#AND ALONG COMES THE ONE FUCKING PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO CAN TREASURE IT

[murdrdocs]

We’ve discussed Cornelius but what kind of kinks do we think Sejanus has? He’s a beautiful specimen, truly a tasty treat

firstly, sejanus is soft but not vanilla.

he's not an extreme person, he can't even imagine hurting you even if you really wanted it. he only wants to treasure you and protect you and make you feel good.

that being said, he's really into praise. both ways. he likes how pretty your moans are and how you're so pliant whenever he praises you. and he likes when you praise him because he needs verbal validation that he's doing the right thing and he's making you feel good.

he's a family person. he's always dreamt of starting a family and settling down with someone who means the world to him, so breeding and pregnancy kinks aren't a shocker for him. he loves to fill you up as much as he can, hoping that eventually one day it'll take and you'll start swelling with the blessing of carrying his baby. he also starts to get really serious about where he cums at a certain point. when you're really trying for a baby, having had talks about it and everything, he hates when his cum is anywhere other than in you. he always feels like washing the sticky white substance away is just a waste.

because he's all about pleasing you, cuckolding is something he's willing to explore. not all the time, of course, but just a handful of times he's down to let you fuck someone else while he watches. especially if it's a mutual friend, someone he knows and trusts, someone he believes would treat you just as well as he does (coriolanus).

there are some other things that he'd be open to. like impact play (never your face, though), just spanking you until the flesh starts to burn or lightly tapping your cunt when you're being a bit of a brat. he's not a massive brat tamer, but he can get stern sometimes if you're purposefully pushing his buttons with an intent to get a rise out of him. he also would engage in wax play if you wanted him to. maybe on a special occasion like a birthday or anniversary, when the setting is ultra romantic and there's wax pooled in the hollow pit at the top of a burning candle and you sweetly ask for him to splatter your chest with the red.

both ways he's into overstimulation. he has a thing about not knowing limits, or just ignoring them all together. but he has good intent! he's just so obsessed with you, he likes to give and give and give until you're crying and writhing and begging him to make this orgasm the last one. and he likes when you do the same to him. it makes him feel less vile when you deliver your form of payback. it works out for him either way, because he's still getting to feel you. your cunt and your hands and your mouth (your feet once or twice). it's all you and he truly can't get enough.

special mention: he likes body worship. he loves kissing along your entire body and worshipping you and thanking you for coming into his life and making everything so much more bearable. he needs you to see him the way he sees you, so there are a few times where he'll fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see what he sees. and with his body worship comes him kissing all of you, even your feet and under your arms.

if you try to do the same to him, he gets all shy and nervous and tries to tell you you don't have to. but if you kiss him just enough, he won't notice that you're in front of the mirror and if you get on your knees, he'll do anything for you. even stare at his reflection in the mirror as you make him cum on your tongue.

[zedecksiew]

(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

In the ongoing project of rescuing useful thoughts off Xwitter, here's another hot take of mine, reheated:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

The quote comes from Luke Gearing and his excellent post "Against Incentive", to which I had been reacting.

My thread was mainly intended as a fulsome nodding along to one of Luke's points. It was posted in 2021, and extended in 2023 after Sidney Icarus posed a question to it. So it is two threads.

Here they are, properly paragraphed, hopefully more cleanly expressed:

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(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

This is my main problem with mechanically rewarding pro-social play: a character's ethical choice is rendered mercenary.

As Luke Gearing puts it:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

Bear in mind that I'm not saying that pro-social play can't have rewarding outcomes for players. Any decision should have consequences in the fiction. It serves the ideal of portraying a living, world to have these consequences rendered diegetic:

The townsfolk are thankful; the goblins remember your mercy; pamphlets appear, quoting from your revolutionary speech.

What I am saying is that rewarding abstract mechanical benefits (XP tickets, metacurrency points, etc) for ethical decisions stinks.

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A subtle but absolutely essential distinction, when it comes to portraying and exploring ethics / morality, in roleplaying games.

Say you reward bonus XP for sparing goblins.

Are your players making a decisions based on how much they value life / the personhood of goblins? Or are they making a decision based on how much they want XP?

Say you declare: "If you help the villagers, the party receives a +1 attitude modifier in this village."

Are your players assisting the community because it is the right thing to do, or are they playing optimally, for a +1 effect?

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XP As Currency

XP is the ur-example of incentive in TTRPGs. It began with D&D's gold-for-XP, and has never strayed far from that logic.

XP is still currency. Do things the GM / game designer wants you to do? Get paid.

Players use XP to buy better mechanical tools (levels, skills, abilities)---which they can then in turn use to better perform the actions that will net them XP.

Like using gold you stole from goblins to buy a sword, so you can now rob orcs.

I genuinely feel that such systems are valuable. They are models that illuminate the drives fuelling amoral / unethical behaviour.

Material gain is the drive of land-grabbing and colonialism. Logger-barons and empires do get wealthier and more privileged, as a reward for their terrible actions.

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If you want to present an ethical choice in play, congruent to our real-life dilemmas, there is value in asking:

"Hey, if you kill the goblins you can grab their treasure, and you will get richer. There's no reward for sparing their lives, except that they are thankful."

Which is another way of asking:

"Does your commitment to the ideal of preserving life outweigh the guaranteed material incentives for taking life?"

The ethical choice is the difficult choice, precisely because it involves---as it often does, in real life---sacrificing personal growth and gain. Doling out an XP bounty for doing the right thing makes the ethical choice moot.

"I as the player am making a mechanically optimal choice, but my character is making an ethical choice!"

A cop-out. Owning your cake and eating it too. The fictional fig-leaf of empathy over a calculated a decision to make profit.

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Sidney Icarus asks a question which I will quote here:

"... those who hold to their beliefs of good behaviour don't feel rewarded, and therefore feel punished. And that's not a good feeling. It's an unpleasant experience to play a game where the righteous players are in rags, and the mercenary fucks have crowns and sceptres. So, what's the design opportunity? How do we make doing the right thing feel pleasant without making it mercenary? Or, like reality, do we acknowledge that ethical acts are valuable only intrinsically and philosophically? I have no idea how to reconcile this."

I would suggest that the above dichotomy---"righteous players in rags, mercs in crowns"---is true if property is recognised as the only true incentive.

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Friends As Property

Modern games try to solve the righteous-players-in-rags "problem" in various ways. Virtue might not net you treasure or XP, but may give you:

Contact or ally slots, which you can fill in;

Relationship meters you can watch tick up;

Favour points you can cash in later;

etc.

How different are these mechanical incentives from treasure or XP, really?

Your relationships with supposedly living, breathing beings are transformed into abilities for your character: skills you can train; powers you can reliably proc. Pump your relationship score with the orc tribe until calling on them for reinforcements becomes a once-per-month ability.

Relationships become contracts. Regard becomes debt. Put your friend in an ally slot, so they become a tool.

If this is what you want play to be---totally fine! As stated previously, games say powerful things when they portray the engines of profit and property.

But I personally don't think game designers should design employer-employee relationships and disguise these as instances of mutual aid.

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Friends As Friends

In the OSR campaigns I'm part of, I keep forgetting to record money. Which is usually a big deal in such games, seeing as they are in the grand tradition of gold-for-XP?

In both games, my characters are still 1st-Level pukes, though it's been months.

I'm having a blast, anyway.

My GMs, by virtue of running organic, reactive worlds, have made play rewarding for me. NPCs / geographies remember the party's previous actions, and respond accordingly.

I've been given gills from a river god, after constant prayer;

I've befriended a village of monsters, where we now live;

I've parleyed with the witch of a whole forest, where we may now tread;

I've a boon from the touch of wood wose, after answering his summons.

I cannot count on the wood wose showing up. He is a character in the world, not a power I control. Calling on the wood wose might become a whole adventure.

Little of this stuff is codified my stats or abilities or equipment list. They are mostly all under "misc notes".

Diegetic growth. Narrative change that spirals into more play.

This is the design opportunity, to me:

How do we shape TTRPG play culture in such a way that the "misc notes" gaps in our games are as fun as the systemised bits? What kinds of orientation tools must we provide? What should we say, in our advice sections?

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A Note About Trust

The reason why it is so hard to imagine play beyond conventional incentive structures has a lot to do with trust.

Sidney again:

One of the core issues is the "low trust table". I'm not designing just for myself but for my audience. For a product. How much can I ask purchasers and their friends to codesign this part with me?

Nerds love numbers and things we can write down in inventories or slots because they are sureties. We've learned to fear fiat or player discretion, traumatised as we are by Problem GMs or That Guys.

