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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months

Note

I know you've done a game recommendations post about lighthearted solo games, but do you have any suggestions for someone's first solo ttrpg/journaling game?

THEME: First-Time Solo Games!

Hello friend! I sure do have some recommendations! Many of the games I present here are representative of a larger type, so you might be able to find other games within that category by browsing the related tags on itch.io. Most of the games require dice, and many of the games require decks of cards. Other than that, you shouldn’t need anything too fancy or elaborate to play these kinds of games!

The Sky City Charade, by Ashley Morgan’s Games.

Elysia. Midtown. Someone rich was murdered. And you, a private detective from the lowest reaches of Sky City, have been tasked to find out why.

This is a solo journalling game based on the Hints and Hijinx system from Pandion Games. Create a character and navigate through a cyberpunk city stretching into the heavens, dealing with whatever it throws at you.

Using polyhedral dice, a deck of cards, something to journal with, and your own imagination, see if you can bring this case to a satisfying close by actually solving it and finding out who is behind this mysterious crime, and why you were asked to solve it.

Hints and Hijinx games use a pack of cards and a deteriorating dice mechanic to generate a story. In The Sky City Charade, you’ll assign your two highest dice (a d10 and a d12) to two stats: Smarts & Tough. Every roll you make in an effort to find a clue has a chance of giving you what you’re looking for, but also a chance of making future rolls harder. The game is divided into three phases: Setup, Investigation, and Closure. You’ll spend most of your time in the Investigation phase, visiting locations and drawing cards to determine what kind of complications arise in your efforts to solve the mystery.

What I like about this kind of game is the structure. There’s clear instructions for each section of play, and the deteriorating dice mechanic ensures that you both think carefully about when to look for clues and also finish play within a reasonable time frame. I also enjoy the thoughtful world building that went into the location creation for this game; the author knows what kind of world they want to present you with, and they deliver.

If you want more games of this system, I’d recommend checking out the Hints and Hijinx Jam!

Beast at Bay, by Ive Sorocuk.

You arrive back in your hometown.The journey was long.You have little memory of it but you do recall being attacked by some form of beast. A beast you can still feel deep within you, wanting to get out.

Beast at Bay is a solo rpg/journaling game that uses the Second Guess System. It’s a pretty simple game, only one page long, with a Humanity tracker and a list of 20 prompts. You roll a d20 and answer a question from the prompt list, adjusting the Humanity tracker as needed.

The Second Guess System thrives on re-rolls, and frames rolling the same prompt twice as a chance to examine your character’s uncertainty - was their original answer truly what was going on, or is there something hidden, possibly even from themself? In Beast at Bay, every time you must re-examine a question, you will need to roll a d6 to determine whether you lose Humanity. The game ends when you either reach 6 or fall to 0. If you like quick-to-read games that can be played in approximately 30 minutes, then I’d recommend checking out this game.

You can find other Second Guess Games in the Second Guess Jam!

Weeds in the Waste, by Meghan Cross.

Weeds in the Waste is a solo storytelling game about tending a garden in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Determine the state of your wasteland, create your gardener, plant your seeds, and tend your garden as you play through the seasons in the wastes. It is a narrative, storytelling game played using 2d6s and a 6x6 grid, as well as a series of prompts.

Grid-based games give you visual references that can help you visualize what is going on in your game world. They also give you a chance to strategize a little bit, especially if the dice you’re rolling will affect the map, like in this game. Despite the fact that this game happens in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, I still feel like some part of it is a cozy game. You’re not saving the world or fighting your inner darkness in Weeds in the Waste; you’re growing plants and striving to make your garden a place of hope. Much of the prompts provided are aimed at building up the world around you, whether that be weather events, celebrations, or the kinds of plants you are attempting to grow.

If you like games with lower stakes and visual references, I recommend this game. If you want other grid-based games with different themes, I’d recommend Wonderfall, by Catscratcher Studio, and Exclusion Zone Botanist, by Exuent Press.

Anamnesis, by Sam Leigh, Blinking Birch Games.

Anamnesis is a 24-page solo journaling RPG about self-discovery, reflection, and identity.

You play as an individual who has woken up with memory loss. You do not remember who you are, where you are, or what you care about. As you draw tarot cards, you fill the blank spaces of your past and learn more about your present. All that is needed to play is a deck of tarot cards and a way to record your thoughts.

Explore your character’s backstory through five acts, divided up using the four suits and major arcana of a tarot deck. This game is highly interpretive, giving you prompts to answer but depending upon your interpretation of tarot cards in order to determine the kinds of details that you’ll end up filling out. The fact that it uses a tarot deck may be it’s biggest obstacle if you don’t already own a tarot deck, but if you do own a tarot deck you’ll likely already have some experience when it comes to interpreting the cards, and so I don’t know if the openness of interpretation is that much of a hurdle when it comes to playing this game.

What I do know is that Anamnesis has won several awards, and is pretty well-known in the gaming scene. There’s both digital and physical copies, and the creator offers both discounted damaged copies as well as community copies pretty regularly. There’s also an Anamnesis Jam with many other Anamnesis - inspired games for you to check out!

The Sealed Library, by Sealed Library.

The Sealed Library is a solo journaling RPG played with a deck of cards, a tumbling block tower and a notebook/scroll.

You are the sole surviving librarian of the greatest library in history. It sits in the centre of culture for an ancient land, now fallen to invaders. They pillage and raze.

The library has been barricaded and you are under siege. What important texts can you move down into the vaults and seal away forever before the barricade breaks? What will future generations discover inside the Sealed Library?

Wretched & Alone games such as this one usually recommend a Jenga tower but I’ve found them very playable without one. All you really need is a deck of cads, a six-sided dice, and some tokens, which can be anything (I use poker chips). Personally, I think the biggest con is the tone of the games - most Wretched & Alone games are meant to be tragic or horrific. For example, in The Sealed Library, you are a librarian trying to save as much of the library as possible before invaders knock down the doors and kill you, or before you die of starvation.

These games divide events in between four categories, to match the four suits of cards. In this game, these suits represent saved books, new discoveries, invader events and dwindling resources. If the tumbling tower falls, you die. If you draw all four Kings, you die. There are a few ways for your character to escape alive, but the chances of drawing the right cards in the right order are low. What I appreciate about this game is that it includes a debrief section, allowing you to process the story you have just told yourself. If you’re interested in playing out a story that may pull you into a tragedy however, games like this one may suit you.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Untitled Moth Game, by S. Kaiya J.

Osteozee, by Psychound.

Global Dragon Egg Conservation, by KuumatheBronze.

Games from the Solo But Not Alone Bundle.

#solo games #game recommendations #asks #dnd #indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #The Sealed Library is the first solo game I played

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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firstly I love your new blog layout it’s so fucking cute, secondly I love you 💕 thirdly, for your baby prompts, I’m thinking……… butterfly

happiness is a butterfly

got a little carried away with this one. 3k words of modern day!best friend!eddie munson x afab!reader. contains: fluff, alcohol, confessions of feelings, bisexual reader, two friends in a room who might kiss (they do), suggestive innuendo (eddie’s a sweetheart), and argyle’s matchmaking ways. thank you @breddiemunson and @ghost-proofbaby for always calming my wild thoughts, and katie’s line where eddie asks reader not to make him say what she already knows. genius, that one.

“happiness is a butterfly

try to catch it like every night

it escapes from my hands into moonlight…”

happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey.

Photo after photo. Swipe after swipe. Endless hopefuls that aren’t really hopefuls, because there aren’t many of those in Hawkins these days.

No—there are merely boys, wearing the skin of men, playing with hearts with a carelessness that leaves damage in their wake. Leaves your heart ripped to shreds; battered and bruised. Wounded, but not broken, with jagged lines where smooth surfaces had once been.

Tonight is no different. Tonight you mourn your relationship with Travis. Travis, who played hockey and apparently a different girl or guy in every state. You’d only found out through social media.

One of the girls he brought back to his hotel room had posted an image on her story while he slept, which then surfaced on another person’s social media account, and then eventually became a social media article on some gossip website you couldn’t, for the life of you, be bothered to remember.

You suppose the “Travis debacle,” as Eddie has been calling it, is your fault. A guy from out of town. The allure of some famous player with a broken down car in front of the Hideout, where you worked as a bartender, that you’d had your friend Eddie fix up as a favor.

You’d tossed him his keys as the sun set, burnt orange and red across the summer sky, and he’d asked, “How much?”

And suddenly you’d spent the week welcoming him around Hawkins, as well as the intricacies of your susceptible heart. Had preened and praised him while he perused his options in the next town over on his problematic apps.

The same apps you’re now frowning at, watching the population around you continue to dwindle with every pass of your thumb.

“You know, they say insanity is—”

“Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

You shoot a glare Eddie’s way, watching his dexterous fingers pull his hair back into a makeshift bun at the back of his head. Those same fingers reach down to grab your glass, chipped black nail polish capturing your attention as he draws your drink up to his lips and takes a long sip.

“Tequila. Travis really fucked up.” He chuckles. The movement has his cropped shirt billowing around his hips, tattoos on his sides visible where the holes his arms extend through as he settles down beside you. “You know, I think you need to ditch the apps. I did, and I’m much better for it.”

“You got a puppy a few weeks ago,” you point out, finger jabbing him in the ribs. He hisses, cupping his pec. “Getting a puppy is code for throwing in the towel.”

“Ozz is the cutest puppy, I’ll have you know. Look—” He waves to Gareth as he passes by, drumsticks twirling in his hands. “Delete the apps. Take a break. Isn’t there some quote about happiness? That Nathaniel Hawthorne one. You know, the ‘happiness is a butterfly’ one you used in a paper back in school.”

“One, I can’t believe you remember that.”

Your nose wrinkles at the thought of your teenage years. Of you with braces and he himself being the first person to welcome you to sit with him on your first day of school, snapping at Jason Carver when he’d brushed by you and thumped your shoulder a little too hard for his liking.

“And two, the quote is actually ‘happiness is like a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp. But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.’”

“So stop chasing it. Just let it happen. C'est la vie. Carpe diem. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”

You don’t even bother letting him know none of those things mean what he thinks they do.

“Eddie.”

He loops his arm around your neck. Presses a kiss against your temple. You lean into his embrace, comfortable warmth that seeps into your bones and floods you with familiarity.

He’s hard lines against your softer edges. Inky tapestries of collected memories that tell a tale of his adventurous life on the forearm tangled in your hair. His ring-clad fingers delight in toying with the tips, hair shifting between digits like water.

Calming and soothing Eddie. A constant in your life since you were teenagers, now going on ten years of friendship later. Someone you’ve always been able to turn to at the end of the day; someone who never once questions your motives, even if he might suggest you try different methods to your lifestyle habits.

And now, your dating habits.

“I’m just saying it’s worth a try.”

Maybe you don’t stop right away. Maybe it takes a date with Joe, Jim and Jessica to realize the truth of Eddie’s words. Maybe there’s some weight to pushing it all aside, stepping out of the way of your own preconceived timeline, and allowing someone to walk in at the right place and time.

And on a night such as this, where Corroded Coffin are getting set up on stage and citizens are packing out the bar to see the increasingly popular band play, it’s easy to remember why swiping on your phone has brought you here. To asshole Andy Lerman standing before you while you work. Basketball coach at Hawkins High and douchebag royalty from what you remember of him back in your years of teenage angst and adolescence.

He’s had a few drinks now. You know because you’ve served him. But all they’ve done is instill courage in him to step over to the girl who people teased in school for being a “freak fucker” by merely being associated with Eddie, claiming time ‘really did wonders for you.’

He’s staring at your tits when he says it, and it takes everything in you to not toss his next drink in his face. But in a town where money is hard to come by, and there’s not much to do by way of work, bartending pays the bills, and you’re not about to mess up one of the few good gigs left.

“Andy, it’s really not going to work,” you tell him, “but here. Your last one of the night…on me.”

With a quick pat to his shoulder, you send him on his merry way with a fuller pocket and a story to warp when regaling his friends with the time he pity-invited the “freak fucker” on a date.

“Don’t look now, my lady, but Eddie Munson is staring at you,” Argyle says, working on mixing a margarita beside you for a patron.

“He’s not staring at me,” you retort, sliding a vodka soda across the bar, thanking your customer for the hefty tip they toss your way. At Argyle’s raised brow, you reiterate, “he’s not.”

“He’s always staring. That’s the look Eden gives me. You know, the look of someone in l—”

Argyle’s words are cut short as Eddie appears on the other side of the bar, bare elbows pressing against the counter, hair falling out of his ponytail, bangs long overdue for a cut shifting every time he blinks.

“Are you okay?” He asks, thanking Argyle as he passes him the beer he knows he prefers. At your arching brow, he continues, “I saw Andy Lerman flirting with you. You looked uncomfortable.”

You snort, getting to work on a moscow mule. “That’s because I was uncomfortable. But I took care of it. I appreciate you always looking out, though.”

He reaches over and grabs your chin. Gives your head a little wiggle until you’re grinning against his palm. Then reaches his fingers over toward you, rests them so gently against your curled palm resting on the bar and pauses. He waits a moment and closes his ringed fingers into a fist, knocking his knuckles against yours.

Then he’s off toward the stage to get ready, leaving you with a knot in your throat and warmth prickling against your skin.

Argyle passes you a knowing smile and before you can yell at him to get back to work, embarrassment roiling in your chest, he announces he’s going to take a quick break and call his wife.

His words spin in your head once more. Comparing Eddie’s gazes to Eden’s. To the nature of the depth in which he cares for you. But you shake your head free of it.

