nv-writing-archive

[nv-writing-archive]

Hello, it is me again back with another writing pompt.

Right, have you ever thought that you could win as arsonist without igniting? well, my friend look no further than this story screenshot of the arso game I wrote on reddit, I can't remember the numbers because it was one of my first neutral killing games.

I wrote it over a year ago, but the game I talk about is at least 3 years old.

the eyes are the ears of the deaf

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Relationships: None

Characters: "Bodyguard", Arsonist, Consigliere, Jailor, Werewolf, Lookout, Mafioso

Additional Tags: Asphyxiation, Description of Corpses

Notes: is it really a town of salem gameplay oneshot by yours truly without the implied/graphic deaths and executions?

Also, I might start accepting requests for ToS2, but that will have to wait

Word Count: 800

"To see is to believe."

The consigliere had a lot to say about that statement, but given that a rope was ready to snap his neck off at any moment, he could only come up with a couple erratic strings of words in his desperation.

"This is utterly bullshit!" The consigliere tried to kick his way out of the gallows. "Kill me, and all of you will die to the arsonist and werewolf!"

"Quit bluffing," the bodyguard scoffed as she referred to the entire gathering. "There is no arsonist! You're just trying to deflect attention away from your mafioso!"

"Maybe we should hear him out?" a claimless man decided to speak up. "I don't mind lynching this, but what if there is an arsonist?"

The jailor laughed from up the platform. "Do you seriously believe his bluff? I have almost all of the claims down, and I assure you, there won't be a room for one. Now, guilty I say."

"No! You're making a big mistake! Put me down!"

"The votes have been cast, and the town has decided to lynch you by a guilty vote of eight to zero!" the trial official cuts him off with firmness before lowering his voice. "Any last words?"

The consigliere glared at the crowd as he took his last breath. "May you remember this moment when the arsonist has burned this town to ashes."

As the jailor flipped the lever, the platform from below him disappeared, but to his horror, he was one of the unlucky ones whose necks didn't snap from the fall.

The bodyguard shivered at the thought of the same thing happening to her— the sliver of a chance at a slow, painful, and humiliating death. She would rather take the jailor's axe — quick, clean, and unseen.

When the wet choking noises came to a slow halt, the trial official announced, "It is too late to continue voting. Come back tomorrow."

On one hand, jinxing herself had been a passing thought long before she wound up in jail instead of home. She quietly muttered curses to herself for entertaining the thought.

"I'm a bodyguard. I've been protecting you since day one. The lookout can vouch for me."

On the other hand, she didn't have a reason to worry too much because the lookout could simply vouch for her, but that didn't make jail any less terrifying. The jailor was quiet too, almost hesitant and unsure of themself, but they gave her an affirmative hum not too long after, and she sighed in relief.

When she was freed later that night, she found that her house had been broken into; a werewolf would have ransacked the place, but her door was simply lockpicked— the mafia. At any other given time, she would have been fuming, but for once, she felt a little less angry because she could use it to solidify the trust between her and the jailor.

The trials came to a standstill until then when the werewolf and the mafia stopped killing for a couple nights. With a lack of other town investigatives, they barely had the grounds to lynch anyone.

Shortly after those uneventful nights however, the bodyguard suddenly finds a corpse at the trial grounds with a bullet to the head and ghastly eyes wide open in shock.

"It was him. I saw him kill them!" The lookout had gone ballistic on the veteran claim with screams that could be heard moments away from the trial grounds. "He's the mafioso! The last mafia!"

And so, he quietly accepts his death to the noose that day, but not without leaving his last words.

"Burn, all of you."

By the next morning, she awoke to the lookout's disembowelled guts and a brooding town square.

"It's just the werewolf left," sighed the jailor, "but everyone here has solid claims. I'm genuinely at a loss."

Everyone really was at a loss if they were so crass as to throw about random accusations that went nowhere. Whoever the werewolf was, they were a pretty good actor.