The reason why the poverty in Sidney's hypothetical ("righteous players are in rags") sounds so bad is because in truth it represents risk at the game table. If you don't participate in the mechanics legible to your ruleset (the XP and gear to do more game things), you risk gradually being excluded from play.

You have no assurance your fellow players will know how hold space for you; be considerate; work together to portray a living world where NPCs react in meaningful ways---in ways that will be fun and rewarding for everybody playing.

You are giving up the guarantee of mechanical relevance for the possibility of fun interactions and creative social play.

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The "low trust table" is learned behaviour--the cruft of gamer culture and trauma.

When I game with folks new to TTRPGs, they tend to be decent, considerate. I think there's enough anecdotal evidence from folks playing with school kids / newcomers / etc to suggest my experience is not unique.

If the "low trust table" is indeed learned behaviour, it can be unlearned.

Which rules conventions, now part of the hobby mainstream, were the result of designers designing defensively---shadowboxing against terrible players and the spectre of "unfairness"?

How can we "undesign" such conventions?

Lack of trust is a problem that we have to address in play culture, not rulesets. You cannot cook a dish so good it forces diners to have good table manners.

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This is too long already. I'll end with an observation:

Elfgames are not praxis, but doesn't this specific dilemma in the microcosm of our silly elfgames ultimately mirror real-world ethics?

To be moral is to trust in a better world; to be amoral / immoral is to hedge against the guarantee of a worse one.

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Further Reading

Some words from around the TTRPG community about incentive and advancement in games:

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However, the reason there is a big debate about this is that behavioural incentives in games clearly do work, either entirely or at various levels. This applies outside gaming, as well. Why do advertising companies and retail business use "rewards" structures to convince people to buy more of their products? Why do people chase after "Likes" on social media?

A comment by Paul_T to "A Hypothesis on Behavioral Incentives" from a discussion on Story-Games.com

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the structure and symbolism of the D&D game align with certain structures and values of patriarchy. The game is designed to last infinitely by shifting goalposts of character experience in terms of increasing amounts of gold pieces acquired; this resembles the modus operandi of phallic desire which seeks out object after object (most typically, women) in order to quench a lack which always reasserts itself.

D&D's Obsession With Phallic Desire from Traverse Fantasy

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In short, my feeling is that rewarding players with character improvement in return for achieving goals in a specific way impedes some of the key strengths of TTRPGs for little or no benefit in return. 

Incentives from Bastionland

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When good deeds arise naturally out of the players choices, especially when players rejected other options that were more beneficial to them, it is immensely satisfying. Far more than if players are just assumed to be heroic by default. It gives agency and meaning to player choice.

Make Players Choose To Be Kind from Cosmic Orrery

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Much has been made about 1 GP = 1 XP as the core gameplay loop driver of TSR D+D. But XP for gold retrieved also winds up being something of a de facto capitalistic outlook as well. Success is driven by accumulation of individual wealth -- by an adventuring company, even! So what's a new framework that can be used for underpinning a leftist OSR campaign?

A Spectre (7+3 HD) Is Haunting the Flaeness: Towards a Leftist OSR from Legacy of the Bieth

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Growth should be tied to a specific experience occurring in the fiction. It is more important for a PC to grow more interesting than more skilled or capable. PCs experience growth not necessarily because they’ve gotten more skill and experience, but because they are changed in a significant way.

Cairn FAQ from Cairn RPG / Yochai Gal

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Thank you Ram for the Story-Games.com deep cut!

( Image sources: https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/neuron-activation https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majesty:_The_Fantasy_Kingdom_Sim https://www.economist.com/sites/default/files/special-reports-pdfs/10490978.pdf https://varnam.my/34311/untold-tales-of-indian-labourers-from-rubber-plantations-during-pre-independence-malaya/ https://nobonzo.com/ )

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PS: used with permission from Sandro, art by Maxa', a reminder to self:

[blu-oo]

Buggy was Roger’s good luck charm

So I’ve had a headcanon for a while now concerning Buggy and his place on Roger’s crew. It’s no secret that both fans and characters within the One Piece world will look at Buggy and go “How/Why the fuck were you on Roger’s crew?” Hard to say definitively whether or not Buggy actually has good luck considering the absolute hell he has to go through in order to face plant into his power/status, but you still can’t argue that he gains things he is 100% undeserving of lol. Oda’s trolling aside, let’s say that his failing upwards IS purely a result of him having his luck stats set to fucking max with a few buffs tacked on. We can even make this more fun and say the reason Buggy’s luck is so paradoxical is BECAUSE his luck goes to others instead of being reserved for himself (either that or the only reason “failure” is tacked onto this is because Buggy is a jackass and karma doesn’t sleep on her prettiest degenerates). I can see this going down a few different ways:

Maybe they were on an island along the grand line and came across a vendor selling good luck tokens. An ornate looking box catches Roger’s eye, and the vendor starts gushing about how it’s their most “luckiest item” and that it’s very VERY much worth the hefty price tag. It’s also most definitely “a worthwhile investment, trust me! It’ll all pay off in the end!” Whatever that means. Roger’s gut feeling doesn’t need to be told twice, so he buys it. This could be a moment similar to Shanks where they take the box back to the ship only for “SURPRISE! CHEST BABY!” :D to happen again. Roger is no longer allowed to go shopping/haul treasure back to the ship without Rayleigh’s stink eye supervision.

Maybe there’s something similar to the Sabaody slave market where he’s being explicitly advertised as a good luck charm. The person selling him shows off his luck by playing simple tricks (like using cards and gambling with onlookers. Look, if you’re gonna try to sell someone's luck, ya might as well make an extra buck while doing so. And hey, this just proves his good luck charm is working). While the seller is distracted, Roger easily sidels up and eyes Buggy’s mean mug. He asks if Buggy is actually lucky and gets a rudely gestured affirmative. “Great!” He says before yanking the kid up and running off laughing. Rayleigh: what the fuck is that. Roger, tankard in one hand, clown child in the other: a beer.

Maybe Roger just happens upon Buggy and and witnesses his luck in action. Sees how instant karma comes to collect after some pompous jerk spits and belittles little Buggy and immediately he’s shamed and humiliated in front of a bunch of people (in addition to Buggy pit pocketing him in retaliation). He witnesses a merchant make snide and haughty remarks and refuses to sell to Buggy because he’s a visible street rat and then immediately afterwards a flock of rabid seagulls dive bomb his stall and peck at his toupee (a piece of bread is flung and lands right before Buggy’s nose). A group of older teens beating the snot out of buggy and stealing whatever he gained that day only to then immediately run into Roger? Well. Etc. etc. etc. Roger sees all this and more and at this point he decides to take Buggy along just because of how hilarious this all is (Buggy’s eventual love for Roger and therefore his luck beginning to include Roger was just an added bonus).

And since this is such a loose concept (and ignoring that Roger was a D so the following woulda happened anyways lol) we can even say that his luck to Roger is the reason for all the success at the end of his career lol. Edd war? Buggy. Living past his initial expiration date? Buggy. Making it to laugh tale? Buggy, except wait- things didn’t go 100% to plan with that one, huh 🤔🤔🤔🤔 and guess who wasn’t there 🤨🤨🤨🤨 im playing or am i

GASP. OR MAYBE HE HAS ABSOLUTE SHIT LUCK AND HE SAPS THAT SHIT OUTTA EVERYONE AROUND HIM EXPLAINING WHY THEY ALWAYS SOMEHOW LOSE OUT IN SOME WAY INSTEAD OF HIM—

[hierarchyproblem]

In season three, there are a couple of points where a decision is made not to make use of Flint's reputation. Silver is sent instead of him to announce his return from the dead, and Silver is chosen as the man whose name is attached to the black spot. Both of these choices come over as kind of incongruous; Flint's fearsome reputation is one of the most powerful weapons the Walrus crew have! And of course the practical reason for this is that the writers know that Treasure Island doesn't work unless Silver also has a fearsome reputation. These moments are some of the points where the artifice of the show is most visible.

Except! Both times it's Billy who makes that call. It drops out of focus in the back half of the season, but you have to remember Billy still really fucking hates the captain. They're working together in the fight for survival against the encroach of civilisation, but unlike Silver, Billy and Flint are not friends!

So some of Billy's contributions to the crew's strategy in this season are:

Flint shouldn't lead raids, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be someone else

Flint shouldn't be the one to announce his return to Dufresne et al., because it would be kind of lame (?), it should be Silver

Flint shouldn't attempt to stay behind to free Vane, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be him (Billy)

Flint shouldn't be the boogeyman behind the black spot, because fuck him, he's already infamous, let's give someone else a turn - it should be Silver

All of these suggestions have the side effect of sidelining Flint. Notably as soon as Flint's not present when the judgement call is made, he's much more forthright that he doesn't want to invest any more power in Flint than he already has. I think you can totally read this into all the other instances too, even though the throughline isn't explicitly drawn: it's possible Billy is thinking ahead to how easy it'll be to remove Flint after the war is won.