You’ve been unlucky in love.

It couldn’t be so simple.

Argyle’s words don’t change much in regards to your Eddie conundrum.

They’re a phantom in the back of your mind. Wispy tendrils of a memory that feels distant now.

Weeks pass, and the warm heat of summer in Hawkins turns to a sweltering hell on earth.

The Hideout becomes quieter most evenings. Those with air conditioning prefer to stay home, remain by their pools, to host gatherings where alcohol and coolers are plentiful.

And you don’t blame them, letting out a long huff as you wipe down the counter, while Argyle counts your tips.

“Oh, how was that date with…Paul, was it?” He muses thoughtfully, beginning to split the money.

“Not great.”

“You said that about the last three. What was wrong with this one?”

And that’s the thing. You sit across from these people, trying to force a square into a circle, trying to sparse out the qualities that they’re lacking.

Not funny enough. Not the right hair color. They lack that unruly smile. That glimmer of brightness in their amber eyes. There’s no dimple in Paul’s cheek. No banter on your date with Jeremiah. Caleb doesn’t like metal, and Kayla thinks D&D is a breeding ground for satanism (you’d thought that one was left in the 80s, but it appears not).

“He said Dio was overrated.”

“Interesting,” Argyle laughs, shaking his head.

You whirl around, damp bar towel flicking water his way. “What’s so interesting?”

“Just funny when two people are so obviously similar and don’t even see it,” he says, humming to himself, conversation over.

And that was that.

It’s funny, you think, that it only hits you then.

Like the flutter of butterfly wings on your flowerbeds you’d managed to stumble upon earlier that morning, the flicker of wings on a bird in the sky. The soft beating of both, like the constant thump of a heart in a chest.

A constant.

It’s the word everything hitches on as you sit on that work table in your garage, watching the man who stopped everything he was doing when you’d called earlier at the drop of a hat. All just to make sure you were okay.

That same person who is now up to his elbows in grease, fingers stained an oily black. With his hair pulled away from his face, you catch the determined line of his mouth, the jut of his tongue pushing lightly against pink lips. The corded lines of his arms move as he works, barest hint of stomach on display when he reaches up to slam the hood of your car down once it’s finished.

You toss him a towel, grinning at the shadowy form of him blocking the sun from your eyes. “Sorry you’re doing this instead of the movies.”

“Stop that. You know I’m happy to spend any time with you, sweetheart,” he laughs, wiping the planes of his face that are streaked like the fingers pressing against terry cloth to keep it in place. “Fixed the alternator and did an oil change. Seeing as you always forget anyway.”

He walks over slowly, grunting when your sandaled foot kicks him playfully in the kneecap. “That was why my car made that awful sound and shut off?”

“Exactly.” He curls the towel around his neck. “Day is still young. How about we—”

“Why’d you delete all your dating apps?”

The words fall from you in a rush. A swift exhale that has Eddie’s back drawn ramrod straight. Rigid, but not with anger. Instead, you watch that full mouth part just slightly. Like the words he had been about to say were lost to the wind, left to titter away into nothingness.

He swallows audibly, palm sliding over the towel across his neck. “I…just didn’t see the point in them.”

Determination hardens your resolve. Brings to attention Argyle’s teasing these weeks. The wondering, questioning, burgeoning curiosities brimming. So you utter a simple, “Why?” and try your damndest to ignore the nerves welling up in your chest at the fear of what comes next.

“Just kind of felt like I was using them to get over someone else,” he admits, taking a step closer.

Your bare knees brush the tops of his thighs. Warmth seeps into your skin, bristles at his touch.

Dark eyes drag along your form. Along the dress you wore that evening, covered in flowers, a thin thing that would have fluttered in the wind if you and Eddie had been able to do what you’d planned for the day. Simple drive to the lake to eat some lunch, share a joint and fish (a new hobby he'd picked up from his uncle), then movies at the theater when the sun had set.

You meet his stare. Remind yourself of those eyes that had been on you the whole time Andy had leaned over the bar just weeks ago. Ready at any moment to come to your aid, should you have needed it. He’s never pushed you, never crossed the boundaries of your friendship, trusted you knew best.

But he’d always been there if you ever needed a hand.

You only ever needed to reach out.

Always.

You swallow thickly. “Who?”

“Don’t make me tell you what you already know.”

It’s quiet. A plea for pity that has your heart clenching within your chest.

But it’s not scary.

It’s not frightening at all.

Dozens of memories flash behind your eyes.

Of teenage years, laughing in the cafeteria, trading snacks, sneaking off to the woods between classes to smoke. Of you in community college, and his van screeching through the parking lot to take you to lunch between classes. Of nights at his place, your place, the movies, around town. Of ice cream at Lover’s Lake with his van doors swung wide, trying to make out the shapes of the clouds in the sky.

Birthday parties, milestones, weddings, grieved losses.

To highs and lows and everything in between. To all those shitty dates, to his own failed dating escapades. To that time you had to ice his lip in the back of the Hideout when Jeff had accidentally elbowed him in the face, or when you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard and ripped open your shin and he’d had to hold your hand while he disinfected it.

To this very moment, where he’s just finished fixing your car. To him with his dirty palm tapping lightly against your kneecap, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him.

Your head tips up and you catch the downturn of his lips, frozen in time by your prolonged silence.

Argyle was right.

“What?”

You hadn’t realized you spoke out loud, but confusion swirls behind Eddie’s gaze all the same, mollified only when your hand snakes up around the back of his neck and drags him downward to your level. Only when you pour your affection into him where you’re finally, lovingly, connected at last.

The fullness of his mouth against the softness of yours is hesitant at first, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to his current reality, before he’s tipping your head up with his hand. Until his fingers slide across your cheek, cupping you gently, easing you closer to him.

Before long he’s gripping you closer. Deft fingers in the dough of your thighs, tugging you flush against him, skirt indecently high up on your hips. But you don’t care. Not as your ankles lock around his waist, nor as he hums into your throat while he leaves a sloven path along your skin, learning the sounds you make when he’s tender, sweet—when he scores his teeth against your pulse point and you melt like putty beneath his devotion filled fingertips.

Ten years. Ten years of watching that silly butterfly float away into the sky, only for it to have been there all along.

Only for it to have been the man with his forehead against yours, noses flush together, your fingers beneath his shirt and his around the bend of your kneecaps.

You’re not sure where you start and he ends, but even that incites a new thrill, a new world to explore further. A desire to know the depths of him beyond the limit of friendship.

“Argyle got to you too, huh?” At your nod, Eddie barks out a laugh. Kisses you softly. “Fuckin’ guy thinks he’s Cupid or something.”

“I don’t want to talk about Argyle right now.”

Eddie’s lips curl into a grin. The whites of his teeth flash in your gaze, your fingers trailing along his stubble-lined jaw.

“I don’t either.” His thumb comes to swipe at your cheek, dimple in his cheek twitching slightly. “Got you a little greasy. Just…ten years, you know? Got a little carried away.”

You nod, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. He watches as you hop down from the work table, brow arching curiously as you tug him toward the door leading into your home. “Well, like you said, we’ve got ten years to catch up on. So before I kiss you more, Edward Munson, we’re going to shower.”

“We?” He swallows, voice hoarse. “Like a two people conserving water shower?”

You enter the small laundry room, humming as his chest brushes your own, his weight just enough against yours to press you into the lip of your drying machine. Cool metal chills your skin at the open back of your dress, balanced by the heat of the knee that slides between your thighs to pin you in place. Your body both buzzes with life and oozes honey into your system as you melt into him, pliant under that smoldering dark gaze of your best friend in front of you.

“We,” you nod, grinning into his kiss. “After that we’re cuddling on the couch and ordering a pizza.”

“And tomorrow…I’m taking you on a date.”

🦋

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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sporkfingers · 8 months

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Some Tang Sanzang concept art that I don’t think I’ll finish anytime soon, but whateva

The scar on his head is from a spat with wukong gone wrong, spur of the moment which he regretted after he realized what he had done-

he waited for his sifu to use the fillet tightening sultra to punish him, he’s shaking, apologizing profusely in a small voice. To his surprise he doesn’t feel the painstaking ache of the band squeezing. Instead, when he looks up he finds Tripitaka, his sifu, looking at him with a horrified look on his face. But…. He’s not scared of wukong… he’s scared of himself, if he could cause such a reaction in this godly simian, a demon that the heavens feared, then…what he had been doing…it wasn’t right, it couldn’t be.

-Lololol that’s my head canon/ my own home brew story of Jttw that I’ve been making in my mind, I like to imagine that’s the point where they’re relationship starts to turn for the better and instead of reluctant companions they become friends who wish to protect each other in every way, no matter the cost. They are representative of the mind and the heart, like in most cases they clash and argue, resent and fear each other, but when finding balance and harmony throughout their journey the mind and heart grow closer and work as one. They’re relationship to me is something more than friendship, it’s love but not romantic love, but it’s also not familial love like a father and son, though some translations of the book describe their relationship as such I’d like to think of it as something deeper. Again not romantic kissy love. These babes are Buddhists lololol but it is more than friendship. I might post my version of the story on here and you can interpret as you please, father son, a couple, friends, enemies. But know that in the end what him and sun wukong have is complex, it can not be summed up in one word. At least that’s my take on them,

Also the other scars are from demons, getting captured and such, the scar between his eyebrows he got as a baby, and the read on his wrists are from rope burn, again from being tied up and captured.

I like to see the monk as having a fit build despite acting and appearing weak, though he does not know what to do with this rocking bod he has. (This drawing was inspired by gidget… I loved their reference for their tang and decided I would make my own concept sheet depicting his scars and body type as well.)

I want to start posting my dynamic stuff on here and actually drawing my Jttw ideas… I just get really perfectionist about them and end up only liking the art after a year goes by and it’s too late to post them….

If you made it here tell me what you think, I’ve spent like 5 minutes writing this and my cat is chirping angrily at me cause she wants me to pet her lolololol so pouty, my cute baby is throwing a fit

Sorry if you think these takes are trash it’s just my headcanons, they might change overtime though

#jttw #journey to the west #tang sanzang #tripitaka #jttw tripitaka #jttw tang sanzang #jttw fanart

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rollercoasterwords · 2 years

Text

hey guys btw there is actually never a good reason to loudly and publicly talk about how much u dislike a fanfic!! Like. let's break this down for a sec:

i don't like it

ok, understandable. i've dnf'd lots of fics because i didn't like them. but the people writing fanfiction are doing it for free and for fun, and you don't know anything about their lives. they could be a young writer just starting out! they could be an older writer getting back into writing after years of being unable to! they could be someone going through a rough patch whose only source of joy right now is writing their silly little stories! talking about how much you dislike a fanfic literally does nothing except hurt the person writing it. that's it. it is not productive, it is not necessary. even strangers on the internet deserve basic human empathy.

ok but i really don't like it

babe, i feel u! i'm a hater too. rant about it privately. shit on it in private messages or group chats with friends. u can dislike something without dragging its creator into the town square to throw tomatoes at them, yknow?

ok but i really don't like it AND it's popular

ok? shouting about that on the internet doesn't make you cool or special or unique. it just makes you kind of mean and, honestly, bitter. like i said before, this is fanfiction. nobody is paying for it. nobody is profiting. there is no standard that these writers are obligated to meet. clearly, other people like the work. why not let them enjoy it in peace?

no u don't understand it doesn't deserve to be popular there are better fics that deserve it more!!!

talk about those fics then!! post about how much u love them!! uplift those writers!! ur tweet or tiktok or tumblr post is not going to suddenly make a popular fic lose all popularity, no matter how undeserving u perceive it to be. if this is actually coming from a place of frustration because you feel like there are other fics that deserve more attention, then just give those fics attention.

no but it's problematic

mmm ok. let's sit with this one for a second. i want you to ask yourself--is it really, really problematic? is it perpetuating harm against a marginalized group? remember, this is fanfic; it is outside the consumer economy, and the stories it tells will almost never make it to a mainstream audience. so is the story actually hurting people, or is the author just exploring something that you're uncomfortable with? because if you're just uncomfortable, then assuming the work is tagged properly, the best course of action is to just click away. as uncomfortable as it may be, people are allowed to write stories that you might find upsetting or gross or weird, and those stories existing is not inherently harmful in and of itself.

it is actively reinforcing harmful stereotypes/rhetoric/etc

okay! ok. if you are deeply concerned because you feel that this fic is genuinely harmful, then go to the writer. leave a comment. send them a message on tumblr or twitter or tiktok or wherever. explain your situation and see what they say! nine times out of ten, i'd bet that an ao3 writer means no harm and would be willing to listen and address your concerns. in fact, they might even be grateful to you for being kind enough to make them aware of a problem and educate them on it. every ao3 writer i've ever spoken to is an incredibly kind and thoughtful person; you don't need to immediately go on the attack

the writer is unreachable/nonresponsive/not willing to address or change the problematic thing

alright. if you truly feel that this fanfiction is actively harmful and can't reach any kind of conclusion with the writer, and you want to warn others who might read the fic, then do that. do that. make a post that says hey guys btw, x thing in this fic is not a good representation/perpetuates a harmful stereotype/whatever the problem is. and leave it at that! you don't need to go further and insult the writing or the person who wrote it. that is helpful to exactly no one, and if your goal is actually to make the world a better place, then you should learn how to draw attention to an issue in a way that encourages actual dialogue instead of dog-piling and personal attacks.

anyway the next time you feel the desire to post about how bad you think a fic is, feel free to use this as a guide before u do! xoxo

#like i genuinely don't understand u guys sometimes #why do i keep seeing posts w hundreds or sometimes even thousands of likes #that are literally saying nothing except #i think this fic is bad and i don't like it #if someone was making cookies and handing them out for free and u didn't like them #would u go stand next to that person and shout about how shitty their baking skills are??#or would u just move tf on!!#bc they are doing something nice for free!!#and if u don't want to eat it u don't have to!!#like if u post abt disliking fics u are literally just mean #im sorry but u are just mean #and not even in a fun way #i love talking shit i love hating on things!!#i do it in PRIVATE #in PRIVATE!!!#where it's fun for me but i know it won't hurt anyone's feelings unnecessarily!!#some of u guys treat fanfiction like a product to consume and it's NOT #it's a gift!#it's a piece of art that someone is giving u!#so for the love of god stop thinking like a fucking little capitalist consumer for a moment and think like a human being w empathy!!#ranting and raving #txt

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 28 days

Text

Here's another long-winded post about me combing through BG3 early access files in search of Aylin and Isobel tidbits - rummaging that already resulted in this post right here. Let me just say I'm pleased to have brought Aylin Silverblood some attention because, again, I think it's a dope name.

