sounds right up my alley!) This is also a really good question- we'll try to do it justice! I'm also going to be talking mostly about Adamandi, because that process is fresher in my mind and was more akin to a professional rehearsal process (with a longer timeline, bigger budget, etc).

Speaking as Mel, the practice of collaborating on the book and lyrics prepared me a little bit for creative compromises in the rehearsal room (I know you said elsewhere you work better on your own, which is very valid- I just know for sure now that I don't). I had already experienced the joy and excitement of seeing Elliot's ideas enhance my own (and, honestly, seen concrete proof of how much better my work got when I let other people into my work as collaborators!) By the time Georgina Escobar became our director for Adamandi, I was prepared to step back a little bit more- and also knew I would have to, because I totally had that personality trait that makes me put inflection indicators on all my lines and grind my teeth when something is staged differently from how I envisioned it. Adamandi was still a learning process for me in that regard, but I think my couple of tips would be:

Respect other people's skills- AND ask for yours to be respected. Especially as a student writer, I've sometimes experienced people (who aren't the director) giving us unsolicited feedback on the writing of the script, which I hated until I realized I sometimes accidentally did the same to my collaborators- I still cringe thinking about giving really picky notes to our sound designer, or asking our lighting designer to change One Singular Light (tech week is an altered state for us all 😔). It's helped me to remember your director, your actors, and your designers all have specific, highly specialized skills in what they do, so make sure you're not telling your director how to direct, your actors how to act, etc. Vice versa, you are the writer because you have skills in storytelling that they don't (or that they are not being asked to bring to this project)- so own that! Defend the story to your last breath, but let your opinions on how that story is specifically delivered go (e.g. you can't say "make that lighting cue blue because I always imagined it as blue," but you can say "The tone of this scene is really somber because xyz character has to realize y- do you have any ideas on how that could be reflected in the lighting?" or "the pink polka-dotted spinning light cue gave me the impression this scene was really upbeat and cheery- could you walk me through why you chose that one?" Bonus points that the latter two can help you realize something about the work- or how the work is perceived- that you didn't know before!) ~Mel

Everyone has incredibly different lived experiences, and trust in the ability of your collaborators to see and add depth to your work that you had no idea was there. Whether this is an actor coming up with a culturally specific backstory for their character or a director noticing a fun parallel between scenes that you didn't originally intend, it's always exciting to see how others are analyzing your work (to which you can go "Oh, yeah, I totally thought of that!" etc., etc.) It's like adding layers to a painting. For example, I (Elliot) am a Chinese-Canadian gay man. Working with collaborators, I gained valuable insight (and revision fodder) through how actors connected to characters' stories through their nonbinary identity, or how our director as a bisexual woman envisioned a tender moment in our sapphic plotline, or how certain configurations of actors could mirror paintings of Catholic saints -- all things I could've never realized, understood, or articulated as well on my own. - Elliot

Trust your director (and ask your director!) to ask you questions. (For example, on the flip side of #2, your team might not share the lived experiences you brought into your writing, so trust in them to ask for your expertise when they need it!) This really depends on the structure of your rehearsal room- Georgina is also a playwright, so her process was super inclusive of us as the writers. She allowed us to be there every rehearsal and would ask us questions when she wanted our input on a staging choice, an acting choice, or a bit of table work- and not ask us questions when she didn't, which is equally important! Often I discovered something new about a scene (or found out that a bit of writing needed to be edited) when she wanted to try something out that I wasn't quite sure about (the spooky underscoring under the pyre scene was all Georgina's idea, for example!) This dynamic was established before we even entered the rehearsal room, when Georgina asked us about the timeline (fast) and about how much input we would have on the final vision of the show (which ended up being lots). I'm also excited to have future collaborations where I get to step back more, but it was the right thing for the project timeline and a workshop process. Deciding early on what our communication would look like, and really trusting that she would ask us when something could compromise the story, made it easier to sit back and watch everyone play around and experiment in the reho room without biting my nails. - Mel