What's most interesting to me, though, is bullet #2. Billy's argument here is (paraphrased) that Flint is the ghost in a ghost story, and if he shows up in person without any foreshadowing, the vibes would be wrong. Which is insane, right? We get scenes afterward of characters doubting that Flint really even is still alive, which isn't useful to them at all - that could've been avoided if he just went himself!

But, of course, the vibes would be wrong. Billy, Flint, and Silver are characters from a childrens' storybook. Black Sails is a show about stories, of course, and increasingly so as it goes on, but how much more true is that for Captain Flint, Billy Bones, and Long John Silver! These guys are storybook men, they're bound to the artifice of the story more than anyone. We know how it ends for them before we ever watch episode I, we know who they'll become. This is all over the show: how many times does Flint refer to himself as "the villain" for example? So of course if we're doing a ghost story they'll play along with the rules of a ghost story (hell, the Flint of Treasure Island more or less is a ghost)!

Yeah, fictional men make suboptimal choices that make for a more dramatic story, of course they do: that's what they're for. These guys play their part in someone else's tale not just in-world as pirates in England's propaganda, but as the characters from Treasure Island. They're bound to the story, whether they like it or not.

[tteokdoroki]

So Vampire Reo lookin like the type to be some kind of playboy or party guy to catch his prey. Going to some kind of house party to round up a bunch of people to the forest just for them to become blood packs for him and the others.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, suggestive, vampires, blood loss, blood drinking, alcohol consumption, sleazy men, violence vampire!reo, fem!reader.

i love this so bad, personally i think you have such a large brain (kisses it)

i think reo is one of the only vampires in the pack who doesn’t care or doesn’t mind who he feeds from as long as he gets his fill enough to stay strong. some might even him greedy, often times putting the others at risk with his schemes to quench their desire for blood.

once you come along vampire!reo starts taking you to these parties as bait — i think he would use you ti attract the scummy type of guys the world needs to be rid of. he dresses you up in glitz n glamour, has your hips swaying against his in the centre of the room and his lips just hovering over the pulse point of your neck because even reo can’t resist the scent of you and he’s been a vampire for centuries.

if all goes well, the two of you lure a group of intoxicated humans into the forests behind the buzzing nightlife and towards the manner with the promise of an after party and a thrilling end to the night. you could question your morality, in leading your fellow humans towards a most certain death but the praise and affection from vampire!reo seems to outdo that every time.

but tonight’s different. you’re so pretty he knows that all eyes are on his perfect little treasure and vampire!reo makes it your routine to leave you alone at the bar until some drunk dickwad approaches you — unaware of his bloody fate. you’re such a good girl too, working your charm, putting your hands on a stranger’s thigh and working your soft lips against his ear because if you don’t get this right it’s your life that hangs in the balance.

that doesn’t mean vampire!reo’s jealousy is any less real when he swoops in to play faithful boyfriend and waves you. “how about we take this outside?” he doesn’t miss the way your heartbeat flares up at his presence and you don’t miss the way reo nearly crushes the man’s shoulder’s in his supernatural grip.

so maybe that night vampire!reo’s temper flares too high and you don’t manage to lure the victim back to the manner because he’s already torn the man limb from limb and drained him dry. all because “i can still smell him on you, he got too fucking close.” reo snarls against your lips, smearing blood of another against your own as he presses you up against the wall of the alley way — desperate to replace any traces of that filthy fucking stranger on you with himself. his thigh wedged between yours and sharpness of his fangs grazing the pocket of flesh at your neck.

neither of you will have an explanation for your lack of blood when you return to the manor and neither of you care — to high on possession and pleasure to even think straight.

[swagtastic-bougie-pompadour]

Several days late, but eventually, the Clive has Arrived!

Just like the annual Naranja-Uva Summer Sandwich Squabble, or NUSSS! Tune in this weekend to watch your favorite students, staff, and even celebs?!?! attempt to make sandwiches in a variety of wacky and comedic scenarios, such as:

Balancing the sandwich on a yoga ball!

Using ingredients requested in MewTube MegaChats!

Battling for possession of key ingredients!

Three-Legged Race style teamwork!

Being sung at by a Jigglypuff!

Whatever unexpected weirdness comes up and gives Director Clavell a migraine at the last minute!

This year, all proceeds from the NUSSS go to speeding our current accessibility renovations of the school, with all excess being donated to the Open World Project--a charity dedicated to bridging the challenges that make it difficult for disabled young people starting out on journeys! We hope you tune in or show up this Saturday and Sunday!

Now, without further ado, it is time for the next installment of:

Clive Update!

Today we have a guest from behind the scenes who needs little to no introduction: the girl, the myth, the one who saves me from many an episode of cringe: Miss Penny!

...Did you have to look so... disappointed in this photo?

It's my personal form of protest. Also, for the record, right before you took this photo you had just asked me what AO3 is. I don't know what face you were expecting.

...Clive, what the fuck are these colors?

It's your red and blue hair! I figured your text had to match your stylin', snazzy 'do... No? No.

Pink. I just want pink. Thank you.

Anyways, did you really run out of guests this fast? What, did Rika drop you or something because you were going to ruin her brand? Shit, I bet that's exactly what happened.

Language! And she just... needed to reschedule. Very busy woman.

Mhm. Yeah. That's what they all say. That's like saying you went to a hotel with a friend and the only available room had one bed...

What?

AO3 things. I'll explain later.

Anyways, Pride? Obviously it's pretty important to me. I mean... really. I don't think anybody's guessing the programmer girl with a big hoodie and two-tone hair is super cishet.

My experience of being free to be myself is something built off of generations of work and protest by LGBT+ people. The first Pride was a riot spearheaded by trans women of color, and it's important to remember our roots to see how far we've come, and how far we have left to go. So Pride, to me, is a continued, "We're here and we're weird! And we're not stopping anytime soon!"

...Shit, that's just Team Star, isn't it.

Penny... I... I think that's the most comprehensive, educational answer we've had here! And I didn't even have to ask you...

Y-yeah, of course it is. You're welcome.

...Anyways, uhh, what's your follow up question? You do have one, right?

...Hm. How are you liking it here on campus, now that Team Star has re-integrated into classes?

W-wha... I wasn't expecting that one, dude! I'm... getting along okay! I've got... my greatest treasure... here, after all.

And Nemona... annoyingly loud as she is... has been really nice to me too. Plus, I've got my Veevees! And of course, how could I forget my best. Pal. Clive. Who's definitely not just cringe incarnate tormenting me until the end of my short, miserable little life.

That's a JOKE, before you start getting all emotional on me, by the way!

I forgot how wounding teenagers can be... Ah! My heart! It has been pierced! And it is all Miss Penny's fault!

Geez. You're not half bad... sometimes. Come on. In return for this, you're proofreading my new My Palafin Academia hero/rival hurt-comfort slow burn fic.

I don't understand the meaning of half of those words, but I am terrified nonetheless!

[fallingtowardstars]

Dear everyone who thinks writing comes easy. It’s really doesn’t.

I mean, sure, being born with a natural talent to be descriptive and be able to write the things you see accurately plays a big part in your writing journey. But that doesn’t mean you can’t write if you’re not good at it. I’d say, even with my writing now, that it’s not good at all. Or not as good as I want it to be. Of course we as writers always strive to get better. Better the words we use, better the narration, just over all a better fic. However, practice plays a big part.

Somewhere along 2020, in the middle of my fic posting, I received a comments telling me “you’re characterization of *redacted character* is disgusting and so off canon You’re writing is absolute shit and nothing is understandable. My 4 year old brother narrates better than this piece of garbage you call a fanfic. You could be ashamed” (the spelling and grammar mistakes are there on purpose) I think I’ll never forget this comment that was deleted. It made me who I am right now. The person who, since then, never missed one day of writing prompts and bettering my narration and leading my dialogue from awkward and unpleasant to smooth flowing and understandable. Where ever you are in the world, fuck you 💚 and thank you ❤️

I think what I’m trying to say here is that no matter how badly you want something, you can’t really get it without working really hard and being consistent even when you feel like giving up. Or that’s what I know bettered my writing journey. And I’m not Shakespeare or Charles Bukowski or Fyodor Dostoyevsky, but I’m apple and I’ve still got a lot to learn and a shit ton of fanfics to share.