Now, obviously, Isobel and Aylin are both Act 2 characters, and early access only covered Act 1. So anything related to them is partial stuff that wasn't scrubbed from the game files for whatever reason, and a lot of placeholders (these are usually indicated by |the text being in vertical lines|). This all means that sometimes (usually!) there are no nice voice lines indexed by UUID and parseable dialogue trees, and you have to trawl through a giant localisation XML of every bit of text in the game instead. An additional complication is all these stories were in flux, but older bits of writing from deprecated iterations didn't get immediately removed from the files, so it's sometimes hard to tell what belongs to which version.

The biggest luck I've had with regards to these two is the 24/11/2021 version of the game - EA Patch #6 Hotfix #19, aka game version v. 4.1.1.1356845, aka the source of Aylin Silverblood (my beloved). Here's a handy list of the patch and hotfix history, if you're like me and interested in this stuff. I'm actually wrangling files from 5 versions of the game right now, ranging from March 2021 to July 2022 - it's been a fun time. This old datamining post on reddit really helped narrow down the timeframe for me to look into.

Why am I doing this? I genuinely find it fun and interesting! There's some neat writing to be found! I crave more Isobel at all times! And I'm always into WIP and "how the sausage is made" type stuff. Also, tons of cool inspo for fics and headcanons.

Note, because I know that's a popular EA tidbit: this is all from after the Halsin killing Isobel variant was scrapped. This is, in fact, the version where she gets killed and soul trapped by Balthazar, and Aylin gets framed for it.

I'm going to start this off with my favourite part, and that is snippets of an early version of the Aylin/Isobel reunion from 2021. I've done my best to put them in order, but be aware a lot of this is still me speculating.

|[CINE: Nightsong teleports the party to the plaza in front of Last Light. As she looks around trying to familiarize herself, Isobel notices your arrival from the balcony. Her reaction is pure shock, followed by an immediate rush down the stairs.]|

|[CINE: Isobel dashes out of the front of the inn, wide-eyed and out of breath. Nightsong stares at her, stunned.]|

Aylin: |(distant, shocked) Isobel.|

Isobel: |Aylin...|

|[CINE: Nightsong takes an instinctive step towards her but stumbles, collapsing to her knees, eyes blown with pain and disbelief. Isobel closes the distance between them in hasty steps, trying to help Nightsong up, but Nightsong tightly grips at her arms - as if the contact makes everything real.]|

|[CINE: Isobel's eyes fill with tears as she drops down to the ground, throwing her arms around Nightsong's shoulders in a tight embrace. Shaking, almost fearful, Nightsong returns the embrace - the first kind touch she's had in a hundred years.]|

|[CINE: Nightsong draws back from the hug, looking Isobel in the eyes. Isobel helps Nightsong to her feet. As the two of them stand, they keep their hands linked.]|

Aylin: |A hundred years. Isobel, light of my heart, where were you? (choking up) I found your body, I....|

Isobel: |I was dead, Aylin. For so long. It was Balthazar - he trapped my soul, he-|

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowRelationship] You were lovers? Did Ketheric know?|

Aylin: |(jaw tightens) We were lovers. Her father was against it. He saw nothing but future misery. I'm immortal. I would never age, but she would.|

Isobel: |He didn't understand. It doesn't matter when... (fearful, as if worried Aylin's feelings might have changed) ... I still love you so much.|

Aylin: |(her first genuine smile) And I, you. No trial or pain could ever change that. (relaxes a touch) It is why I couldn't leave your body, even when they came. Balthazar and that Sharran witch told your father that I was to blame.|

|And he believed them over you?|

Aylin: |(frowns) He believed what he wanted to believe. Ketheric saw his daughter dead, and he saw someone he wanted to hurt. Shar took that cruel thread, that moment of mortal pain, and used it to corrupt him to the core.|

Aylin: |I was put on trial, and I had no defence. The moment it was over, I was taken down to the temple and... well, you saw what they had done.|

|Isobel presses against Nightsong's side, face tight with worry, running her fingers in slow strokes up and down Nightsong's arm.|

|[CINE: Nightsong tilts her head back towards the player.]|

Aylin: |These heroes saved me. Without them, I'd still be trapped in Balthazar's soul cage, with Ketheric gripping my heart like a leech.|

|[CINE: Isobel's face falls at the mention of her father's name.]|

Isobel: |A *soul cage*? Gods.|

Isobel: |I didn't know. Gods, he didn't say a word to me. I ran away because it was Balthazar that brought me back. As I ran, I heard my father shouting... but I'd seen enough. There was no saving him.|

Aylin: |You are not your father, Isobel. (sad, wry smile) You were the only thing that kept me alive in the dark. When hope began to fade, I simply thought of you.|

Isobel: |[To player] Thank you. (smiles wide) I... I can't possibly thank you enough, for bringing Aylin back to me.|

|Nightsong smiles too, but she's lost looking at Isobel, completely tuning out everyone else around them. Isobel leans in, resting her brow against Nightsong's and closing her eyes, Nightsong's hand clutched to her chest.|

Then, there is an option to press Isobel for details:

|You said the necromancer trapped your soul. Why?| |Was Balthazar the one who killed you, Isobel?|

Isobel: |(hesitant, visibly guilty) I think Aylin would know better than I do. The last thing I remember is a blade in the dark. Too fast to feel pain. Then silence.|

Asking Isobel to go with you to Moonrise was possible at various points, leading to different responses:

Will you come with me to Moonrise? I could use your help. If we're going to stop Ketheric, you have to come with me.

Until there is a way to keep Last Light safe, I cannot leave. All I can do is pray. |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. I'll do everything I can to help you from here, but I won't go with you.| |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. If someone else could take my place, I would go with you. I swear it.|

|Nightsong is here, she will protect Last Light - let's go to Moonrise, like you promised.| |I want to spend the night with Aylin. Meet me at Moonrise tomorrow.| |Nightsong will protect the people while together we can stop Ketheric.|

Isobel: I... we need to get close to him, don't we? And Aylin can protect Last Light in my absence. Aylin: Isobel, I have just gotten you back. To put yourself in his hands again-

Looks like we would've had a flip of the current Act 2 boss fight, and Isobel would be the ally for the confrontation with Ketheric, not Aylin. Also, that one line right there that is our first indication of Succor™, gotta love it. Sadly, post-reunion I only have:

|TBD: Post Nightsong Reunion.| |How are you and Aylin doing?|

To borrow release version Isobel's stock line: KEEPING VERY WELL, I HOPE? In any case, I'm putting the rest under a cut, featuring options for calling Isobel out on her parentage, Aylin being from Mt. Celestia, and Balthazar being gross - among many other things.

At one point quite early on, Isobel's protection from the shadow curse wasn't a spell, but an ointment:

|Ointment of Selûne| |Ointment Container PLACEHOLDER| |Isobel filled this with precious doses of her sacred Ointment of Selûne.| |First get the ointment from Isobel.| Have you received Isobel's ointment yet? What protection can her ointment offer, exactly? You should see Isobel. If Marcus does crop up, I'd sooner you had her ointment to protect you. Can use that cleric's ointment to get you on your way. But I have to move out - now. Can I get some of your ointment? No more theories! It's time for action. Our secret weapon needs to travel to Moonrise Towers, which means they'll need your ointment. You have the ointment. You have the Gate Stone. Moonrise Towers awaits. Are you sure the ointment will last long enough?

What is now Isobel's Ominous Cough was a gradual weakening that was remarked upon and seemed to be there to create more of a sense of urgency:

I won't claim to know Isobel's craft, but Selûne's light is bright in her. Isobel's tough - though she was tougher at the start. I've rarely seen a cleric so in tune with her goddess, but the curse is taking its toll. The light used to be stronger, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take? You look paler than death, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take?

We have some nice concise infodumps on Ketheric:

After Ketheric turned to darkness, the Enclave joined with the Harpers to unseat him and his Sharran cohorts. We marched together, fought together, bled together... and in the end we prevailed.

Only it wasn't the end. Nothing seemed to kill Ketheric himself, so the Harpers decided to seal him in his own tomb, alive. They thought that would be enough. But they hadn't counted on Ketheric unleashing the shadow curse. We watched it drain all light and life away from this place, saw it twist people into abominations. The Harpers lost hope.

Ketheric wove the curse on this land. The moment he was sealed in that tomb, Shar's poison devoured everything in its path.

Fallen paladin. Champion of Shar. He was building an army bent on unholy conquest, but we stopped him. Killed him. Buried him.

It was not enough. General Thorm lives again. He's built a new army, and this time he marches under the banner of the Absolute.

November 2021 is the earliest mention of Aylin I found, mostly marked as not finalised and placeholder dialogue (and that reunion up there). The Nightsong as present in that patch is still very different from what we ended up getting - nobody was killing her, in fact people were coming to get her "kiss", and there was a whole thing where it seems like Shar would directly take control of her and you could help her overcome the curse, or abandon her to it - or kill her.

Embrace the Nightsong and be sworn to Eternal Shadow.

Anyway, here are her lines (all of these exist as voice files, which is rare for stuff I put in this post - but they're done by a voice actress who doesn't sound like Helen Keeley, our final Aylin VA, so I don't know what to make of it all tbh):

Shar is the Nightsinger, and I am her Nightsong. I am her instrument, transforming the faithful into shadows. I've been here for centuries. Do you know how many priests of Shar came here, full of faith, seeking my kiss? I've been here for centuries. Thousands of Sharrans came here seeking my kiss. I drink their sorrow, their loss, their grief. Then I vomit it back into the world. All of them are shadows now. That is Shar's only reward. But Ketheric returned for my kiss, over and over. You're the first to survive my kiss intact. You're the only one who can help me. Please, you have to help. No one's ever resisted the kiss before. No one has ever resisted my kiss. But you are not merely *one*, are you? That thing in your head must be incredibly powerful to resist a goddess. Perhaps it's also divine in nature. Because a mind can't survive two masters. It breaks us. Shar's attention must be elsewhere. Speak quickly. She's watching now. She's waiting to steal my voice. But it won't last. Please - listen! I was captured by Ketheric Thorm, Shar's chosen. He turned me into this creature. I'm a slave of Shar. She owns me, just like that thing in your head owns you. I want to sing my own song. Not Shar's. Not *Ketheric's*. Find Ketheric. Kill him so I can be free! Slay Ketheric. His wretched existence binds me to this temple. Oh. That made her angry. The Lady returns! She has me again! *Again!* Stop! You've driven her away!

I am not your *spectacle*. Turn away before I strike you blind. Tell them to come and receive my kiss.

Some possible relevant tags, interactions, and outcomes include:

|The soul cage has greatly weakened Nightsong| |Debug: click to save Nightsong (sets the flag to talk to Isobel)| |We sided with Ketheric and doomed Nightsong.| |Companion comment!||But if his power is linked to this Nightsong, there must be a way to unlink it.| |You have taken control of Ketheric's Soul Cage| |You are bound to Ketheric's soul cage, taking his regenerative powers for yourself| |Bound to Soul Cage| |Soul Cage Key| |Soul Cage Research| |The book details the necromancer's research on the soul cage| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost, as she takes her Father with her to the afterlife.| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost terrified and in agony. Both Isobel and Ketheric will disappear.|

At one point Isobel delivers her own, Ketheric's, and Aylin's backstory as "a story", but sadly I can find very little of it, just disjointed fragments:

You seem to know a lot about Ketheric. He was a devout Selûnite who converted to Shar. They say it was Ketheric's purity that drew an angel down from Celestia. You're Isobel Thorm. The daughter who died in that story.

And there seem to be many options to question Isobel about her hiding the truth about her father:

Why are you lying to me, Isobel? Everyone thinks you're dead, Isobel. Tell me the truth, Isobel. Everything. Still, Isobel might have saved us some time had she been honest from the beginning. |Why didn't you tell me what happened from the start, Isobel?|

Ketheric. Don't you mean your father? Ketheric is your father. I know the truth. Ketheric told me at Moonrise. He wants me to bring you home. I need your father to trust me. He wants you back. You sent me after your father - Ketheric. I think we should discuss Ketheric - your father - first. For all you've said about Ketheric, you left out the part where he's your father.

To which I've found some responses:

And would you have trusted her? Ketheric's daughter? Why didn't I tell you that I was murdered, that my soul was locked away for a hundred years? What would I have told her? That my father murdered her fellow Harpers, but that I can surely be trusted?