'What if the werewolf kills me?' The terrified bodyguard thought to herself. 'What if the jailor dies?'

The next morning came too soon for her liking, but then, her emotions started going over the moon. With one gruesome meal and a headless townie down, it would be the three of them left— the jailor who lost his executions, the hungry werewolf, and a relieved bodyguard.

"I trust you," the jailor whispered to her, and she excitedly nodded as they vote up the werewolf who had nothing left to say in the matter. Well, he had nothing to say to the town at least. Most of his threats were empty.

"Thank you."

She pulled out a match and lit it up.

"I'll be sure to spare you."

[nv-writing-archive]

Not sure how well of a story this would make, but I always remember my favorite Town of Salem moment. It's resulted in one of my favorite screenshots of any game ever.

To recap: I named myself "Guard", rolled RT Bodyguard in classic (so I got the only RT slot, and then happened to roll Bodyguard), and then, on the literal very first night, died taking down the Serial Killer. I was literally the perfect Bodyguard. Perfectly optimal. A Bodyguard named Guard who literally instantly died killing one of the biggest threats in the game. I don't remember much else about this game (town won, I'm pretty sure) but the sheer high of this one moment has stuck with me for years.

a sacrifice worth remembering

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Relationships: None

Characters: Bodyguard, Serial Killer, Background Characters

Additional Tags: None

Word Count: 400

"Who's that guy?" one of the townsfolk murmured to the person beside her, unable to get her eyes off the brooding stranger that stood at their opposite.

"The Guard," he could only shrug as she looked at him weirdly. "Don't ask me. That's what they said their name was."

That's what they chose to be called. There was no point in making a name for themself.

When they would later stand at the doorstep of a stranger that they knew not a thing about, they had already resigned themself for a cause that would mean their life.

They have heard a hundred stories in their lifetime about how people are only relevant in death, and in death about how they are slowly forgotten.

The thought was always horrifying to many. In fact, they would be lying if they said they weren't terrified of death, but they were honest when they said they weren't scared of dying.

Before they could knock on the door, they heard suspicious rustling from a corner of the house, and without thinking twice, they immediately went to investigate.

That's when they saw him. He was wielding a knife on one hand while the other tried to unlock the window, and he was staring at them like a deer caught in the headlights.

It was often a thankless job— being a bodyguard that is.

The last thing they saw before they died was the shocked face of the homeowner at the window, and when they came to the trials that morning as a ghost, they watched in awe as she placed some lilies where they once stood.

"That's funny. They were actually a bodyguard," she had said at one point. "I don't know your name, but I will always remember this moment. Thank you."

Nothing can compare to the euphoria that came after. Whether it was the praise or their purpose fulfilled, for what it was worth, they didn't need a name.

"That's the last of them!" she, the town's sheriff, would later announce. It had been a week since. "Salem! We won!"

Salem celebrated their victory with cries of relief.

"Hey." She walked over to the lilies she'd replaced when they wilted, but instead of looking at the flowers, she looked right at them. "This one’s for you, and it’s because of you."

Being happy for oneself is enough, but they certainly didn’t mind sharing that.

[nv-writing-archive]

Now I haven't played ToS in some time, but one game in particular has stuck with me for the 3 years I was in this fandom, and here it is.

Big Chungus the Witch (from the perspective of the witch)

It was a crazy all any game that ended with a solo witch win, so you may be wondering wtf happened here well, I'll tell you.

It was a Maf and Vamp game that both had a full team, so the town got steamrolled. There was a jester that won, actually thinking about it, I think there were two, a new player who was a mayor who was the last surviving town.

You might also add that this game lasted 9 days. It was absolute hell. The mayor didn't know how to reveal the Jesters refused to collaborate with the mafia, no one knew who the witch (aka me) was, the vamps were trolling, it was madness.

Eventually, we get both the jester hung and the mayor killed, and at that point, it was a 1v1v1 , vamps were off cooldown for biting, and there was a mafioso left and guess what I did, absolutely nothing which got me a very rare, witch only win screen.