Please don’t ever be discouraged if you ever receive negative comments, or actually don’t hide your unposted fics away in fear of ‘not being good enough’ because the moment you hit that ‘post’ button and your fic lurks on ao3, someone out there is going to treasure it and reread it and laugh and cry and think ‘gosh what would I do without this fic?’ And isn’t that just the entire reason of sharing it anyways?

In conclusion, writing isn’t easy and it sure can be draining sometimes. But it’s the only thing I’ve got and I’ll damn well make sure I die knowing I’m fucking good at it. Peace.

[drsp00n]

Some amateur (and even high budget) horror pet peeves of mine

I'll try to be as brief as I can be (lie) but feel free to ask me to ellaborate if I don't make sense:

Takes place in middle class USA: That's it, that's the post. I feel like one of my biggest issues with modern horror is just how americacentric it is. There's a treasure trove of concepts and stories that can be found in other cultures yet we are recycling the most mass appeal shit possible. As someone who isn't white and isn't living in the US, I'm tired of mascot horror. I went to chuck e cheese once, I don't know what an animatronic is. I want to see a horror story about indigenous people's interactions with creatures of the forest from the 7th century, I don't care about your US high school experience.

Relies heavily on nostalgia to build atmosphere: I think we are actually stagnating culturally. "REMEMBER THE 2000s!?" has become the new "REMEMBER THE 90s?", which itself has not fucking died because of the aesthetic in emulating things from the past. The culture of consumption and instant gratification has only gotten worse and offers nothing in the realm of substance. Why build atmosphere when you can just rely on people's sentimentality? Hell don't even be accurate, just grab a bunch of shit from different eras and throw it in there.

Liminal space/impossible space/Non-eucledian geometry: Listen, I love me a good infinite pit of death. I love me a good blood lake. I love an endless staircase. Abandoned city, empty school, love em. But I feel like some people's concepts of liminal space is just going outside??? When you want to rely on the vague recollection of a shared experience, much like relying on nostalgia, you also have to recognize that some of these things are just... normal? These environments only make sense from a human point of view. The way they're placed is uncanny, but also very calculated. To me, it works against the genre itself because only another person could come up with something like this.

Digital and analog horror: There's a ghost in my computer dick, aahhhh. This goes kind of hand in hand with the reliance on nostalgia. But it really seems like not many people have delved into the genre further than the typical possession story or zombie-adjacent apocalypse. Within a year it became saturated. There are a few fun stories here and there, but these stories can only function in the realm of having all the time in the world to lead you around an easter egg hunt, or having a youtuber do it for you. ARGs can be fun, but most of them are tedius and pedantic. The payoff is usually not worht the buildup and the aesthetics get old very quickly. They're neat as something you can do basically from your bedroom with a shitty laptop, but beyond that they're not that remarkable because most are lacking in that creative spark.

It was capitalism all along: Alright, time to throw hands. Greed has been a driving force for most of the tragedies in human history. Many stories have themes of capitalism that are not outright addressed, but are just visible enough for you to realize that it's one of the main causes for the events of a story. However, I feel that we have reached a point in social awareness that gives people the resources and information needed to say meaningful things. We KNOW capitalism bad, but what do we do with that? Nothing! Political themes and horror are at odds because while we are running around from big scary monsters, people in the real world are actually dying by the thousands due to corporate greed. Horror itself is not something that HAS to say very meaningful things on a large social scale, but I just tune out when the villain is a CEO that turned 7 children into ghost fuel to make a 4% profit on the 2019 fiscal year. Someone in the story died because their boss exploited them too much and now they're a wraith? That sucks, that happens all the time in the real world. Have a little bit more tact with this subject matter or don't use it at all.

Mascot horror: As stated above, I can't take these kinds of stories seriously because they rely on such a dumb premise to begin with. These are stories for literal children, so I shouldn't complain too much. But they take center stage on most social spaces, so I will complain. In stories where the ghost of middle class children get to possess robots or costumes or whatever, EVERYTHING should be fucking possessed. You've probably heard every other criticism about how lazy and saturated the field is so I don't have to bring it up. But I can't engage with the premise in general.

I get that this is mostly a mainstream issue, but sometimes I wish people would just pick up a book sometimes and tell something new instead of trying to be barely deritative of something else lol

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Lower One's Waltz

Summary:

Two times Cater danced with his beloved, and one time he danced with a traitor.

('Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure' 125 kudos celebration!)

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done to me, betrayer Throw your stones and stab me with your hateful stares Curtain call, the final act, so say your prayers So long to you beloved traitor

The first time Cater danced with his beloved was when he was feeling a little hope.

One thing the Queen of Heart is famous for is the saying, "off with their head". Ever since he was little, Cater always thought that the queen was a great person. Someone who can express her annoyance and actually do something about it. For a little boy who is trapped with his stepfamily whose heart is filled with hurt. Cater longs to have the power to express himself one day.

Going to NRC is an escape for him. He's the loud kid, the social butterfly, the one who always smiles on magicam. He's the dominant one in conversation who would whine and sigh loud when nothing goes his way. However, he's careful. Nobody knows the hurt. He can't let anyone knows about it. He doesn't want his reputation to be ruined. He has to keep smiling.

So why the fuck was Trey Clover being suspicious of him?

He was his roommate back in the first year. A gentle guy and a rather good-looking one as well. A great baker who provides all-nighter snacks for everyone in the room. A smart student, making sure no one gets left behind. A perfect candidate for a prefect or at least vice prefect. Maybe it was because he is so gentle that Cater lowered his guard down.

It was that one instance when Cater didn't smile. It was a bad day for him where everything became too overwhelming. And the ever-so-patient Trey was there, sitting next to him with their back leaning against the bed. He didn't force him to tell him anything. He was offering:

"If you need someone to talk to, I'm always here to listen."

"Why?" Cater asked.

Trey smiled gently. "Because I believe that no one should be alone."

Cater wasn't ready to believe him fully, but there was a little piece inside of him that was willing to give Trey a chance. He wasn't ready to cry in front of him or to admit emptiness clawing inside him. But instead, he stood up and pulled Trey's hands. Trey didn't protest albeit a little bit confused, but the ever bright Cater (no matter how fake it was) didn't stop. He spun them around in a childish dance and he smiled genuinely. It was rare for him because Trey even widened his eyes. Cater had suspected Trey knew he was wearing a mask to hide his real broken self away, thus this moment of vulnerability in form of a noncoordinated dance was a precious moment for both of them.

It ended too soon, unfortunately, but Cater pulled them closer, clutching Trey's back as he rested his face on the other's shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll tell you soon."

Trey hugged him back. It was so warm. "I'll be waiting."

———

The second time Cater danced with his beloved was when he was feeling a little jealous.

The one name Cater fears and hates is Riddle Rosehearts. He came during his second year and he had been getting on his nerve since the coronation. Yes, there was a coronation. Held to crown the new prefect of Heartslabyul.

And that prefect was Cater.

It was something unexpected, so totally out of the world. At the same time, it was a dream come true. The power that he wished for a long was now in his hand. He swore to himself that he won't lose it, that he will use his title with care, to make Heartlabyul a fun place to live in.

And of course, he chose Trey to be his vice prefect.

Call him selfish, but Cater had become too attached to Trey. He had appeared very often in his picture (more like Cater pulled him along, though Trey never protested it), they had spent many times studying and hanging out outside of school. He wants to always be with Trey.

And yet, Trey seemed to try to get closer to Riddle. Cater saw them talking to each other so often that it made him grit his teeth. Trey was with Riddle when he was supposed to be with Cater. He's his vice prefect.

So why the fuck Trey Clover is trying to get closer with this first year?

"What's your relationship with him anyway?" Cater asked one cloudy day.

"He is..." Trey let out a sigh, "...was my childhood friend. It had been so long since I've seen him."

Childhood friends, huh? They had a relationship before them. Something inside Cater cracked like the dark thundering clouds above them. He was afraid. Afraid that Trey would leave him for Riddle Rosehearts. Afraid that the emptiness becomes worse without him. Afraid that he had to wear a thicker mask to the point he no longer knows recognize his true feeling.

Cater wasn't ready to lose that and he still want to keep Trey on his side. He was still holding on to that childish hope that Trey would be the one who could take this ugly feeling away from him forever. Thus, he grabbed Trey's hand and pulled him to the center of the rose maze. Trey didn't protest, but even he had a hard time keeping up with Cater. His dance is harsh and fast like the downpour to the point of almost ripping Trey's arm off. For the first time since he became the King of Heartslabyul, he abused his authority in this dance, dominating and not letting Trey slow down. It was about Cater and Cater alone.