[Attempt to read Isobel's thoughts.] *You see Ketheric standing before Isobel, although the memory is hazy. His words are unclear, but his tone is not - he is pleading with her.*

Brought back by the same man that killed me. Balthazar. Standing next to my father with a smile on his face.

But I'm not sure it would have mattered. To stand with that man, my father has surrendered to deepest evil.

I would love to know what the whole pleading thing is about, and what Isobel "didn't know" that she claims didn't matter anyway.

My father. After a century, he somehow brought me back. But I saw the monster he had become. I couldn't bear it... I ran. I ran until I found Last Light. It was like a second home to me, once. I've been studying the curse ever since, searching for answers. Trying to restore the damage my father has wrought upon this land. It's possible I may have to sacrifice myself. But this is my father's crime.

And then, there is this nugget I cannot place but that I like:

|Your father's due will come.|

There is also an option to tell her Nightsong is Aylin (who was, at this point, a full celestial - no mention of being connected to Selûne, though, and in fact, if she was indeed from Mount Celestia as mentioned in the "story", she would not have been):

Isobel: My father's curse still blackens this earth. Have you found anything? Player: A celestial, chained to Ketheric's soul. Player: They called her Nightsong, but she told me her name was Aylin. Isobel: Aylin. She... she's alive. I knew she had to be, I… Player: Ketheric's necromancer took her to Moonrise. Isobel: His necromancer? Gods, you have to free her. Isobel: You have to go to Moonrise and free Aylin. When Ketheric is weak, this can all be over. Isobel: The truth is that I would give anything to see her again, and anything to stop my father. Free her, and you do both. Isobel: At least, the shell of my father. There's nothing left of the man that championed Selûne. Isobel: Find her. Free her. If Ketheric isn't stopped, all of us are doomed.

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowName] Aylin? Care to explain?| Isobel: The angel in my story about Ketheric. That was Aylin.

Speaking of Balthazar. Some lines from him:

[Introductory note: please imagine everything Balthazar says spoken with a wheezy voice, as if he's permanently out of breath.]

[I need to retrieve the Nightsong, but the temple is haunted and my minions cannot make it past the trial grounds. I cannot go there until the ghosts have been dealt with. Now that you are here on behalf of Ketheric, you will do all this for me.]

I, Fodder, am here on behalf of General Ketheric Thorm. Down in the depths of this temple writhes his desire. I am to bring it to him.

I created the Nightsong for General Ketheric, many moons... HEAR THAT SHAR? Many moons ago.

*As you hold the necromancer's mocking gaze, you can tell how it starts to dawn on him you are not the mere minion he thought you were.*

Along the way I found some more recent Patch 8 (2022-ish) gross Balthazar lines, some bits of which have actually survived to release:

She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

Such fine clay she was. We grew quite close as I… remoulded her. Now she is General Thorm's shield. Her strength is his to drink upon. His pains are hers to bear.

If I never exceed her, I will still die happy. If I ever do something as gauche as truly dying, that is.

Utterly revolting! Makes my skin crawl! Man deserves a yeeting into the Shadowfell a hundred times over! But in order to not end on a gross note, I leave you with:

Ketheric Thorm. Murderer. Oathbreaker.

Aylin Silverblood. My true name. Nightsong was only ever a curse.

#isobel thorm #dame aylin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #aylin x isobel #balthazar #datamine #early access #long post #i have more of this stuff actually but this post is already way too long #so stay tuned i guess

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cryptids-and-muses · 6 months

Text

Post canon homestuck crew play Dungeons and Dragons

Karkat and terezi

Co dms

Unstoppable when actually working together

Terezi will get sidetracked messing with karkat

Karkat trying to write a deep and well fleshed out campaign that’s thematically resonant vs terezi’s desire for chaos and traps and trying to “trick” her players FIGHT

Terezi believes in karma and will make the world bend to this

Karkat is trying to set up romance arcs and argues about how it adds to the theming

Dave draws them fanart of their characters. Terezi loves it while karkat argues about accuracy before admitting yes he also appreciates it

Calliope also does fanart and karkat praises her skill and accuracy unlike some people

John

Arcane trickster rogue

Forest gnome

Just a goofy little guy!

Mostly just playing to have fun, starts off with a fun but simple character who develops over time

Ends up SUPER invested and taking this so so seriously

Karkat worked a dramatic reveal into the, in his words, “bare ass bones two paragraphs that a fucking wiggler could have written backstory” and John did not see it coming and loved it

Goes head to head with terezi a lot on her various traps she designs for them. She is getting more and more absurd with it. Karkat had to talk to her about breaking the world building with things she’s introducing. He is the only rogue. Send help.

Rose

Drow warlock

Tries to justify picking drow as anything other than she just thought it was cool

Nearly went old ones for patron but settled on archfey for story reasons

Has a 10 page lore document detailing her tragic past and her toxic relationship with her patron

It became 15 pages after going back and forth with karkat for a bit and adding even more

Only her and one other person are taking the romance arcs seriously and they become karkat’s favorite players

Tries playing morally ambiguous but terezi can be annoying about that and claims it’s just “the consequences of her actions”

Her and karkat both get very very into the scenes between her and her patron, the drama! The acting! Dave is uncomfortable and karkat brushes it off, it’s not like him role playing as his sister’s abusive girlfriend is weird. It’s in fact very important to the plot Dave

Has written fanfic of the campaign

Jade

Dragonborn barbarian

Path of the beast

Don’t ask me I just know

Her GLEE when she says “I’m gonna rage :D”

ANIMAL COMPANION! She nearly went ranger just for that but knew she wouldn’t have as much fun. Found a way to get one anyway.

It was harder naming her animal companion than her character

Having fun and likes the problem solving side of things, but likes breaking things with her massive strength just as much

Terezi likes to throw stuff at her, both traps and encounters, and finds it funny if she can just wreck her way through

“See John that’s how you deal with a pressure plate trap”

Takes the rp side of things very seriously

Once argued with Karkat over if her favorite npc would do that and cursed him out

Has read roses fanfic of the campaign

Dave

Plays a teifling with grey skin and orange horns

“What are you talking about karkat this is just my dude, don’t you like him?”

Hellus Jeffus

He’s a valor bard, eventually multiclasses paladin

Starts out just trying to mess with people but like John starts getting into it, though he tries to down play it

Have hellus more of himself than he realized and it’s making him face things about himself

Eventually hellus self sacrifices to save the party in this deeply intense moment. There were tears, Dave was wrecked, they went on a whole quest to revive him. It was touching and karkat is smug

Dave might have worked through some things

Jane

Halfling cleric

Her and John are small buddies!!!

Started out life but wasn’t having a lot of fun with it so with terezi’s permission switched to war or tempest with later s few levels in fighter

Her John and Jade are the biggest front liners, John’s character ends up really close with both of them as it’s easier for the rogue to bond with the person giving them sneak attack

Jade and jane’s character have an in game arm wrestling match

Took a bit to get into the rp side of things but eventually got the hang of it

Roxy

Tabaxi, easily, it’s so obvious

After much deliberation settles on glamour bard (though wizard and rogue were tempting for the joke, she wanted to branch out)

So many horny bard jokes but very little actual follow through, karkat gets frustrated by this as she’s all this talk but isn’t pursuing any of the romance options he’s giving her

She has SECRETS! She is HIDING THINGS!! Her cheery persona is a FASADE!!!

Cue complaining to karkat about how hard it is to wait to tell the others about her secrets and him threatening violence if she tells anyone before the in game reveal

She tells jake

Lots of egging on Dave and helping him with his fucking around

The BOND between her and Dave!!! They are the duo to end all duos. Team rocket type shit. There is nothing stronger than the bond between the bards of the party. My theory is it has to do with trading bardic inspiration.

Dirk

Half elf Druid circle of spores

Wildfire seemed fun to him but wasn’t as good

Wasn’t originally planning on being a Druid but after going over all the classes he liked all the customization and decisions that go into Druid like prepared spells and such

Didn’t really think about his backstory much, just improved something. He keeps improving new additions and it’s getting more and more elaborate and complicated. He has multiple hidden and long lost siblings by this point. Still doesn’t write any of this down. If he messes a detail up he justified it with more improv.

Yes his character has spiked up red hair and sunglasses. Don’t question how the Druid got sunglasses karkat.

Really likes the tactics side of things, he’s even pitched a few things to terezi she updated and later worked in

Sometimes works on plans and strategies out of game or making a million back up characters that play off the others in interesting mechanical ways

Is considering becoming a dm some time

Jake

Needed some help making his character, he just didn’t know where to start

Eventually after much discussion settles on a teifling bladesong wizard

Wanting to get away from his usual adventurer style Roxy helped with the backstory and they came up with this evil scientist raised in a cult who’s good hearted but was never taught right and wrong

He gets very into playing him and his moral struggle but can lean a little too good for his backstory, karkat points this out and Jake swears to get better at it

Dave pitched a lot of names for them and it was eventually settled on “Bernard Gunn” even though he has a sword. Jake just likes how it sounds

“Why is he blue jake?” “…..uhhh” “why is he blue?”

Calliope

SHE LOVES THIS SO MUCH

Teifling Druid with a focus on healing

Circle of shepards

Not a troll color pallet like Dave though, honestly it might get a bit trickster

Beautiful backstory that she coordinated with one of the others to make joint. The most obvious choice is Roxy but I think it was actually jade, Jane or John.

She gets so into it you guys, like so into it

Gives at least one dramatic speech completely on the fly

The other character who takes karkat’s romance arcs seriously and his other favorite player

Has also argued with terezi about world building and consistency. This may put her above rose in karkat’s eyes

Was also allowed to read rose’s fanfiction and offered full on reviews

Also considering going into doing but for the opposite reasons to Dirk

Vriska

Fairy artillerist artificer with a dip in war magic wizard

Min maxxed to hell and back

(Technically there was a better race, but fairy has its own advantages and she couldn’t resist)

An elaborate backstory too with some secrets of her own, I’m thinking full on lost princess

Yes she is That Player, you know the one

Has nearly been kicked multiple times and now won’t leave on principle

Not the best at sticking with the party and not just doing whatever she wants, but suprisingly Dirk has been able to talk her into it with his talk of tactics and playing smart

Second most effective is John who just looks at her like “vriska you’re not making this very fun :(“

Kanaya

Fire genasi ranger

Really tried to get into it but this just isn’t her thing so eventually decided to leave the group

Karkat came up with a fun story reason for her to leave and eventually brought her character back as an Npc

Did help rose make a cosplay of her character, after which John, Calliope, and Roxy wanted to make ones too

Vriska eventually tried to “manipulate” into helping her make one for her character

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moony-2001 · 6 months

Text

How I would’ve constructed the 10 year time skip

✨Brought to you by my deep loathing for Lore Olympus✨

•warnings: super long post (I’m not joking), death, kidnapping, violence•

What The Fuck Happened

There was so much potential for the punishment arc. We could’ve seen a lot of character development, fleshed out storylines, reconciliation between certain people. We could’ve seen both Hades and Persephone going to therapy instead of claiming that one therapy session has fixed all their problems and then never going again.

Instead we got horny Persephone, pretty much no clue about what happened to Demeter OR Persephone during that time, and an easy plot device (sorry Cerberus) for Persephone to be like “I’m a big girl now harrumph harrumph, time for me to go reunite with my crusty ass bf who I’ve only know for a month”.

I hate the way she reunited with Ares. Ares is just a bonafide creep throughout the whole comic (although I liked when he attacked Zeus lol). I guess what I mostly hate about Ares and Persephone’s interaction is, yet again, it’s another example of every guy in the comic going AWOOGA over Persephone. Also Athena’s design is so fugly. I guess Rachel is completely incapable of drawing masculine presenting women as actual women.

The whole Kronos plot line is stupid. I hate it so much. Imo the whole “the titans are trying to escape so they can rule Olympus again” is overdone and not particularly done well. The fight between Kronos and Persephone is lame as shit. Like what, she gets big for all of 20 minutes, burps out a bunch of bees (which aren’t even aggressive creatures), and then does her version of the Wuxi Finger Hold from Kung Fu Panda and has Tartarus spirit Kronos away, magically fixing all of their problems (except it doesn’t and nothing is actually fixed).

Also I might get a lot of flack for this, but I don’t think the addition of Morpheus’ character was necessary. I like Morpheus. I think she’s cute. But she’s a) slowly turning into another version of Hecate and b) not really vital to the narrative imo. We already have so many other characters and plot lines that take away from the central “romance” the story is SUPPOSED to be focused on. I just don’t think we need ANOTHER character whose arc is probably not going to go anywhere.

So yeah, overall very L writing, L plot, and L characters.

What I would do differently

The first thing I would change is that the whole punishment arc would be an entire season unto itself. You’ll see why it has to be a separate season.

The second thing is (and this literally pains me to say) in order for me to rewrite this portion of LO without rewriting the entire comic, I kinda sorta have to throw the entire timeline of Greece out the window. If I try to follow a timeline based on the history of Greece, the entire timeline of LO has to shift massively. I’m already getting a migraine trying to think about how I could possibly make it work.

I do know this: Instead of 10 years I’d do somewhere between 1,000-3,000 years. 10 years is a joke. When you’re a god, 10 years is a trip to the time out corner

For now, let’s just say (assuming LO takes place in the Ancient Greece era) and Ancient Greece spanned ~1500 years, Persephone’s punishment would’ve needed to have been established near the very end of the collapse of the Late Bronze Age, spanned the entirety of Ancient Greece as we know it today, and ended some time in the very early Byzantine era. So like what, 1500-2000 years? Fine. I can work with this.