If you have the chance to be in the rehearsal room, put yourself out there as a resource! You created this world, so you're there to share if someone's confused or curious about your artistic intentions. You're also there to get excited about others' ideas and give them Word of God approval! A good collaboration doesn't have to be wholly relinquishing your writing into others' hands. If you feel a little helpless, talk to your director to see if there's a way y'all can be communicating better, or running rehearsals differently, etc. - Elliot

Use your vetos sparingly. Sometimes something just... doesn't work. The scene is playing as romantic instead of predatory. That really cool extra special costume piece is falling off the actor's head every two seconds. The lighting cue that you personally suggested to create a spooky ambience really just makes it hard to see anything. And everyone else seems to love it! As the writer, IF something is in your lane, IF it is significantly impacting the story, IF it's too important to just let slide for this production, AND people will think it was your choice... you are within your rights to put your foot down. But this should only happen as an absolute last resort, and in my opinion you don't get more than 3 a production, so really think about whether that jacket-that's-a-little-more-red-than-blood-orange is worth wasting one. Having a rule for the maximum number of these helps me be more generous and chill out a little if something's not exactly right. -Mel

As a last resort- hit the bricks! This isn't my ideal collaboration structure, and it depends on what your director wants out of you, but if watching someone take apart your script in rehearsal is too stressful, it's been good to remember I can also leave. Sometimes it's hard (but good) to internalize that once your show is up on its feet, you're not strictly necessary anymore- you're vestigial, or mostly there to collect data, like a scientist. Occasionally some of my own experiences that I wrote into Adamandi would get too intense for me to watch in rehearsal(I might talk about that some other time- wild experience), or struggling to figure out a scene hit me with the good old "am I a good writer" fears. Having a co-writer like Elliot who was comfortable taking over in those moments- as well as a director-SM team who understood this about me and would come find me if something was dire- allowed me to step out for a few moments and recover my sense of perspective. It's just theater. For Princes, we weren't in the rehearsal room very much at all, and it still turned out lovely and very close to our vision- with the added bonus of delightful surprises we hadn't written in! In these moments I like to imagine all the old playwrights revolving in their graves like dynamos over all the productions of their work nowadays that cut it down, rewrite it, and abridge it- and consider reinterpretation a compliment. ~Mel

Hope this helps! Break a leg with your workshop!

#musical theater #musicals #answered #musical theatre writing #cashthecomposer

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sarahjtv · 2 years

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BNHA Chapter 362 Spoilers

It’s been a hot year since I last posted my spoiler thoughts on My Hero Academia, but I need to talk about Chapter 362 because holy shit. Buckle up, ‘cause this is LONG:

I was screaming and internally crying all night last night when I read the summary of this chapter. Bakugo is probably dead. The second main protagonist of this story might be dead. This is probably the most shocking thing I’ve seen in MHA since Deku left UA and Bakugo apologized. Like, I was flabbergasted.

I am still devastated, but I have to give props to Horikoshi for having the titanium balls to even do this. He’s killed off characters in this story before, but this is truly something else. Nighteye, for example, was so, so sad. I cried for his death. Bakugo’s death absolutely stunned me because I never thought Horikoshi would do this.

Also, Horikoshi is a sadistic evil genius for making this the last chapter before holiday break in Japan next week. So basically, Shonen Jump’s on break and we’re not getting chapters of a lot of manga for 2 whole weeks including MHA. Horikoshi straight up left us on Bakugo’s possible death for 2 fucking weeks.

I also wonder how long Horikoshi has been planning this because you know he loves playing the long game.

So, Katsuki Bakugo. Yeah, he looks pretty dead in that last panel. I don’t think he’s perma-dead personally. There’s still some of his quirk going on in his left eye and I doubt Horikoshi would really kill off one of, if not the, best character in his series permanently. Horikoshi also said that Bakugo would have a BIG moment in this final arc and that really hasn’t happen yet. Yeah, that massive cluster was awesome, but it lasted not even half a chapter. Bakugo still has a bigger role to play.