Cater snapped his fingers. "You're my vice, aren't you? Shouldn't you be with me?" For the first time, Cater felt like he terrifies Trey.

But the other still nodded. "Of course."

"Then stay with me tonight."

"Yes, prefect."

———

The only time Cater danced with a traitor was when he was feeling a little dead inside.

Cater knew that his time was limited. There were rumors circling in the dorm of Riddle Rosehearts' overpowered magic ability. The kid had made a name of herself. A perfect replica of the Queen of Hearts from her anger and her ruthlessness in enforcing the rule. A perfect candidate for the prefect position and a threat for Cater. Days went by with building anxiety like the dread of execution and he had no way to escape this. It was embarrassing when he admit to Trey that he hadn't been doing well in class these recent days. He wasn't really touching his afternoon snack. He hadn't been able to post on magicam. Even smiling felt like a chore. He was slipping and he knew it. And yet he couldn't drop it. Not now. Not when he had built it for a year.

Of course, Trey was the first one to notice. He was true to his world to be with him more than just being his vice prefect. But there would be times when Cater would catch him hanging out with Riddle. What was worse, was how Riddle seemed to warm up with Trey. He could see a small smile when Trey handed his signature strawberry tart. Cater recalled the night Trey made that tart, saying how Riddle was the first one to taste his baking when they were a child. While Cater did coo, deep inside he knew he felt the swelling jealousy.

But Cater couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop the countdown. It was too late now to become a harsh prefect. He had built his persona as the sunny kid who is always smiling despite the problems surrounding him, the fun prefect who let you do whatever you want as long as you aren't breaking the rule. Everyone would assume that these things won't bother him, thus he kept up the act. He had to keep up his image.

So why the fuck is Trey Clover testing his patience?

The hallways were dark, devoid of any students for it had passed their curfew. Cater and Trey stood facing each other, not really talking. For one, Trey actually looked guilty and Cater didn't know why at the moment. But suddenly, Trey pulled Cater closer. Cater did let out a confused noise, but Trey seemed not really paying any attention as if his mind was filled with puzzles. His dance was desperate yet unsure. It felt like he wanted Cater to take the reign but he wasn't ready to hand it to him. Trey stepped on Cater's foot many times and never apologize (but Cater didn't mind because the pain sort of grounded him) and very pulls were carefully calculated like was holding on to the flimsiest string (Cater held his hand tighter to remind him that he's not fragile). Trey wasn't even smiling, only frowning, which made Cater unable to smile as well.

Finally, Trey stopped and he pulled Cater into a hug. Cater could feel Trey's lips close to his ear. And the other whispered. "Riddle challenges you to a duel for the crown. And the headmaster allowed it."

Cater sucked in a breath. This is it. "He can't..."

"I'm sorry." Trey held him tighter as if Cater would break if he didn't (and to be honest, he would). "I tried to stop him."

Cater didn't say a word. What was left to say? His execution was the next day. It was too late to confess everything to Trey. He would carry this to his graduation.

It turned out to be true as the collar cast by Riddle's unique magic closed around Cater’s neck, marking the end of his young reign. Riddle's coronation was held later that evening and, of course, he chose Trey as his vice prefect.

Cater didn't even stay for the rest of the celebration, choosing to leave the dorm and walked down the main street. He stopped in front of the Queen of Heart statue.

Perhaps a lower one like him doesn't deserve the power and companions. Perhaps he's never destined to be the King of Heartslabyul until his third year. Perhaps Trey is never meant to be his faithful partner.

Perhaps longing for something that is impossible in the first place was his biggest mistake.

Even if we have to say our goodbyes, Even if we lose sight of our lives You'll always have me in your heart, I'll never part from your side If only I could stop you leaving If I could hold you right here with me, I'll make sure that all my secret sins- Everything my heart has hid, All the feelings deep within; Beating in my heart's the Truth, Amen.

[enjomo-arch]

@taiixuan : since you've mentioned ace's flames and the selective burning when it comes to helping someone out : how much is ace inclined to help others, or will he only do it when it benefits him, if at all ?  what makes him this way ? does it make him more or less open to truces and collaborations with others ? has it ever gotten him into trouble, or inconvenienced him ? 

( random hc questions. ) / unprompted

Ace never does anything to benefit him. If someone needs help, he will go and help the best he can and he doesn't wait for any payment, applauds or cheers for it. Ace even if this wasn't as visible in his youth was always the type of a person who'd give you the last drops of water even if his tongue is about to fall off. He'd give you the last bits of food even if it means starving for weeks. He doesn't care about his own safety, health and well being because he considers himself useless, not worth. It is professionally called the " Imposter syndrome ".

It is loosely defined as " doubting your abilities and feeling like a fraud. ". It obviously is connected to ace's low self worth after going through depression which is still, lingering on him till present because of the psychical abuse he experienced with people indirectly calling him a devil, monster and that he should be killed whenever he asked other adults about his biological father. You can imagine what a fucking hard burden it is for a child to hear that he should be killed on the spot for not being able to choose who his parent was.

This leading to an impact on Ace's self perception. He wants to deserve the feeling of being needed but he can't do it if he just sits around and does like, nothing. If someone tried to explain him it's very hard to actually get around a mindset of a person who's had an untreated depression for years and imposter syndrome along with dyslexia on top of that. He hardly wants to understand it by words he needs actions to make him feel like he deserved to be called a certain way. He wants to know if him being born was good and Garp told him that he needs to live to get the answer. Ace needs to live to deserve to know the purpose of his existence but he needs to naturally put effort in that.

In case of helping others out, he wants to help people, he wants to make people happy despite him not feeling exactly happy himself. Seeing a smile on someone's face, knowing this was his doing is way more rewarding than any treasure or money. He doesn't care about that kind of stuff, the feeling that he was useful enough to make someone happy is worth more than anything in the world for someone who think that is good for nothing. He will help because he perceives his own being as useless and if this somehow makes him useful for someone then, use him. He wants to feel something, anything to just not be a burden. It helps him too, y'know if someone accepts his help. It always comes from his heart and the fact that, he will never leave someone behind. Ace is always the person in front of someone, never running away. Only giving people the opportunity to run and live because if he runs, he'll leave people important to him behind.

When it comes to collaboration it depends on the source. If some other pirates want help from him but wronged him in the past, yes he will help if the requests won't put anyone who's important to him in danger ( eg. Straw hats, Whitebeard crew ) but, Ace forgives he never forgets. If the pirates were to deceive him by begging for help Ace will pull out very fucking harsh consequences. He's expressing kindness despite his own beliefs about some people but he's not a tool to use for someone to gain power over his actions. Ace is rational not blind.

If this got him in trouble? Definitely sometimes yes but Ace has his own beliefs and while there's awful pirates and criminals around, he would still give up his own food for them if they were starved. No matter how awful someone is, there's only one life, and everyone deserves to have one. He wants to know if he deserves to have one and other people probably found their answers for that question, so this is his mission to find it now. By living and letting others have their lives as well.

[living-d3ad-gh0ul]

Sunday 5th February 2023, 10:14am

I haven't been on here in a while. I haven't posted in a while either. But I just dreamt about the person who I come here to leave these messages for and it made me really miss them. So I decided to come here to post this.

The dream was nice. We were in a park just walking around and there was this big dog, I dont know what kind of dog. But it came over to us and kept jumping up on us and getting us covered in mucky pawprints. Neither of us cared though, we just kept laughing and giving the dog pats and letting it cover us in mud from its paws. You kept hugging me too and I told you to stop because you'd get dirt on you, but you didn't care about that either, you just wanted to hug me. That was really about it, I don't know if I've explained it well enough or if it even makes sense, but sometimes dreams don't make sense at all haha.

A lot has changed again. My old job ended on 6th January, but I had a new job secured anyway, so I wasn't as sad. It was the one I had the interview for on 4th January. They interviewed me that day and then called me not even 24 hours after to tell me I had the job. I started working there on Monday of this week and so far it's been alright. My neighbour gives me lifts to work every day and it's really good, even if its a bit of a walk from where we park to the city where the office is (because parking actually in the city is a nightmare and so fucking expensive!) Everyone I work with is super nice too, the company seem really good and not at all like any other company I've worked for before. I'm really excited to see where I can go with this job if I'm honest with you.