The Famine

You know how the first 400 years of Ancient Greece was deemed the “Dark Ages” and it was a time of war, famine, and loss? I want to start the punishment there. It would make sense for what we know about the characters thus far:

Demeter has had complete control over the growth of the flora and fauna on earth. She’s the goddess of the harvest after all. But we also find out that while Persephone has been in Olympus, Demeter has also been carrying out her duties as the goddess of spring. Plus Demeter has been around for forever and a day. She knows what she’s doing

Persephone doesn’t (at this point in the comic) really have control over her powers. Even in her fits of rage, she ends up doing more harm than good (i.e. her act of wrath, turning Minthe into a plant, etc.). In comparison with everyone around her, she is a literal infant. I mean shit, she’s only been alive for 20 years compared to the fact that everyone else has most likely been around for a minimum of 500 years.

If Demeter is stripped of her status as a goddess (and thus her powers) it would make sense that there would be a lot of death and famine and war over territory/food. Persephone would be left with nothing: no guidebook, no how-to. Of course a lot of people would die while she’s trying to figure her shit out. It could also be a very interesting tactic for psychological warfare on Zeus’ part. Zeus KNOWS Persephone doesn’t know what she’s doing. He knows people will die. And he knows that since life is precious to Persephone (or at least that’s what she claims), it would punish her further.

We can see episodes of Persephone struggling to provide for humanity. We could have real world examples of the affect of famine and depopulation. We would see her struggling with her powers, her mental health. We could get an episode that explains how her hands got destroyed from trying to mimic her mother’s powers. We can see what the fuck happened to Demeter in Attica.

Now obviously things will eventually go on the up and up for Persephone and her compatriots. The whole 1500-2000 years isn’t just going to be one big clusterfuck. As time progresses and chapters pass, we could see real character growth for Persephone not just mentally, but in almost every aspect. Since she will have been alive at that point for over 1000 years, the readers would be able to see her newfound maturity. We could also see her build strong female support systems and strengthen her friendships, something we NEVER saw in the OG comic (or at least they never happened without Hades somehow being involved). You get the point.

What’s Old Man Hades up to?

I have big plans for Hades and none of them involve him going into a 1000+ year coma or getting possessed by his creepy-ass dad. He is an asshole though. I kinda wanted to portray him in this the way he is in the original myths (which for those who don’t know or haven’t read it, it’s not good).

So in Greek mythology, Hades actually had a wife before he even met Persephone or Minthe. Can you take a wild guess as to who?

Bingo! It’s Leuce. Contrary to popular belief, Leuce is actually NOT a home-wrecking POC version of Persephone (don’t @ me we all know the nymphs represent the lower class and POC). In mythology, Leuce was Hades’ first wife/lover and she died sometime long ago and I believe was turned into a white poplar tree. No she is not a cousin of Thetis and Amphitrite. She is not even remotely related to them. And Thetis and Amphitrite are sisters, not cousins. Do your fucking research Rachel.

Unfortunately, Greek Mythology doesn’t really mention all that much about Leuce outside of the fact that she was a daughter of Oceanus, she was kidnapped by Hades, and when she died (for unspecified reasons) she turned into a tree. Which means I’m going to be taking a lot of creative liberties for this portion of the post. Sorry to all you diehard fans of Greek myths out there. I shall try to do her justice.

In my head-cannon Hades and Leuce had been in an arranged marriage for thousands of years. Leuce was offered by Oceanus as a peace offering after the War and Hades, not really having any other viable options for a wife, agreed to take her to the underworld (much to her dismay). Over time, they grew to have a mutually loving/caring relationship. Unlike LO Persephone, Leuce was a good queen and she worked hard to make sure the denizens of the underworld respected her and that they were well cared for. Unfortunately, they got divorced because Hades starting having an affair with Minthe. Even though she loved her kingdom and the people of the underworld, she divorced Hades because she couldn’t stand to be around him, which, y’know. Fair.

A few notes: in my head-cannon, Leuce is still around leading up the the trial and punishment. Her portrait would still be up, we would see signs that Hades and Leuce still interact (more in terms of business, not romance), etc.

Also, unlike Persephone, Leuce would not take her anger out on Minthe or turn her into a plant or destroy her apartment. She would simply wish her good luck. She would be mad at Hades for cheating and for taking advantage of Minthe while she’s at her lowest. But I’m going to be straight up: even though Leuce is meant to be the better Persephone, she still has her flaws. She’s not going to feel inclined to help Minthe in any way. Would you want to help out the person who your partner is cheating on you with? The answer is no and if you say yes, you’re lying.

Anyways, during the Punishment, Hades and Leuce reconnect and Hades finds out Leuce is dying. He tries to convince her to leave the underworld and return to her father, but she insists that she is going to stay, even if it means she dies away from everyone she loved. She won’t abandon her kingdom, her people, or her ex-husband (although that’s much better than he deserves). They move in together and Hades begins to take care of her, even as she begins to deteriorate. They also begin to rekindle their past relationship and (with the help of a therapist) work through some of their past problems together.

Note: their relationship rekindles a couple hundred years into the punishment so by the time the punishment ends, they’ve been back together for a minimum of 1200 years

The aftermath and the Rape of Persephone

Before any of you go gaga over me for the title used above, the original title used for the myth is The Rape of Persephone (or if you want to be really original, The Rape of Proserpina). In the context of the title, the term “rape” means to be taken/kidnapped rather than having sexual violence inflicted upon you. Rape stemmed from the traditional Latin word “raptus” which means “to be seized” or “carried off”. Okay? Okay.

So after the Punishment ends and Persephone feels like she has thoroughly improved herself, she goes to find Hades and talk with him about their relationship. Mainly that she feels they rushed into it, and even though she does like him she wants to take things really slow (kind of like how she wanted before getting married 3 episodes later).

Upon arriving to the underworld/Hades house, her worst fears are realized: not only has Hades (seemingly) moved on, he has found someone else. Or rather, he got back together with his ex-wife.

Persephone freaks out (“who is she?”/“I’m his wife!”)

Persephone, throughly upset for getting her hopes up, flees back to mortal realm. Hades goes to leave Leuce, but not before she tells him that if he leaves her for Persephone, she will never forgive him. Hades leaves anyways, much to the absolute despair of Leuce, who is left wailing as he runs off.

Persephone returns home and finds Demeter and they hug. Demeter is initially horrified to see what happened to her hands, but is proud of the work she did during the punishment. Persephone cries to her mother about Hades, and Demeter tries to comfort her but it inadvertently comes off more as “I told you so” rather than “I’m sorry you had to experience that” (although Demeter is sorry that Persephone’s heart is broken). Persephone, already feeling incredibly emotionally distressed, lashes out at Demeter and they start to argue. This is when Hades arrives.

Hades sees Demeter and Persephone arguing and inserts himself into the situation. Persephone becomes more upset after seeing him and Hades (assuming that Persephone is upset about the fact that Demeter is getting in the way of their “relationship” and not the fact that Persephone discovered Hades went back to his ex-wife after saying he loved her) whips out the the “one personal question, no exceptions” card and proposes to Persephone. He insists that he loves her and only her and that they should spend the rest of their immortal lives together.

Persephone says no.

Hades, not taking no for an answer and not wanting to leave the mortal realm empty handed, kidnaps Persephone, much to the dismay of Demeter, Artemis, and the nymphs. Hades returns with a traumatized Persephone to the underworld to find that Leuce has died and turned into a white poplar tree. While Persephone is sobbing on the floor, Hades weaves a mock crown from the branches and leaves of the tree, places it upon Persephone’s head, and tells her she better get used to their life together.

Thus ends the season and the punishment arc.

Afterthoughts

Thank you for sitting through my ramblings. I officially joined the anti-LO community about the time the trial happened and had been wanting to make a post like this for a reaaaaally long time. Besides the fact that the trial in of itself was completely unethical (@genericpuff made a whole post about that) the punishment arc just really pissed me off. Like go girl, give us nothing!

Anyways, I may or may not do a whole timeline reconstruction of LO depending on how much I feel like offing my sanity with the amount of research that would have to go into that. Until then, I hope you like this post and look out for other anti LO posts coming your way :)

#lore olympus #anti lo persephone #anti lore olympus #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #kung fu panda #anti lo #lo criticism #lo critical #long read #lore olympus criticism #lo critic

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peterman-spideyparker · 2 years

Text

Mr. Russo (Billy Russo x Secretary!Reader)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this fic and other Billy Russo stories in my drafts for ages, and I figured while I was working on other Daredevil and Moon Knight fics, I’d throw in some of these older ones that I’ve never posted. I think the original intention was for this to be longer and a multi-part series, but I don’t like that idea anymore. I cut about a thousand words, and I might include those as a bonus separate part--I’m not sure yet. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Working for Billy Russo wasn’t a challenge like most people would expect. You know how to do your job and how to do it well. One late night of working allows something about your past come to the surface, changing the trajectory of the relationship you share with your boss.

Warnings: Fluff, Billy softening up, angst (mentions of crappy experience in New York and the foster care system/Billy Russo being brooding and sad/hurt and rage/delicious tension), implied smut, cursing, mentions of addiction (drugs/alcohol)

Other Characters: Frank Castle

Word Count: 5,495

Another day in the books. Although everyday at Anvil is never the same, it can get a little monotonous. You answer the phone, respond to emails, draw up contacts, and do whatever Mr. Russo needs.

Oh, Mr. William Russo.

Intelligent, suave, cultured, and the definition of sex on two legs.

He works so hard in his business, and he cares about what he does. Anything that you can do to make his day less stressful, you’ll do it, and that definitely came in handy today, even if it still is a late night for him. You catch a glimpse at the clock on your screen—7:14pm. With a tired sigh, you hear him shuffle some papers around and push his chair out, moving a short distance to slide on his coat. You hear the click of his Italian leather shoes move closer to where you sit, and you smell his expensive cologne in the gentle breeze he brings by. You watch him as he walks with a purpose when he stops in his tracks, turning around to address you. “Do you ever even go home?” he asks.

“Sir?” you ask, unsure where he’s going with this.

“You’re always here before I get here—no matter how early—and you always stay after me. I just don’t get it.”

“I do my job,” you tell him. “It’s that simple. I do it, and I make sure that I do it well.”

“You also deserve a break—a life. Don’t you have friends around to go out for a drink or anything?”

“No, actually,” you admit. “Last friend I made in New York was one from when I got here. She then took 180 dollars from my wallet and ran away, making me scrape by for food for the rest of that week. My family isn’t nearby, either, if that was your next question. Work—this—is all I have, really.” Oh God, do you sound pathetic.

“Where is your family?” Mr. Russo asks, slowly moving back to your desk.

You scrunch up your bottom lip in a frown and shake your head. “I don’t know. I grew up in the system. I’m assuming whoever my parents are, they live in the Boston area, since that’s were I grew up.”

His expression softens to something to one that you have only seen twice before. It’s not quite pity, but it’s deeper than sadness. “You grew up in the system?” he asks softly.

You give a small nod. “It changes you pretty quickly.”

“It does.” His lips part like he wants to say something more, but he presses them in a tight line and sticks his hand in his jacket pocket, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions.

“Is there anything I can do for you before you leave, Mr. Russo?”

He blinks a few times before he shakes his head. “N-No,” Billy breathes. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, sir.”

There’s flowers on your desk when you walk in the next morning. How are there flowers on your desk?

“Hello?” you call into the office, sliding pepper spray out of your purse. “Anyone here?” Dead silence. Nothing looks out of place except for the bouquet, and after a quick sweep of the office, you see that you are alone. You look through the flowers and don’t see any card. Logging into your computer, you quickly pull up surveillance to see who delivered these. Your jaw drops when you see Mr. William Russo himself walk in at four in the morning with the same giant vase of flowers to your right. You lean back in your chair, your brain not really comprehending what you just saw. After a few minutes, you move towards the beautiful assortment of white gardenias, yellow lilies, red tulips, and magenta lilacs. You stick your nose to the flowers and take in a perfume of scents that make your chest happy and bring a smile to your face, and that smile remains on your face as you get to work and organize Billy’s day.

“Mornin’,” Billy says with a nod, walking a few hours later, not acknowledging the assortment on your desk.

“Morning,” you respond as he moves closer. “Thank you,” you say just before he enters his office. You don’t need to turn around to know exactly where he is—about a stride and a half from being in the doorway to his office, his right foot mid-step. “They’re beautiful.”

He doesn’t respond, but he takes a minute before he continues his gait into his office.

The rest of the day proceeds as it normally does: you respond to client emails, answer the phones, do other office work, and hand Billy files, briefing him before his meetings.

“Have a nice night, (Y/N),” he says, adjusting his scarf on his peacoat as he walks past your desk.

“You too, sir,” you say. “And remember you have a 7:30 meeting tomorrow morning at the Four Seasons with Thaddeus Ross to discuss security for the SHIELD weapons conference.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he says, turning to look at you, flashing you the faintest of smiles. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, considering you built this company from the ground up, I think you’d manage.” His smile grows a hair bigger. “Safe travels, Mr. Russo.”

The next few weeks proceed as they usually do, but you are dumbfounded yet again when you walk in Monday, about a month after you found the flowers on your desk.

“Morning,” Billy says, placing a coffee cup on your desk as he walks by. “Sweet cream cold brew, right?”

You turn in your chair and look at him, confusion and surprise written all over your face.

“Yeah,” you say. You notice he has a hot cup for himself in his hands. “You hate Starbucks.”

“I needed some extra caffeine this morning,” he shrugs.

“So the ‘shit-water jet fuel’ is what you were craving this morning?”