I gotta say, though, putting in that flashback of when Bakugo and Deku got those All Might trading cards and revealing that Bakugo’s been carrying his in his pocket the entire series breaks my heart into a million pieces. He really does idolize All Might and him looking up to his vestige only solidifies that. God, that genuine smile though. I’m ruined, guys.

Also Bakugo still thinking of how he’s going to match IZUKU while on Death’s Door is both so sweet and so devastating.

Now, what’s going to happen to Bakugo from here. Honestly, I don’t know. Again, I don’t think he’s going to die forever, but there’s a few things that could happen:

Eri: We don’t know where she is now, but they could bring her back to Rewind Bakugo’s body to before it got crushed by Shigi/AFO. We don’t know if her Quirk works on dead body’s though.

Bakugo Stays Dead: This would make the manga as a whole so much more somber, but Deku’s reaction would make him lose his shit. I can see him being so sad and angry that he absolutely wrecks so many people without a hint of rational thinking. I don’t like seeing my green son hurt, but it would be really good storytelling and character development if it did happen.

Bakugo is in Limbo and his Spirit is in The Vestige World: This is what I think is happening right now. It’s really, really interesting that Bakugo saw All Might’s vestige before he died. Before, the only living person who witnessed this was Deku. So, why Bakugo?

Connection with OFA: Bakugo did have OFA in the 2nd movie, albeit briefly. I think the 2nd movie is canon, but it’s only been hinted at in the main manga with Nine having a brief appearance. Similar to how Melissa from the 1st movie is hinted at with her inventions being in the main manga. If the 2nd movie is canon, then it would be possible that Bakugo would still have hints OFA still in him and that could bring him to the vestige world. I can’t imagine what it’d be like if Deku found out about Bakugo’s death like THIS.

Relation to the 2nd OFA User: AFO said that Bakugo remind him of the 2nd User. We also had a panel in a previous chapter that compared the two as well. My theory of Bakugo being a decedent of the 2nd User is becoming more true, I think. This would give Bakugo more of a connection to OFA, the Vestige World, and the 2nd User’s Quirk maybe. Maybe that Quirk could bring him to life.

Bottom line: I think Bakugo is dead for now, but he’ll be back. Not sure how or when, but he has to come back. Horikoshi knows that Bakugo is too important of a character to be killed off for pure shock value. Katsuki Bakugo is not done yet.

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oldshrewsburyian · 2 years

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You caught exactly the vibe I’m going for! Basically books that make me want to curl up in a sweater with tea and miss academia and think somber thoughts about mortality and transitions 😂😂 I almost added Gaudy Night as an example of kind of the mood I wanted so I have extremely highs hopes for this list. Thank you!!!!!

Oh, superb! Delighted that your definition of "cozy" includes prolonged meditations on mortality (for nothing is as certain as death, and nothing less certain than the hour of death.)

#asks and answers #season of mists #autumn #gaudy night #gaud squad

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therpdirectory · 3 months

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ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ✧ ᴊᴄɪɴᴋ ᴘʀᴇᴍɪᴜᴍ ✧ ɴᴏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ✧ ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ ᴀᴘᴘ ✧ 21+

⋆⁺₊ " 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐄. " ₊˚.⋆

We could begin by inquiring: Who killed Nikolai Lancaster?

The abyss of the unknown swallows you whole, if you dare to look at it - and there is excellence to achieve, expectations to meet, so much filth to hide.

By the time one answer is given, thousands are taken.

And a murder which happened twelve months ago suddenly seems insignificant.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑

#jcink rp #jcink premium #site ad #real life #sandbox

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xxxlovedandlostxxx · 1 year

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CHARACTER SOCIAL PRESENTATION & CONDUCT

based around what the general outward perception would be of your muse based on their social habits. we as writers and rp partners know the ins and outs of characters, but i think a lot about how those characters would actually be perceived by those around them who only have their interactions to go off of. usual rules: repost don’t reblog, bold for always, italicized for sometimes and strikethrough for never or n/a.