One of my really good friends surprised me with tickets to London Comicon in 4 weeks time too. Along with tickets to get my photo taken with my favourite actor in the whole world. They were not cheap at all and I sobbed for a good 30 minutes when they showed me the tickets. I just didn't feel like I deserved it, but they told me that I'd been working so hard and doing so well, so I definitely did. I'm still not sure if I believe them, but I'm absolutely not going to turn down meeting my favourite actor or going to spend some time in London. I'll still be going down there in August too to see Joji. I'm super excited about going to Comicon, but I'm also super nervous. What if I like.. freeze up in front of the actor? What if I say something really stupid and embarrass myself? What if I fall over my own foot? Because that's a very real possibility haha. I may end up just being really nervous and giggly and then I'll end up apologising for giggling hahaha. I've heard the actor is really really sweet in person and that they try to make everyone comfortable when they meet them. So that really does help and is reassuring. I've been super busy trying to plan all of that and book my flights to London, find accommodation etc (luckily my uncle is letting me stay with him, so that's one less thing to worry about. My best friend from Ireland is also coming too and it will be the first time me and her get to meet in person, I'm super super excited about that too)

I've been thinking about you a lot. I've been wondering how you're doing and how things are going for you. I really hope your health is alright and that you're getting better still. I still come and read your posts again every so often, just to feel close to you. I know I already said that I dreamt about you and that's what prompted this post, but I do dream about you every now and then. I like when I dream about you because it's almost as if we're visiting each other. That's something I really wish we could actually do. Even if it was only a short time together, I'd treasure it forever. I've been looking up at the moon every single night that I can too, and I've been telling her to say hello to you for me and that I miss you. Quite a bit actually.

I'm going to go now and get up out of bed. I really could do with a coffee and some fresh air, so I'm going to go make some and go sit on the deck out back with it, even if it's still winter and cold haha.

I really hope to hear from you soon, E. I really hope you're doing okay. I wish you could be sat out back with me and I could rest my head on your shoulder while we just... sit. I'm going to put some pictures of the cool bridge I walk across every day to and from work. It connects both sides of the river and it curves, it's really cool, I think you'd like it.

"I wake up in the morning or the middle of the night, I look at you and I know it's alright"

N x

[caparrucia]

Can I ask for Cor headcanons in the Sun is Out? Thanks!

So I'm about to break you and I refuse to apologize for it.

The thing you have to understand, is that Cor just wants to be loved. He hungers for it, like a starving man. And before Nyx, he's never been loved without an ulterior motive behind it.

Because here's the thing about Cor: he's very easy to love, because he's a fundamentally kind person. Cor is not cruel, nor does he abide or tolerate cruelty. When he sees something wrong, he will take it upon himself to right it, even if it is by no means his job to do it. He's loyal to a fault. If you give him even the smallest modicum of love, he will be yours, forever.

Cor loved Mors, because Mors saved his life and asked him what he wanted, and all Cor wanted was to be of use. To have a place. So Mors gave it to him, kept him at his side and made use of him. And Cor loved him for it. Desperately. Even if in trying to be good and earn that love, he was tearing himself to pieces, because he was fifteen years old, and Mors kept just pointing him at things he needed dead, and Cor kept killing them and coming back for praise and a kind word. Lucius was the first person to be truly kind to Cor, because the way Mors did things horrified him and he kept nagging, like a good conscience, he's fucking fifteen years old, Mors, you can't send him out alone to massacre your enemies. But they were at war and Cor was very good at massacring people. He didn't like it, but he was good at it. He's not like Lyra or Orpheus, who would kill indiscriminately out of a vague thought experiment. Lyra and Orpheus never really cared for people outside each other, because they were the only people and everyone else was cannon fodder. But not Cor. Cor was aware every person he killed was a person, and this is long before the MT Troopers are a thing and they're fighting robots. Cor killed by the thousands, hundreds of thousands, because Mors sent him out and told him to do it, and he loved Mors and wanted to ease his burden.

There was Aulea, of course, who gave out kindness with the calculated air of someone keeping tabs on it. Aulea was meanspirited and manipulative and selfish and so fucking angry at everything. But she would sew him back together, after every battle. He'd come back in pieces and she'd figure out how to put them back into place. She didn't have to, but she did, and Cor knew it and treasured it, and loved her desperately for it. Lived forever chasing after every tiny kindness he could get out of her, because her kindness was so very rare and so carefully doled out. And yeah, she used him. She used him to his face and let him know it and it was okay, because sometimes she'd shared her sweets and tell him a good joke.

Yes, the bar was that low.

And then he meets Regis, and Regis is... soft. Kind. Not at all the kind of person, like Mors, who can shoulder a war. And Cor immediately understands his place: he's supposed to do all these horrific things, kill all these people, endure all this suffering, to make sure Regis doesn't have to. Every battle he wins, it's a battle Regis won't have on his conscience. And he's okay with that. Because Mors loves his son, and through that, Cor loves Regis. Just a little. Just enough. And when the roadtrip happens and Cor is assigned to protect Regis, Cor is given orders to keep Regis safe, at any cost. If he had to, Cor would have sacrificed anyone else to keep Regis safe, because that was his job. Mors had entrusted him to safeguard one of the two people in the whole world that Mors ever really loved, and Cor wasn't about to fuck it up.

Regis should have died during the battle in Altissia. Regis would not have been mad, if he'd died there, along his mother. But Cor didn't let him. Cor didn't let him jump off the ship and into the ocean, when Regis realized Weskham was not coming along. Because it was Cor's job to keep him alive. But also because... because Regis treated him like a friend. The closest thing to a friend Cor had was Aulea, and he loved Aulea because she saw him for what he was and didn't think too much about it. Regis? Regis insisted he was better. Regis insisted he should be allowed to be a kid. To have fun. To be a person.

Cor loves him for that, would do anything for him, because of that. And he lets Regis use him as he sees fit. He lets Sylvia use him, in lieu of Regis, as she thinks it's best. He's turned into a monster, a national horror story, and he shoulders all the horrors of the war, all the terrible, unspeakable things that needed to be done. He takes credit for it. He lets people fear and hate him for it, because that means they're much more readily willing to love Regis. And Regis deserves to be loved, as far as Cor is concerned. Regis is good. This is just what Cor has always known: he's there to take the hits, so that Regis isn't harmed. He understands his place and he's okay with it, because Regis calls him friend and tries not to overstep, even though Cor would kill himself if Regis asked him to.

And then Aulea dies, but not before leaving behind her secrets and her terrible truths to Cor, well aware he will not share them with anyone, will not betray her, no matter how much time passes, because despite it all, Cor still loved her, when she died, and anything he could give her, he would, without question.

And at long last, there's Nyx. Who's sly and silly and snarky and terribly opinionated and not about to shut up about it. Who's loyal and honest and generally just good. Nyx, who figures out Cor's terrible curse - he's just so desperately in need of being loved, who just hungers for it with the inescapable weight of a starving man - and his immediate first reaction is to ask, who did this to you.

Do you wanna know how much Cor loves Nyx?

Nyx is the first person who's ever looked at him and saw someone worth protecting, not someone capable of being used as a protector. And this silly, twenty year old, legally dead human disaster, with a toddler hanging off his hip decided: fine, fuck it, I'll protect you, seeing how no one else has figured out how to do that.

And then he does.

For the rest of their lives.

One day, Cor will wake up and realize he is no longer loyal to Regis above all else, that his loyalty has been thoroughly compromised. He'll go tell Regis and confess his sins with the air of a terrible secret, and be utterly stuck on the fact Regis is happy about this, rather than upset.

But really, genuinely, could anyone who isn't Cor Idiot Extraordinaire Leonis not see that coming?

[booksbygrey]

“Greetings” part 2

a/n; reminder that is is a oc and not a y/n story! I wrote this back in January and totally forgot I wrote all of this. Ok enjoy!

Bang Bang

The banging stops and a few minutes later I hear a set of keys opening the door. And the only person who has access to a pair of keys that opens every door is Negan.

Panicking not having enough time to change because I honestly thought if I didn't open the door then they'll leave but I guess that's a no no in his eyes.

Wrapping the sheets around me trying to cover up every ounce of skin I have. Because I sure ass hell didn't put any clothes on to go to sleep in my room.

He slams the door wide open, smirking at me as if there's no tomorrow "hey doll" he swings his bat and walking towards me. Sets Lucille in one of the chairs, as if she's the most valuable treasure in the whole wide world. Receiving an eye roll from me. 

"What do you want I spit out" he comes and sits next to me. Roaming around at the junk I have in my nightstand. He picks up something from my nightstand not sure what but something. "who is he?" He says in a more pissed off tone.

"Who?" I ask

Facing the card in my face, taking it away from his grasps because he's talking about Shane. Fuck this is why I hate having people over and interfering on shit that doesn't concern them.