He nods, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. “Exactly,” he answers after he swallows. You can tell he still hates the brew.

“Well, thank you for thinking of me,” you say. “If you find yourself needing some more caffeine, just let me know and I’ll make a pot.”

His face says I’ll be taking you up on that in five minutes, but his lips say, “Thanks, (Y/N).”

The next morning, there is a bouquet of blush colored peonies, white gardenias, and purple roses on your desk.

“Vultures today, huh?” Billy says as he comes out of his office and to your desk, placing some outgoing mail in your organizer, adjusting some of the flowers in the assortment of roses, chrysanthemums, and asters. “That phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning.”

“It’s the political season,” you hum as you shift your gaze upward. “All the big wigs want the best security money can buy. You’ve made it clear that you and your people are the ones for that job.”

“You know how to flatter a man,” he chuckles, shaking some nuts you’re snacking on in his hand before plopping them in his mouth.

“While you’re here,” you say, picking up a few slips of paper, handing them to him in an ordered fashion. “These are those calls back you were waiting for, these are inquiries from the three biggest politicians running for Senate, this is a message from Frank wanting to know if you’re on for dinner at Karen’s, and these are the Ulrich files you were waiting on.”

“Thank you, paperwork Santa,” he says, moving his gaze to quickly examine what is in front of him. “And here I thought it was gonna be a slow day.”

“Around here? Unlikely,” you grin.

He is about to say something more when he turns his head to the ringing of his direct line in his office. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “We’ll talk more later.”

You turn back to your computer in astonishment. We’ll talk more later? Is this the same Billy Russo that hired you? And does he mean casual talk or work talk? He would have made it clear, wouldn’t he?

“Anvil, this is (Y/N),” you say as you continue typing a contract on your desktop.

“(Y/N), hi,” you hear Mr. Russo say on the other end of the line.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you ask, spinning around in your chair and watching your boss give you a little wave through the industrial loft windows.

“We’ve been over this, you can call me Billy,” he reminds. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” You have to suppress a blush. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off of a call about that veteran’s fundraiser,” he says, and you shift to flip through the calendar.

“The one on Saturday night?”

“Exactly. They asked me to present an award and introduce a speaker that night. So in addition to networking and schmoozing, I’m gonna need to do some more things.”

“Let me know what you need to have ready, and it’ll be good to go by Friday night.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d come with me Saturday. With my upgrade in duties, they gave me a plus one.”

What? “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t know if I have anything black tie like that,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll have it all taken care of. So can I take that as I yes?”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter. “And—.”

“Perfect, you’re the best,” he says, having up the phone with a click.

Did your boss just ask you out? Or is this really just a work engagement?

When you come home from work on Friday, you see a black dress bag hanging off a garment rack with black bag hanging next to it. Locking up and putting down your things on the table by your door, you slowly move over to it.

“Told you I had it taken care of,” the note reads on the bag.

“What did you do, Russo?” you breathe, undoing the zipper. Inside, there is a stunning pine green gown. You look at the label and your mouth drops open: Oscar de la Renta. Taking it out of the bag, you see that it has a v-back, but has fabric coming off of each shoulder to give it a kind of cape effect. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion when you dare look over at the jewelry bag on the right next to it, seeing Harry Winston embossed in gold lettering. Carefully, you take it off of the hangar and peak inside, seeing three boxes neatly arranged. Placing it on your breakfast bar, you pull out the large necklace box, opening it to reveal both a sparkling diamond necklace and its matching earrings. Shocked, you pull the other two boxes out and find that they are the corresponding bracelet and ring. As you look down in disbelief, you catch a Louis Vuitton shoe box at the bottom of the rack.

You sit down on the barstool, lightheaded about the luxury that is around you. As if on cue, you see Billy’s contact light up on your phone.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen what you’ll be wearing tomorrow?” he says after you pick up.

“It’s way too much,” you say. “I appreciate it, but all this is more—it’s too much.”

“It fits the event,” he shrugs off. “It’s a ritzy event full of high-rolling investors, contributors, and other people within the top one per cent. Trust me, you’ll fit right in.”

“I just . . .”

“It’s a lot?” You swear he’s smiling like a devil on the other end.

“A hell of a lot.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the jewelry is on loan,” he says. “But the dress and shoes are yours to keep. Oh, and before I forget, you have an appointment to get your hair and nails done tomorrow with Donna at the Marigold Spa. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before your brain can think to ask him more, he is off the line, leaving you stunned in your apartment.

“Who is it?” you call from your apartment, responding to the rap at the door.

“Your chariot has arrived,” Billy says through the wood.

“I’m almost ready,” you say, nearly falling over as you try to put on the heels standing up. “Come in! It’s open.” You hear the door open and shut, and the click of expensive shoes against the vinyl floor.

“You know, for someone that works for a security company, leaving the door unlocked isn’t secure,” he teases.

“I knew you’d be over soon and I was still getting ready,” you say. “Just a courtesy.”

“To robbers.”

You chuckle as you successfully gain your footing in one of the shoes. “There’s water in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” you start as you slide on the other shoe, throwing a few last minute things in your clutch, and taking one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“I’m good," you hear him chuckle in a low timbre as you clack your way out of your room. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright, I’m all set to go,” you say as you enter the main living space.

Billy turns toward you and stands stock still. His eyes slowly look over your body from head to toe. It’s as if he’s drinking you in.

“Wow,” he finally says, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights of your kitchen.

“Well, the guy that picked it out has really good taste,” you say with a small grin and a blush rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

He continues to look at you for a little while longer before he realizes that he’s staring.

“These are for you,” he says, holding out a bouquet of burgundy, cream, and lavender roses. “A little thank you for agreeing to come.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, smelling them. You move to find a vase, getting the flowers settled before walking back towards Billy.

He puts out his arm for you to take.

“Shall we?”

“I still can’t figure out how you manage to do it,” you say as you walk beside Billy after he schmoozes the last of the big-wigs in tuxedos.

“Do what?” Billy asks with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Work so well with these upper-crusty people. Some of them very clearly just a face at this fundraiser and don’t care the same way you do. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Unfortunately, that’s just what the business is sometimes,” he sighs. “But then I remember that Anvil gives veterans an outlet when they get home—a legitimate career. Then it makes the schmoozing and pretending to care about their Hamptons houses easier.”

“That’s a great way to think about it,” you say softly.

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Instead of walking to the direction of your table, Billy leads you to the edge of the dance floor.

“Care do dance?” Billy smiles.

“I can’t promise that I won’t step on your toes,” you say, feeling a blush prick at your cheeks and your ears.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the band play something slow.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if his Marine-trained ears could hear how hard your heart is beating.

“How can I say no to that, then?” you say with a small smile, your mouth suddenly very dry.

Billy takes your hand and leads you in. As if the band knows, the song shifts to something slow. Billy holds one of your hands in his while the other rests on the small of your back, his palm spread wide, securely holding you as you both move across the floor.

“And here I was thinking you had two left feet,” he grins.

“Well, I guess it helps that it’s not a formal ballroom dance,” you blush. Seriously, he has to know how fast your heart is racing right now.

“Is this what you thought you’d be doing with your life?” Billy asks as you slowly move in a circle. “Being a secretary, dealing with executives and government officials, and going to charity fundraisers?”

“Isn’t it every little girls dream?” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckles, twirling you to the music before he pulls you back into frame.

“No, really,” Billy whispers. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”

You think about it, but only briefly. “An author, I think. With all the time I spent in the system, I always tried to figure out how I could get out or what it would be like when I did. I’d just write about it. It moved from that to creating these different worlds and different people that were everything that I wasn’t and everything that I couldn’t be. Those are what made me happy. Scholarships from those stories is what got me through college to get my undergrad.”

There’s something soft in his eyes, tender even, as he listens to you talk about your childhood dream. It’s soul-churning and completely devastating in every sense of the word.

“What about you?” you return. “I’m assuming that the military wasn’t six-year-old Billy’s dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he admits. “I wanted to be a baseball player. But there were things that happened when I was a kid . . .” He clears his throat. You’ve touched a nerve.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, it’s okay. Saying that my childhood was shitty is an understatement, but it made me who I am and brought me here. In a way, I think the Marines was the only thing that made sense for me.” He gives you a gentle smile, pushing away the dark cloud that emerged on his face. “And just think: without it, we wouldn’t have met. And I don’t know about you, but our time together makes me happier.”

Your heart stops and leaps into your throat. He has to just mean as a coworker—maybe just even someone who isn’t an ex-Marine that he gets to see to break up his environment. You can’t let your mind go to these conclusions. It’d just be a disappointment, and he’s my boss. Still, you find yourself unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze, the tenderness in his expression making you melt. The song stops and he drops the frame, and you let your eyes flutter a few times so you can adjust your head out of the haze he has placed you in. Billy keeps his hand in yours as you stand, pointing his head towards your table.

“C’mon,” he says. “I heard the steak was supposed to be amazing.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Billy asks as you hand him a bottle of water, his elbow cooly leaning against the island.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit, taking off the heavy jewels. “I don’t know, I hear fancy fundraiser, and I don’t think ‘party.’”

“That’s cuz you’ve never been to a Billy Russo fundraiser,” he smirks.

“I guess those are the only ones worth going to, then.”

“You know, I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“You are?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh,” you blush, but a nagging question starts to echo in the back of your brain. “I-I didn’t mean to. Just tired.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you be for the night,” he says with a soft smile, giving you hand a gentle squeeze on the island before he moves away. “See you Monday, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Okay, that’s it.

“Are you only being nice to me because you found out I grew up in foster care?” you blurt as he walks towards the door. There’s no turning back now. “Before, you’d never say more than you needed to to me, and now for five months, you’ve gotten me flowers, you ask about my day, you know my coffee order, and you left me an insanely gorgeous gown and jewelry to wear to a fundraiser that I wasn’t supposed to go to in the first place.” You pause for a moment, processing that you’re probably running a bond that you’ve wanted for a long time, not to mention your job, probably. “What’s changed?”

“You know I grew up in the system?” he asks, his head turned to the side while his back is still to you.

“I do,” you answer. You had done some deep digging when you were applying for the job, trying to find out as much about the company and its founder as possible.

“Then you should realize that I sympathize with you. Pouring your life into something to move yourself as far away from your past as possible.”

“What I’m really hearing is that all of this from the last few months has just been pity,” you say bitterly, and you try to push away the feeling of tears stinging at your waterline. “And if that’s what this job has turned into, then I don’t need it. I know my worth, and it’s more than that—than whatever this is.”

Your statement causes him to spin around so fast you think he’s gonna get whiplash. He strides over to you so quickly you almost can’t process it. He drops his keys to the ground before kissing you hard, one hand on your waist as the other holds onto the back of your head. He almost knocks you off your feet, but his hands on your body assure that it can’t be a possibility. Your hands rest on his shoulder as your lips move against him, kissing him back just as urgently. His beard tickles a little, but you’re not moving in a way that makes it scratch. When Billy finally pulls away, you’re both left panting for air.

“It’s not pity,” he clarifies. “It’s admiration. I had always thought you were some brown-noser with daddy issues, but you always had this integrity and determination. And then . . .” he trails, his eyes intent and glassy. “I know that drive you have, and that fear of being a disappointment. Hell, that’s how I got here. I wanted to show you that we’re not that shit that happened to us. I wanted to show you that I care.”

“It’s a hell of a way to show it,” you say quietly, looking at his big brown eyes. “I, um . . .” you swallow hard and let emotion contort your face, reeling your feelings in before you continue. “Every time someone finds out, they treat me differently. I really didn’t want you to be one of those people. You might not have thought so, but the way you treated me before made me feel like I finally had a place, y’know? I had a purpose to do something. That I was needed and wanted.”

“I know,” he nods.

“I guess I’m just confused why now.”

“You’ve been my secretary for four years. You know things about me that I don’t even know all the time. You know things about me that you don’t need to know, but you care enough to. I’ve always wanted to know those things about you, but . . . I’m not great at communication with people that—.” He stops to clear his throat, furrowing his brows together. “The only good relationships I have are with Frank and Curtis, and that’s because we’ve been through hell and back with and for one another. I didn’t know where to start with you, because you just come in and you’re like this . . . force to be reckoned with. I guess that finding out we had something in common made me think I could know you better.”

Billy tucks some stray hair behind your ear as he looks at you. “I don’t want to go back to what this was before,” he says softly. “I like this. Having a friend. Connecting with someone. And . . . I like to think this has the potential to be more than that. Than friends.”

“Well, I guess I need to know if you kiss all your friends like that.”

A small smile spreads across Billy’s face. “Just the ones that use lemon shampoo and look good in designer dresses.”

“I’m not fired, am I?” you whisper. “Because I think a kiss like that is some kind of HR violation.”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” he responds. “I will say, though, the job market is tough right now.”

“Is this something we can do?”

“I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

You nod your head. “Let’s try it.”

Billy leans back in for a kiss, this one more gentle that the last, but just as deep. Your arms wrap around him and settle on his back, and you feel him lift you up slightly as he pulls you into him.

“We’re gonna do this slowly,” he breathes, brushing his nose against yours, his chocolate eyes staring into your soul.

“Okay,” you quietly agree. “Slow.”

“We have different definitions of slow,” you hum as Billy presses a kiss to the back of your naked shoulder.

“Trust me, I wanted to, but I have a thing for brunettes in designer dresses,” he says, dragging his hands down the bare curves of your body in post-sex bliss. “And it looks just as good on the floor as it did on you tonight.”