This might be difficult to make into a short story, but I think you can manage, also player numbers below:

12 was the last mafia, 13 was the last vamp, I was number 9, 6 was one of the jester who won, 8 was one of the town who stayed till the end, I can't remember the rest of the roles though but I think 15 and 4 were both mafia if I remembered correctly.

I have an Ao3 account if you want to tag me in with that then the username is:

ShannonWillow19

the meaning of neutral

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Categories: Gen

Relationships: None

Characters: Witch, Mafioso, Vampire, Jester, Mayor

Additional Tags: Mild Gore

Word Count: 400

The town trials were not easy for a witch such as her. They aren't grouped like the mafia, having to go through the trials without knowing who her fellow witches are. Oftentimes, she had to go through it alone, and this meant she had to choose her allies.

"It's only fair that I be lynched as well," the jester announced. "You're all going nowhere. At this rate, you may as well end in a stalemate, but I know none of you want that, so why don't I break it up for you lot?"

Amongst many things, all she wanted was to watch the town wither as did the mafia, the vampires, the serial killers, the arsonists, and the werewolves. She has many options to choose from and endless possibilities because she wasn't bound to a faction.

"The mayor is finally dead. About time," the vampire chirped in a sing-song as she twirled her hair. "Hey witch, why don't we vote off the mafioso?"

"You vampires need townies alive to sustain yourselves, don't ya? The witch wants the town dead, so how about we vote you off instead?" the mafioso chimed in with a smug grin.

The witch watched as they both glared daggers at each other and threw about every desperate attempt at getting her to vote with them, but she’d already made her decision long ago.

She wasn't bound to a faction.

"How about no?"

"Excuse me?" the vampire didn't miss a beat when she'd said those words in indignation.

"What do you mean no?" the mafioso nearly yelled in shock and exasperation. "Listen, you have to vote."

When the sun sets for the two of them, it will rise the next day with her as the only victor. She found the thought exhilarating.

"You're joking, aren't you? I know. It’s more fun to watch the murder," whispered the vampire. "Make the mafioso kill himself. That would be funny."

"I promise the next time we're on a trial together, the mafia will protect you," whispered the mafioso. "Just make sure the vampire stays off me."

When the sun sets and the vampire tears a chunk of flesh off the mafioso's neck as her brain matter splatters into the wall from a gunshot in his attempt at self-defence, the witch would wake alive and roam the ghost town.

She wanted the whole town dead, not just the townies.

[nv-writing-archive]

As y'all may or may not know, I have this Town of Salem fanfic where I turn my gameplays into oneshots. I have a couple more in the works currently, but once I finish those, I will have run out of content by then.

See, the thing is I haven't played ToS for months now, my last game going as far back as January. That means the fanfic might have to go on hiatus until I find the motivation to start playing again.

Then, I realised.

What's stopping me from writing other people's gameplays?

So, here's the deal.

Send me an ask about a game you had (preferably ToS1 as I have no idea how ToS2 works), whether through a summary or a screenshot or both, and I will write about it, credit you in the notes for the idea, and respond to your ask when I finish it. You can also reply or reblog if that works better for you.

Anonymous asks are there if you don't want to be mentioned.

Do specify your pronouns if I can't find it in your profile or are anonymous.

[nv-writing-archive]

Notice

I write stories that are taboo even if I do not condone such. If you still have a problem with that, then you are free to block me.

Masterlist

WIP until I figure out what the fuck is going on with my links

WIP Tracker

NaNoWriMo

The WereCleaner

The Were Hunter: Chapter 3 [249/3000]

Town of Salem

Petunias in a Garden of Roses: Chapter 2 [2947/3000]

My Hero Academia

Not Ours but Neither Yours [934/?]

Other Blogs

@nv-archives - main/art

@nv-archives-archive - shitpost/vent/reblogs