"Him who's he? Didn't you say you were alone all this time?" The saviors don't know my life before the apocalypse or during the beginning of it all. Keeping everything to myself is beneficial to me and to them because their just a bunch of strangers.

I fell in love with Shane before life went to shit and we were inseparable in the beginning. Being with mom and dad at the campsite then we left the group for personal reasons. Dad didn't approve as much as I tried to tell him it was consensual he didn't care, so me and Shane left. Started our own life on the road, doing much to survive on our own. We bumped into a group along the way but it didn't last long until we were left off on our own again. After the group had a massive fail Shane wanted to find dad and his group, but along the way Shane didn't make it. So I stopped looking for dad and found the saviors.

Looking at the covers not trying to meet his gaze "everyone had someone, it's bullshit if they say they were alone in the beginning" not trying to really dwell on the topic since it's been awhile since anyone really has asked about Shane, it's not like they know who he is. "You had someone too that's why your bat is named Lucille right? Because once upon a time the big bad Negan cared for someone"

He blinks at me slowly not sure what's his next move is or if he's going to deny it. Deny that he once cared for someone, those wives he has right now are just pleasure for him nothing serious because he once gave a fuck about someone.

"Now that's deep sunshine, I'll give it to you your one smart ass. Observing me and shit who would've thought you gave a crap about me" no I don't give a crap about him I'm just observant, it gets boring having no one to talk to. Especially since I'm known as a bitch with cold feelings, it really set's the image. So I observe anything that moves if I'm being honest.

Standing up with the covers on since this conversation is irrelevant to me. I'm sure he's just infatuated with me because I don't pay attention to him or care about his rules. I'm not one of his many dumb wives, that take the easy way out and please this man for a roof and food.

Standing in front of him, grabbing his chin with my other hand that isn't holding on the cover. He immediately widens his legs and grabs my waist.

"Get the fuck out of my place I'm not the variety of your wives so you can't be unlocking my place like it belongs to you" ticking one of my fingers along his chin like a ticking time bomb about to explode "you don't own me I don't sit here and wait for you to fuck me so you can reward me with a piece of food" removing my hand away from his chin about to leave to wash up but he's still grabbing on my waist as if he's done this more than once. A deep boyish smirk comes across his face as if proud of the words I've just said to him discarding him as if he doesn't mean a thing.

  He wraps his other arm around me grabbing both of my ass cheeks "damn I've always wanted to do that" he says excitedly. The shock radiating off me but it doesn't stop him from his rant "behave Jade because next time you discard me as if I don't mean shit I'll pound the shit out of you and luckily for you I don't have to break you in anymore because it seems like someone did it for me" he releases me from his hold. Standing up from his feet and walking away, leaving me their shocking.

"We're leaving to Alexandria in 30 minutes be there outside and you're riding with me sunshine" he says closing the door.

[abominationvault]

Session 2: Sat 1 Jul 2023

"... Everyone who grows up in Otari has a healthy mix of fear, respect, and curiosity for the old ruins out in Fogfen and the strange lighthouse that stands at the swamp’s heart…"

We decide we need a treasurer. How about Augustus? He could swallow the coins. He will jangle as he walks though… We rethink. Perhaps not the rogue...? We press-gang Hartvig into it; after all, he’s already carrying the weight of the world. It’s decided.

Skabb uses her healer’s kit, and we move on. Stealthily.

The next doors crumble away as Joto and Hartvig touch them. On the other side is a rickety wooden drawbridge. It leads to the lighthouse proper. Joto takes a look at the water rushing below the drawbridge; he doesn’t see much, but he does notice that the bridge has been sabotaged, probably by the mitflits. We can likely still safely cross, but only if we go one at a time.

Joto ties a rope to Grabby Cat and throws some treats across the drawbridge; it actually works! She looks around for something to tie the rope to. There are some bits of drawbridge mechanism; she ties her best knot around the sturdiest looking bit. Sprocket toddles over, unmanifests Augustus and remanifests him on the other side. He is very strong, so between him and the raccoon the rope should be safe.

Skabb, untrusting of Joto’s assessment of the bridge, takes a look herself; satisfied, she legs it over and makes it safely.

Luna ‘confidently pussyfoots’ across; she makes it safely but there is no room on the other side, so the bridge is currently supporting the weight of one person. Skabb tests the door; it is sturdy. Is it locked? She hears little voices on the other side, but they are a little way away. Something seems to be happening in there. She cautiously checks the door - it is not locked. She opens it quietly, as Luna and Nadia ready shots.

Skabb sees piles of rotting timber and loose stones; moss and vines decorate the walls. Doors on all sides. Debris blocking a staircase, and a large hole in the ceiling above. Signs of fire damage from an ancient battle. Powerful destruction magic was used here. Also, more mitflits! Skabb sees one that looks like it’s cheering, or egging something on. If we sneak in and use the debris as cover, we can probably avoid being spotted.

Sprocket scooches into the room less than stealthily, but as he’s very small and the mitflits are distracted, he doesn’t attract their attention. Luna moves forward off the bridge. Joto sneaks over, then Hartvig - he gets about halfway over and the bridge collapses beneath him with a crash. He makes a Reflex save. 13, enough for him to grab the embankment by his fingers. Joto makes a Dex check to cross back over using the rope to help him, but is attacked by something called an Elite Slurk! He is covered in revolting slime.

He is now Clumsy One, minus five penalty to his speed for one hour or until he takes some time to clean it. He drops from the rope into the water, which sadly doesn’t help clean off the slime. He and Hartvig see the slurk in the water.

Luckily the commotion has not alerted the mitflits, but now we have a Slurk to deal with. Initiative! Nadia throws her dagger and misses, losing it. Well, fuck. She sees the body of a scaly looking humanoid, further east along the bank. She and Joto make Nature checks but don’t find anything out. Hartvig sees a vine across the way that looks out of place; he thinks this is how the mitflits have been getting around without disturbing the slug.

“Well, if we’d spotted that earlier that might have been tremendously helpful.”

He pulls himself back up onto the edge and throws a spell at the slurk. He coughs up a torrent of grey soil; lovely. The slurk makes its save and takes no damage.

Joto sloshes his way over and does a claw attack. “I’m here for high adventure, not slime.”

Nadia hisses at the others who have already gone into the room with the mitflits to come and help, then wades into the mud to flank the slurk with Joto. She punches and headbutts it, but misses with both attacks. She gets a hero point for audacity, though.

Luna is the quickest on the draw, and creeps back out to help, using all her movement. Skabb wants to shoot Tanglefoot through an arrow slot, but her vine wouldn’t be able to target it. She does Electric Arc instead.

Augustus lifts Sprocket up to the arrow slot so he can fling a spell through it. He’s Tiny, so he can go through the gap, if he wants. He casts Spout under the slurk. It fails the save and takes five internal bludgeoning damage, right in the ass.

Hartvig moves so he can see the slurk and “visits upon the beast a flame which I will now produce… Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Joto makes an attack, hoping it will die before he does. It’s time for the scimitar. “Did I… Did I kill it?” No, he missed. 19 hits though, for 7 damage.

The slurk tusks Joto, removing the last of his HP. It then gobs some slime at Hartvig, who is now Clumsy One. It tusks at Nadia, leaving her at 1HP. She tries to pull Joto out of the water but fails her Strength check.

Luna shoots the slurk from her hidden position, but misses.

Hartvig casts Heal on Joto for 14 HP! Nice! He is now Wounded 1, and wakes automatically as he is in water. He immediately stands up and attacks, but misses even with a 17+1 from Guidance. He grappling hooks his ass out of there, taking Grabby Cat with him.

The slurk tusks Nadia, taking her out. She uses her Hero Point to wake up with one HP. She punches, misses, looks for her dagger, can’t find it.

Luna shoots twice, misses, and hides.

We are all pretty fed up with this thing, which we can’t seem to hit and which seems to be hitting us just fine. Let’s get out of Dodge. Grabby Cat throws Nadia a rope; Joto will take the other end on his turn and help pull her out of the muck. (He earns himself some Panache for his actions.) Sprocket shoots another jet of water up the slurk’s ass. Augustus throws a fist at it but misses.

Grabby Cat steals Joto’s soap, leaps onto the back of the slurk and starts rubbing it into its skin, earning herself a Hero Point. The slurk looks - not ropey, but soapy.

Augustus gets the how-de-do-dis, yay! He does a double fist slam on it, and it bursts. Yuck.

Joe leaves us in Initiative order, but we are out of combat. Most of us would have seen the body on the bank from earlier; it is a kobold. Skabb and Nadia know that kobolds often ride slurks, and keep them as pets… Grabby Cat and Augustus will splash on over and have a look at the body.