You laugh as you roll onto your back, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Hi,” he says with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hi,” you say, returning his gaze. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your lips before resting his cheek on the crown of your head. You lay like this in blissful silence as his fingers play with yours, the pale moonlight trickling into your bedroom through the curtains. You think he has fallen asleep—and you almost have—when he shifts a little on the mattress.

“Did you ever think of finding them?” he asks quietly. You know exactly who “them” is.

“I did find them,” you say. “I found out all about them, too. A little after I told you about growing up in the system, actually—curiosity got the best of me.” You think about what you know, and the silence weighs heavy in the bedroom. “My father was an alcoholic, and my mother used all kinds of drugs. They had a short and nasty relationship and split before I was born. My dad worked on the docks, showed up one day drunk, hit is head, and drowned. Based on his obituary, I was six when he died. My mom sobered up around that time, got married, and lives in Cape Cod.” You feel hot, angry tears sting at your waterline. “Two kids, and a freakin golden retriever.”

“And I’m guessing you don’t want to reach out?” he asks carefully.

You scoff. “No. Didn’t want me then, won’t want me now. I’m a part of that past that she worked to forget. I don’t want to go near her with a ten-foot pole. Besides, if she wanted to know me, she’d find me. She’d find a way. And she hasn’t. That says all I need to know.”

Billy wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, pressing a long kiss to your forehead.

“She’s missing out on the best person that I know,” he whispers.

Too emotional to respond, you snuggle into him and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Have you?” you whisper. “Found yours?”

“I found my mom,” he swallows. “She chose meth over me—she safe-havened me. From then on it was group homes.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I think I’ve made my peace with it all. Can’t change it. But it made me who I am, and I’m okay with who I am.”

You don’t ask any more onto the subject. Instead, you snuggle in closer to him.

“For what it’s worth,” you breathe. “I really like who you are, too.”

Billy turns so you’re huddled together chest-to-chest, his arms holding onto you tightly, kissing your forehead before tucking your head under his chin. You fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

You practically jump out of your skin when you feel a pair of arms loosely wrap around your middle.

“Jesus, Billy,” you sigh. “You really don’t make a sound if you’re not wearing Italian leather shoes.”

His laugh comes out as a hum as he places a kiss on the back of your neck, right on a bundle of nerves he found out about last night.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he murmurs into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you grin as you turn the waffle maker.

He kisses your neck again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought the guy was supposed to make breakfast.”

“Not in my house,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as you move to flip some bacon. “My place, my job to make you some food.”

“Fine,” he sighs, moving from you, but not before placing a light smack on your rear. “But I make the coffee.”

“You want any eggs?” you ask.

“Nah,” he says, pouring coffee grounds into the filter. “This all is more than enough. I don’t usually get to enjoy this part.”

“Well, if we’re gonna make a habit of this, it’s something you better get used to.”

You finish making breakfast in harmony, exchanging sections of the newspaper as you eat.

“Wow,” Billy chews, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re destroying the crossword.”

“It’s a talent,” you smirk as you pause before filling in the rest of your answer. “Now, is it ‘ei’ or ‘ie’ in Steinbeck? I can never remember.”

“I guess you got cocky too soon,” he smiles.

“Yes, and I’m big enough to admit it. Which is it?”

“I’ll tell you, but it’ll cost ya.”

“Oh?” you say as his hand slides into mine, silently inviting you to get up and sit in his lap. You do, and his free hand squeezes your thigh.

“It’s gonna cost you a kiss,” he hums.

“Mm, you run a hard bargain, but I think I can afford that,” you smile, biting your lip as you press your mouth into his. It’s tender, and even with coffee in your systems, there’s something sexily sleepy about the embrace.

“It’s ‘ei’,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours before placing another kiss on you lips.

“Thank you,” you say, filling in the squares and placing a soft kiss on the freckle just below his eye. His hand then gently holds your cheek, bringing your lips down to his. The kisses grow more needy, and just after he adjusts you so your legs straddle his lap, his phone starts to ring. Reluctantly, he pulls away and looks at his phone.

“Shit,” he hisses before he answers. “Hey, Frankie.”

“Brother, where are you?” you hear Frank ask through the phone.

“Yeah, no, I’m on my way,” he sighs. “I just got a little held up this morning.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hear him chuckle. “Where’d you find this one?”

Billy looks at you with warm, sparkling eyes. “I think she found me.”

“And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.”

“Yeah, shut up,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon.”

Billy hangs up to avoid any more snark over the line from his friend, but not before kissing you once more.

“I didn’t realize it was this late,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

“I know: ten o’clock runs with Frank, every Sunday. And if you go by the office, you have some extra workout clothes there so you don’t have to run in a tuxedo.”

“Nothin’ gets by you.”

“Nope,” you smile, popping the ‘p’.

You get up from his lap and begin to clean up the table while Billy moves back to your room to get his clothes.

“I will trade you one dress shirt for one very soft and fluffy robe,” he offers when he comes back into the kitchen, your Hello Kitty robe hanging from his finger.

“I guess I accept,” you sigh dramatically. You slide Billy’s shirt off of your body and hand it to him as he slides the robe onto your shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, adjusting the collar on your robe.

“Tomorrow,” you nod. “Have fun with Frank.”

“Somethin’ tells me I’d be havin’ more fun here.”

He leans down to kiss you, repeatedly procrastinating his delay with each punctuation of his lips.

“Okay,” he kisses. “I’ll see you—.” Kiss. “—tomorrow morning—.” Kiss. “—bright—.” Kiss. “—and—.” Kiss. “—early.”

You giggle as he takes you in for more kisses. You pull away from his reach, only to be swept back in for one final kiss.

“I really gotta go, now,” he sighs, tucking hair behind your ear.

“I know. I’ll see you soon.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #billy russo smut #billy russo x you #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #ben barnes #billy russo punisher #the punisher #the punisher netflix #the punisher disney+

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maleyanderecafe · 8 months

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Love, Sam (Game)

Created by: Korean Linguistics Lab

Genre: Horror

This one is a bit of an old game so you might have seen youtubers and other streamers play it, but I haven't until now so that's why this post is here. It is a very good short game about a story of an obsessive yandere where things are not how they seem. I would recommend watching or playing this game before I go in and spoil the entire thing. As a horror game, does include things like jump scares and loud noises so do be warned.

The story is mostly focused inside a single apartment. The player reads through a diary of someone who is trying to let go of their crush, with papers of the diary written inside of them, all with the ending signature, Love, Sam. The entries recount their crush on another student named Brian, a jock at the high school. As the story goes on the player faces various hallucinations of things moving and destroying their house, coming through the windows, lights turning off suddenly all in relation with the various events happening in the diary. Eventually as the story goes on, we come to realize that the character "Sam" is not actually the one who is the player character but rather another named Kyle, who is deeply in love with Brian.

The story of Kyle and Sam are written in parallel with each other so that you mistakenly believe that they are both written by Sam. Kyle's diary starts with him recounting all of the things that he and B do together, going to various places in town and how much he loves him. Between those pages are pages from Sam's diary, about her moving to a new town and trying to make friends, being annoyed by Stacy and Kyle, the mean girl and the mean jock respectively before eventually meeting another jock named Brian. Brian takes a liking to Sam and shows her around town, eventually leading to Sam developing a strong crush on him. Kyle gets jealous and joins Stacy on getting Sam drunk during a party she's attending but Brian is able to save her from it, instead bringing her to a secluded hill area, something that Kyle eventually gets angry for as he believed that it was a special place for just him and Brian. Kyle, extremely bitter of Sam's appearance in their lives proceeds to team up with Stacy to frame Sam, by taking pictures of Brian in various locations to put in Sam's locker, drawing hearts everywhere and writing notes to make it seem like she's a huge stalker. He even has Stacy dredge up Sam's past about her dad who was a pedophile, something that Sam was desperately trying to run away from. At some point though, Stacy starts to see Kyle's obsessive behavior as too much ,even believing that he's doing this to be with Sam. In the end, she ends up telling Brian what Kyle did, leading to Kyle desperately trying to get him back. Full of rage, he blames everything on Sam, and forges a note to have them meet on the hill. Kyle ends up pushing Sam off of it (whether or not on purpose or not) and then burns all of the items she had on her to prevent the police from finding out it was a murder. We also find out that Brian ends up leaving town, much to Kyle's detriment.

There are three endings to the game. One where he refuses to throw away his diary, leading to him staying in the infinite guilt he has, forced to relieve the events of the game over and over again. One where he burns the notebook and proceeds to die in the fire and finally one where he burns the notebook but confesses to the police about the murder, never able to confess to Brian.

Love, Sam does a really good job of fooling the player into thinking that they are actually Sam with the way that the two different diaries parallel each other but there are some giveaways to the fact that they actually are two different people before the ultimate reveal. The easiest is likely the clothes and the general living space as it is (at least from what I can tell in media) a lot more stereotypical of a guy, with the clothes being more masculine. There's also the fact that the two diaries have a different writing styles, with Sam's notes always signing "Love, Sam" at the end along with the fact that she often writes in the third person, and Kyle's diary never mentioning his own name and writing in the first person. Even the fact that the pages are separate from Kyle's diary are a good indication that they aren't from the same writer. Finally, is the nickname that Kyle has for Brian, "B" which Sam never calls him. There are the small details you might find strange if you didn't know what the twist might have been. Even if you do know the twist though, I think it's really interesting seeing how everything does come to play- like what Sam's actual deal is and how the other characters are interacting with it all. The fact that the two different diaries also parallel each other is also very interesting though, as it shows that they actually are not as different as you might think they are, with various actions or events paralleling each other as well.

I'm not really used to playing a lot of horror based games but this one was very fun to play and it does honestly make me want to look more for these games (it's a nice change from visual novels, that's for sure). The way that the player has to mess around with the room while the story goes on really showcases how Kyle is feeling in these different situations, either with the various scares from Sam's death haunting him, to the various events of happiness when he goes to take pictures of Brian that end up used to frame Sam, though still set in the showcase of horror. It really heightens his obsessive feelings towards Brian and the other characters as it goes on. It's able to use the room that Kyle is in so that you're not always stuck reading, and that you feel more sucked into the game as you go on.

Kyle as a yandere is a character that is someone who is very self deprecating and worships Brian to a strong level. You can tell that it's part of the fact that he's gay (he literally has to hide and come out of the closet multiple times in the game) and the fact that the town seems to be very closed off to anything that's outsider, as exemplified with Sam's journey as she's moved in. To him, there's not really any way out- he's afraid that Brian will reject him and even if that doesn't turn out disastrously, Brian is still attempting to leave town, so Kyle himself will be stuck without anyone he really cares about. He gets extremely jealous when Brian brings Sam around the places that the two hang out (whether it's out of romantic feels or simply because Brian is a nice person is never really explicitly stated) which causes Kyle to get revenge on her. Kyle is just so scared of him finding out that he's basically trapped himself, which is pretty symbolic of the room that we never seem to be able to escape from. There isn't any way out for him, unless he either dies or reveals his guilt- and even in that ending, Kyle likely never sees Brian again much less tells him what his true feelings were. You do feel sympathetic for him as he unravels, eventually leading to the death of Sam, and even he himself seems to be trying to figure out if he can really let go or not. In terms of yandere actions, of course there's the obvious obsessiveness- pretty much his entire diary is about Brian and his feelings towards him, his envy which drives him to stalk and take pictures of Brian, write letters, sabotaging Sam by writing their initials all over school and of course at the end of the game, going to kill her, even if it was possibly by accident. As per usual, I always find games that are done in the yandere's point of view are incredibly interesting because I love seeing the spiral and thought process of the yandere- why they do the things they do, how they justify it, and the kind of obsessive love that they have for their lover. It's always really nice to be able to see those kinds of games.

Overall, I really enjoyed playing this game. As I said for me, it was a nice break from visual novels and the way that the story played out was very engaging and interesting. I hope I get to play different games like this. If you are interested, please try the game out, it is very good.

#Love Sam #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #game #completed

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smokingtiger · 1 year

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We Need To Talk About Shipping

I just want to put this out there since this website seems to be full of delusional shippers who are pushing fictional narratives or chains of events that literally never happened irl. Now personally, I don't mind casual shipping (big gasp, I know). Like if you think two people are cute together or have great chemistry, that's fine; ppl tend to reflect their own desires onto other people/things, whether they be fictional or real ... create your stories, write your fics, draw some nice pictures ... the problem lies when you can no longer decipher your own fictional stories of your favorite ship from reality. If you have gotten to the point where you feel the need to argue over what ship is REAL in a space where these types of relationships haven't even been confirmed or acknowledged ... kindly exit the fandom and only come back after taking classes in human decency. If BTS hasn't confirmed a relationship, then we as fans must accept that as our reality. Of course, many of us have our speculations, but we should never overstep and promote those realms of possibility as true. You are allowed to think something might be real, but don't turn that idea of realness into false delusions about fabricated events. If you are in the ask box of a stranger accusing a BTS member of cheating on another BTS member with another BTS member... please take the time to reevaluate your life choices. I've seen jkkrs and tkkrs argue for hours over things that literally never happened. How can you guys accuse BTS members of purposely sabotaging another member in the name of a ship? I saw a jikook post that said JM was purposely trying to tick TH off by being 'intimate' with JK. Are you sure you're talking about Jimin? Like, Park Jimin? Kim Taehyung's best friend? That Jimin? One of the best examples that I can think of (right now) is JK's 25th birthday live when he told Jin that none of the members came to visit him for his birthday except for JM and HS. He confirmed TWICE that TH did not come to see him. Now normal people would look at this and just move on, bc we can understand that the other members probably sent happy birthday texts or even gave him a phone call. Just bc something is not done publicly does not mean it didn't happen. But anyways, tkkrs had the AUDACITY of accusing JK of lying, running with a fictitious lie that he had only said he didn't come to 'protect' TH. So are HS and JM not relevant in this equation at all? Did JK purposely mention JM and HS to put them in danger? You DO NOT get to accuse people that YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW of these types of things. Who the hell do you think you are? (also, I'm not targeting tkkrs, I understand that not every single one of you is a bad egg, but this is just the first example I could think of) Y'all need to throw blogs and youtube channels (*cough* taekook-lives *cough*) that have fake stories and leaked photos as evidence away. UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, DO NOT SUPPORT SASAENG/STALKER PHOTOS, EVEN IF IT'S OF YOUR SHIP. Some shippers are far too comfortable using photos that were taken of BTS without their consent as ammo. You are gross. BigHit has protections! Half of these delulu shippers can't even interpret Kor words/sentences correctly and spew false garbage that is both utterly offensive toward BTS and the Kor lang. If you can't even take the time to properly consume the nuances of what is being said, what makes you think that you're such a good detective and can sniff out a relationship? Hell, they can't even tell when honorifics are being used or if they're speaking satoori! Is it so hard to consult actual Koreans and Kor speakers to see if what you're consuming is actually correct? The Korean culture and language are not yours to maliciously weaponize when you're trying to prove a 'point'. But like I said, I feel like this community needs a lot of cleaning up. I want you to enjoy your time in the fandom, but don't attack other people on false evidence or speculations. Take care of yourself and others. Don't let your ships make you into a monster.