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: They don’t normally. Anthony is quite content to be in his own world, reading or doing research, even in public areas. He’ll only approach if he really needs to, or if the person is hot enough lol. But when that’s the case, he just puts himself in their line of sight, hurriedly comes up with some words and rehearses them mentally, and walks up.

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕/𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐: Same as above, but with more prep, I should hope.

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎: warm. cold. guarded. welcoming. friendly. rigid. skeptical. judgmental. chatty. shy. timid. outgoing. easily initiates conversation. waits for someone else to begin conversation. closed-off. intimidating. approachable. cheerful. internally wary. externally wary. small talk. eager to become personable. avoids overly personal topics and questions. likes meeting new people. neutral about meeting new people. anxious when meeting new people. dislikes meeting new people.

𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: social butterfly. wallflower. stays close to those they know. willing to branch out on their own. comfortable. thriving. anxious. wary. hyper-vigilant. observant. self-absorbed. attentive. distracted. disassociates. overwhelmed easily. extroverted. introverted. ambivert. people watches. inclusive. exclusive. hospitable. unapproachable. charismatic. purposefully attracts attention to themselves. unintentionally attracts attention to themselves. charmingly awkward. uncomfortably awkward. suave. unassuming. PRETENTIOUS. code-switching.

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝: attentive. distractible. dominates. listens. well-balanced. shares. withholds. keeps focus on the other. likes to keep focus on themselves. tries to keep a balanced exchange of attention. opens up easily. avoids vulnerability. encourages vulnerability in others. uncomfortable with displays of vulnerability. rambles. concise. wordy. swears casually. swears conservatively. never swears. descriptive. vague. blunt. flowery. analogies. wandering topics. stays on topic. meandering. focused. tangents. reserved. poised. expressive. easily ends interaction. finds ways to continue interaction. lingers until the other indicates they’re done. anxious to fill silence. comfortable with silence.

𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍? Anthony is masked, and appears unmasked when falling apart in the privacy of home after forced social interactions. When he’s not home, he’ll forget facts, or drift at various moments, sometimes even mid-sentence, or someone will discover a huge blind-spot in their skillset. He’ll also tend to stop talking to even close friends for a long time, but not because he’s mad. Its more like time gets away from him, or it doesn’t occur to him that he should check in, and he comes back weeks or months later like nothing happened.

𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: colorful. muted. neutrals. neons. pastels. academic. office. business casual. casual. business formal. camp. conservative. sensual. bright. dark. frilly. form fitting. somber. plain. whimsical. rigid. monochromatic. light academia. dark academia. alternative. goth. punk. grunge. pastel goth. boho. ethnic traditional. modernized traditional. glamorous. elegant. experimental. vintage. artsy. chic. follows trends. doesn’t pay attention to trends. vibrant. practical. sporty. androgynous. femme. masc.

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎? Verse dependent, but across verses, his clothes are usually fitted, or perhaps even tailored. Sturdy but plush, high quality fabrics.

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑e𝚢: visits them, asks if they want a massage, orders food for them. Always makes a mental note to see if he should arrange for other basic needs to be seen to- like prescriptions, or laundry, always forgets unless that problem is right in front of him.

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝: Anthony is very proud.... He’d rather hide that he needs anything than show ‘weakness’. Whether he accepts help is strongly dependent on the person offering the help, and how much he trusts them, or verse dependent.

𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎: QUIET. Aloof. Probably seems way more stuck up than he is.

tagged by: @taiinted tysm! this was fun! tagging: @adsagsona , @wehavefoundthestars , @ofmages , @artifexx , @lostxndbroken , @iincantatorum , @southerndilf , @handful-of-muses , @wolfxdayz , @lovepurposed , And anyone else who sees this!

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