Augustus finds a pouch with 4gp, and a little backpack on the kobold’s body, containing a dry and well-preserved spiked snare trap. Grabby Cat finds an amulet with a strange kobold rune. It doesn’t appear magical, but it might be worth keeping. She ties it around her neck.

We’ll take some time to regroup next week and try once more to cross this bridge. Maybe next time we’ll manage it without a near-TPK!

[t-eenagedisasters]

Sundays.

It’s Sunday again. 

 Every Sunday is hard. The aura of nothingness brings me straight back to that day, that same morning. So peaceful, quiet, eerie. 

 Why. 

 It rings through my head like a school bell, every half hour. Why did this happen. 

 It feels like I have stared at this same view for eternity. Looking down along the bay at the big boats in their natural positions. I could almost describe them all from memory, burnt into the back of my retinas like the sun that blares through the windows onto the wood stained frames each morning. It used to be so nice sitting here with you. 

 Sundays bring with them a breath of freshness for the coming week, you can grab it by the horns and wrangle a productive, healthy, wholesome week if you do it right. For me on the other hand, it’s a time capsule I feel stuck in. A big ol deep rut. I sit here with myself and my thoughts, circling round and round and round in my head, with no end in sight. The numbness takes over - I should get up, go out and do something, I think to myself; but the thought that follows tells me it’s too hard, don’t bother, just stay here.  

 Sundays are a time of reflection, with a whole 24 hours to think and contemplate either your previous week or your goals for coming week. Most people treasure their final moments of freedom, using every last second to basque in all of Sundays glory. Not in my rut though. Trapped inside my mind in physical form. I freeze, unable to make a single decision. Should I go to the shops to buy some food to make? Proving too hard, I think about ordering Uber eats, but then decide not to either leaving me once again stuck, but hungry and stuck. 

 Why do I feel this way? What way do I even feel? I try to explain myself but each time it comes across as though it’s one particular thing that’s playing on my mind. To describe it in words feels to downplay it. I imagine a small figure standing in front of a huge tsunami wave, frantically trying to get away, huffing and puffing and unable to think straight or move. That’s how I feel. Overwhelmed with no control. 

 I’m being torn a million different ways in my mind. 

 The fact you’re gone, the fact you will never get to experience so much when that’s all you wanted to do. Mortality is in my every thought these days. Not my own, but everything around me. I’m scared. I think everyone I love is just going to disappear into thin air, without warning. Each chest pain, each nerve twinge, each time I struggle to take a deep breath i think this is it. 

 I look at my parents and instead of being happy and enjoying our time together, i look at them and imagine them at 95 on their death bed and how lost I will be without them. Of course that’s not supposed to be anytime soon, but who fucking knows, right? 

 I hate when people tell me that they’re here for me to talk ‘if you ever want to, I’m here for you’. No you’re not. Even if you are, you can’t help. Nothing helps. 

 I cry in private most days, as though it feels I should be ashamed of my grief. They say there is no spectrum of grief, well my psychologist does anyway, with each persons grief and healing as justified as the next. It doesn’t feel that way though, I feel like I’m not allowed to feel anymore, that my timeline has been mapped out for me and I have surpassed the expiration date. 

 If anything, the emotions I’m feeling lately are amplified. 

Everything is amplified now. My feelings, my reactions, my thoughts. Everything that was simple now seems so confusing. I feel like a burden

 I lay in bed every morning expecting to hear your door open, but it doesn’t. 

 How does this feeling stop? Do I want it to? Each second I feel the sorrow drifting away I feel guilty for letting it go, almost as if it feels like it’s taking a piece of you with it. I won’t let it take you. 

 Nobody tells you how lonely healing is. How confusing it is. Trying to unravel the tangled mess that is your mind. 

I used to be so sure of the world and my place in it, I feel as though I have reverted back to a child, so clueless and confused. Everything was black and white, now everything is a weird hue of grey and brown, like an old film. The silence is deafening. 

[topknotstrunk]

Review Everything 17 - Fairy Tale by Stephen King

Review Contains Spoilers:

This is my favorite author, writing in my favorite genre, fantasy. And up until Charlie descends into the well it had the potential to be one of my favorite books by Stephen King. Stranger in a strange land is my absolute favorite trope of all time. And then it turned into a weak pastiche of classic fairy stories and homage to cosmic horror. Which is very weird because King is good at both fairy stories [Dark Tower, Duma Key, and Lisey's Story] and cosmic horror [It, the Langoliers, and Ur] when he is writing his own stories. It's not like none of what he's written before this has lacked references to other works. Hell, Dark Tower is a retelling of the King Author myth, and has references to many things within it, strongest of which in my mind are The Wizard of Oz, the great American cowboy myth, Harry Potter, and Shardik. The difference, I think, between those and Fairy Tale is that I can buy into the internal logic of books like those of the Dark Tower series, or Boo'ya Moon. It all fits. With Fairy Tale I could feel two very strong and very opposing elements tugging me in two directions the entire time I read the book. The first direction of "I have no idea whats going to happen next" element of King's writing I so treasure. Rarely are his stories predicable, but when you do encounter a zag the place it takes you makes you think "of course, makes sense". It's one of King's greatest talents, that he can toss the most buck wild story elements at you over the course of a book and no matter how unexpected the element was it fits in with the rest of the book, and is often the only thing that could happen that does make sense. The second was "I know how fairy tales work and I know exactly what's happening next". And, once in Empis and beyond the gates of the city, the former shrunk to almost nothing and the latter had me guessing the entire back third of the book without many misses. I think a lot of fantasy readers get lost in the sauce of world building and think that because a world is explained to be well constructed in a novel that means that it is. I like a book with strong internal logic, especially a fantasy one. I don't want the characters to sit down and have a conversation about the politics of the last two hundred years, the laws of the land, and how the Magic system works, but I do want characters to act a certain way because of the politics. I want someone to find what the law of the land is by breaking it, getting punished, or getting off with a warning. I want to know how the Magic system works as the Magic user learns it, with all the mistakes and triumphs along the way. I want that internal logic, that feeling that through the novel doesn't contain a dissertation on what the world building is that the author knows everything important about the world they built. I got that from The Dark Tower, that there were things the characters didn't know, but that King did. I got that from Lisey's Story, from 11/22/63, from every other book of his I've read. With Fairy Tale though? Absolutely not. It felt like the book was being made up as it went along, like the rules for Magic [or maybe not, it's never really confirmed if that's a thing in Empis or not] were whatever the plot needed them to be. Why does The Snab have the ability to psychically speak to most creatures, including Humans, but never told Peterkins to fuck off? Who made the sundial? Is there more than one mermaid? Was she a person, who agreed to come and live where she did, or was she a fish in a tank who didn't know any better? Why are there no dogs in Empis, if there are wolfies? What the fuck are The Night Guards? They share no thematic similarities Gogmagog so where did their abilities come from? Are they electrical in nature because Adrien introduced electricity to Empis? Don't dictate the rules to me, but do put them naturally into the story! It's so frustrating having Charlie say "well I didn't know so neither did you" and have it left at that. Part of this problem is due to pacing. Until Charlie goes to Empis the book is striding along at normal book pace, then then it hurdles from well dissension to dungeon time, and then crawls through dungeon time, and then limps along over the finish line. If we'd had more of Charlie preparing, more time to spend in and develop this world, then the time spent in Deep Malleen would have felt like less of a slog. I get that part of the homage to other fantasy stories is that there was a tight deadline that Charlie was working on, but just make it less tight. Show me more of Empis and its people. Make me care about more than Charlie, Radar, and Leah. The reason I didn't like the book, ultimately, is that it comes down to what King was trying to accomplish. It reads like he wanted a fantasy book in the vein of Hans Christian Andersen with H.P. Lovecraft cosmic horror elements, instead of a Stephen King fantasy story with Stephen King cosmic horror elements. I come to King's books for King's writing. Unfortunately, he got what it seems he wanted, and Fairy Tale just doesn't read like a Stephen King book, at least to me. [Goodreads specific closing.] Before Charlie went down the well I would have given the book a 5 star rating. For everything that happens after the sundial, I would have given it a 2. By the end of the book it middles out to a 3. If Good Reads would let me grade this on a 10 point scale Fairy Tale would get a 5, as a perfectly average book. Too bad King is not usually a perfectly average writer, and Fairy Tale slides down to the very bottom in the ranking of all of his stories I've read. This Constant Reader is very interested to see where their favorite author goes from here.

In Summary: An average novel from a writer who normally makes books that are far from average, somehow using my favorite trope and my two favorite genres to make a book that was merely fine.

Overall: 5/10