And as always, LOVE all seven. SUPPORT all seven. Understand that BTS' bond is so pure and lovely and there's nothing that delusional stans and shippers can say/do to ruin that.

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greenerteacups · 15 days

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my heart aches for one Theodore Nott after reading the latest update 😭 GTC, could you tell us more about your thoughts on him, his characterizations, how you manage to write him so poetically and beautifully, and (a shot in the dark, but i'll bite) the role he'll play in books 5, 6 and 7? congrats on another chapter GTC, i love you tons 🩷

Thank you so much, friend. I love talking about Theodore Nott. I'll gladly bite on that question.

To start off, Theodore's middle name might as well be "THE FOIL," because everything about him is tailor-made specifically to Say Things About Draco Malfoy. He practically hands Draco a card saying "I AM YOUR JUNGIAN SHADOW SELF, PLEASE HANDLE WITH CARE" upon introduction. They meet when they're both fresh off the train. (Hermione beats Theo to Draco by a matter of hours; there's a ton of ways this story spins differently if minor details about the first chapters were changed, and that's definitely one of them.) Then Theo and Draco ride in on the boats together. (Admittedly, I was not aiming for subtlety points with this intro. They are literally "in the same boat.") Immediately, Theo is throwing out narrative parallels like he's getting paid for it: they both have a dead parent. Both parents died under weird circumstances. Their fathers were both Death Eaters. Both of them are the sole heirs and only sons of great wizarding houses. Then they go into the Great Hall together, standing in line, but — and @piedrafundamental left a really banger analysis of the Sorting Hat scene in the comments on that chapter, but I'm going to crib just one line — crucially, "M comes before N." Draco's sorted before Theodore is, and he goes into Gryffindor. Immediately after that, Theodore's shunted into Slytherin, and their paths diverge. Call this the prologue of their relationship. They're not actually gonna get to know each other until Book 2 and Book 3, but this is the part where the narrative is basically jumping up and down and waving its arms at you, going "HEY! THIS GUY! IMPORTANT TO THE STORY! GET WORRIED ABOUT WHAT HE'S DOING, OKAY?"

Then we meet him again in Book 2, and just like Draco, a year at Hogwarts has changed him. He's a little more confident, a little more cocky, a little more comfortable, and — hey, look! He's got a weirdly intense friendship with a girl around his age, too! (Surprise, surprise, Draco is with Hermione when he meets Theo again, and who makes her debut in that moment but Pansy Parkinson?) And there's Daphne, the third leg of the Slytherin Trio, the kind of girl Draco probably would end up with in Slytherin — pretty, sociable, cunning, knows his family history (literally cites it to him in their first introduction, like c'mon), is the sister of his canonical wife, etc. etc., we got layers to this shit like lasagna but this post ain't about Daphne so we gotta move on — point being, either way he flips, Draco's going to be the fourth of a quartet. Which is the entree into the Slytherin politics storyline of Book 2, a.k.a. "the temptation of Draco Malfoy," where Theo is — I mean, to be honest, for once he's really not doing anything that sinister; from his perspective, he's kind of just putting his fucking back out trying to make a friend? He's drawing Draco in a regression towards prejudice and comfort, naturally, but that's not how he sees it. But there's a counterpoint between what Theo's offering and what waits for him in Gryffindor.

So that's the starting block of his character. The rest of the work is building a real person out of that; obviously, you can't just go "this is Foil Man, does whatever a Foil Can" and expect people to be interested. Part of what makes Theo interesting, to me, is that the traits he shares with Draco include a lot of what we tend to like about him — he's driven, intelligent, cunning, and brutal in the defense of those he loves — it's just that the people he loves, the people he surrounds himself with, are deeply prejudiced people committed to doing profoundly bad things. He's been trained from birth in the art of making bad people happy, and he's gotten good at it. And he's just enough of a coward (again, pot and kettle) that he can't imagine a world where that's not the case.

And it drives him fucking crazy that Draco won't admit that. Because I think Theo thinks if he can get Draco to admit they're similar people, it'll validate the choices he's made — like, yeah, he's fucked up horribly, but anyone would do the same, if they had to face what he has. Even Saint Draco. And of course, Draco is absolutely unwilling to go there with him, because:

(a) he very much does not want to believe that his years of grueling internal growth and struggle for betterment are just the product of some good luck with a hat; i.e., a suggestion that is not just insulting but terrifying because it suggests how very close he could be to regression at any time; but also:

(b) it is a fundamental tenet of Theo and Draco's dynamic that Draco does not like Theo as much as Theo likes him. Because where Theo sees his mirror in the light, Draco sees his mirror in the dark. And it's an increasingly ugly picture.

#greenteacup asks #lionheart spoilers #lionheart

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motherstone · 2 months

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About the rewrite...

I was considering whether or not to post it publicly, on one hand, suspense would be nice, on the other.... It's actually helpful when I get the occasional input from somebody else because more often than I liked to, I have blindspots and end up being too biased to a character (cough Trellis cough), so a different pov would be nice. Public it is methinks.

I'm working on a comic rn, so compiling my concepts to share may take AFTER I finish it. Which may take a while. But I got a very solid outline of where the story would go, the parameters, the gist. That said, I don't think I'll ever draw it as a comic, maybe I'd do scenes or two, heck, I'm not even sure if I should write it as a fic because it may end up being a different story. Who knows. But I will type it out what I could. But honestly, if I was paid for it, I'd redraw Amulet from scratch lmao.

Another in all honesty, I'm struggling to not only to balance the focus which characters should have and how much focus they should have, I also have to make sure that it's either a.) actually related to the overall theme, b.) pushes their character growth or development c.) pushes the plot d.) actually expands the world. Easy for major players except Navin, a HUGE struggle for the minor ones. Yeah I might need help in that.

I would also throw in some supplementary material that would likely not be a huge focus of the story, but def helps build up the worldbuilding in the rewrite, like how the EK came to power, what's the stones actual nature are, precursors, the works.

I already told a good chunk of it to someone on IG, and they helped me think critically and ask some questions that I haven't thought about but needed answering, hence the choice to make it public and semi-collaborative.

Hopefully, the reception to my ideas are warm 🫡

#amulet series #kazu kibuishi #motherstone rewrite

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turtlesundaes · 2 months

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MARCH FOR RAPH DAYS TEN, ELEVEN AND TWELVE !!!!

Completely copied and pasted from my notes so you guys can have some cringe ramblings :>

———

SO… WE ALL REMEMBER MARCH FOR RAPH…

And I sort of got grounded…ish..

So instead of actually doing the prompts like we’d normally do- (drawing, writing, etc.) -we will rant about the topic instead because depression sucks but I still really want to do this !!! :>

I will be letting my mind wander so I will probably get off topic but I try my best.

Also some of these might become actual fanfics (???)

And it will all be posted within the same five minutes because why not.

DAY 10. Bowling with Casey

I did start drawing this one and it was gonna b a bunch of Raph and Cassandra doodles bc I had done Casey jr. for day six but generally they would be SO chaotic.

I totally see Raph having to explain what bowling even is to Cass at first (bc yk I don’t see her knowing much bc of being in the foot clan that is literally just a cult with ninja skills- I do see her knowing hockey tho from her childhood bc I don’t think she was born into the cult but just been in it from a super young age like six or something? yk what I mean??) but once she gets it she will absolutely demolish!!!

Like as in the bowling ball won’t even touch the floor because she throws it just perfectly.

When I think of Raph bowling I instantly think of him using baby rails and it TAKES ME. But I do think he would be decent at it, not the best in the family but also not the worst. (no baby rails required)

They would be super loud the whole time though, like, 100% would be kicked out b4 they finish the game so every turn matters bc they go off whatever score they had before getting kicked out.

They would yell a bunch of catchphrases and trash talk basically but Cass probably would curse very loudly out of habit and that’s like, the main reason for them getting kicked out.

Raph wouldn’t mind the getting kicked out part (cause I totally see them doing this on the regular so he’s used to it) but the cursing will be only a slight annoyance. (Just cause of how LOUD Cass would be not anything against the girl honestly he just gets embarrassed)

I see Raph using curse words but ONLY when he’s alone with Cass just cause it feels normal with her but even then it’s still a rarity.

They would totally travel from place to place after getting kicked out though, then tally the points from every place and loser hosts the next outing.

DAY 11. Favorite novel

In cannon his favorite novel is obviously Jupiter Jim or something but I’ve seen so many people saying Percy Jackson and I find that hilarious.

I never read much Percy Jackson (my brother is trying very hard to get me to and I probably will… soon enough-) I did read the first book, the sun and the star, saw some of the movie aaaaand I think like two episodes of the new series ???

But as we know the guys LOVE sci-fi so the whole gist of Percy Jackson isn’t too far off from Raph’s liking me thinks.

But personally I think Raph would ADORE the Wings of Fire series (if we’re gonna get all projecting here, as per usual /pos)

Like think about it !!! Cool mystical creatures, mystery, cool diverse magic AND THE LORE ?!?!?! Also the fact that’s theirs like sixteen books (???) not Including the many spin-offs and side stories- (I have no idea what the average number is for a large series so that’s a lot for me :^) oh! And the graphic novels!!

He would so relate to Clay and think his fireproof scales are so cool. I see so many similarities. He would match his brothers with the MC’s (Mikey with Sunny, Donnie with Starflight, Leo with Tsunami) ((I am so not saying this bc I’ve done it myself-)) GOSH HE WOULD TOTALLY MAKE FAN FICTION AND HAVE LITTLE NOTEBOOKS DEDICATED TO HIS HEADCANNONS AAAAAAAAAAHHH !!!1!!1!1!!!111!

In conclusion he would be a huge geek about it all (he would rope Mikey in bc YALL-) and Mikey would make them cool cardboard wings. The end :]

DAY 12. Stir Crazy

I realllllllllyyyyyyy wanted to draw this one with Mikey and Raph in the kitchen but alas.. 😔

But yes Raph can coooook!!! 🔥🔥🔥

Not actually though. What I see in my very good vision is Raph helping Mikey out in the kitchen. Specifically, stirring.

I’d think that after the invasion Raphs motor skills in general would need improvement. This is not based on anything actually scientific I just have a ✨feeling✨ that after his whole kraang-ified ordeal he would have trouble with knowing he was in control (as most have headcannoned yes, but I like to think of mine as slightly different :p) his arm and eye and insert other places he was kraang-ified that I don’t remember here, would be significantly impacted from this worse than his not kraang infected side.

Like he would have a lazy eye, his arm would twitch/spasm and/or that whole side of his body would get pins and needles or just go numb at times.

But even then it would take a long and I mean LONG time for him to even get to that point. Before that it’s going to be even worse, like, being temporarily paralyzed and/or he would have to learn how to move that side of his body all over again.

This gives us Leo and Raph learning to move again bonding, your welcome.

But I’m not that evil to actually make him forever paralyzed, even if it was just the arm. (I’m too much of a wuss 😔)

The other side of his body would also take time to move again but that’s like a few hours compared to the months of work Raphs gonna have to put into his other side.

I don’t care that he bounces back immediately in the movie that is going to be labeled adrenaline. Also that one scene where Mikey and Donnie get thrown and Leo’s all like “go for them!! 🥺” and Raph falls on his side for a second and his arm is limp before running to them.

That split second scene is basically the whole reason why this headcannon exists.

BUT BACK TO THE PROMPT !!! :D

During healing Raph would do motor skill practice with Mikey aka baking cause Raph loves to lick the batter of the spoon when their done and stirring helps his arm. He would also flip pancakes maybe but I don’t see him doing anything like measurements cause it’s Mikey’s whole thing to cook but he helps keep the place clean :]

———

Anywizle, my apologies for missing a few days and coming back with a messy rant- but it was fun so who cares!

So buh-bye! Have a good night and/or day! It may be possibly impossible but possibly I will see you tomorrow!

#march for raph #rottmnt raph #raph tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt the movie #rottmnt april #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #writers on tumblr #writing #ramblings #ranting #rant post

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