#Prison escape narrative

[latest-info]

The Lantern of Kaamos

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Encounter The bustling streets of Los Angeles hummed with life as Jonna, a spirited adventurer with a penchant for unraveling mysteries, stood at the edge of the bustling pier. The salty breeze tousled her auburn hair as she gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean, her heart filled with a sense of anticipation. It was there, amidst the chaotic beauty of the city,…

[duckapus]

So this one might be a little too meta but...

The Hacker Arc. One of the Viewers noticed that the "Yiga Clan takes over Glitch Productions" segments of the IRL Arc were a little too well animated and acted, and realizes that the SMG4 characters, and possibly all characters, really are alive. They try for months to make the rest of the world see the truth, but without any tangible evidence they're written off as a crazy conspiracy theorist. So, desperate for proof, they hack into Luke's computer to "borrow" one of his characters.

They end up getting Tari, and put her into a copy of The Stanley Parable to wait for an interested party who are pretty much the only ones who've heard them out, and were the ones to provide them with the resources to codenap Tari in the first place. Unfortunately for both of them, said party is a shady organization who already knows about digital beings, and is far more interested in researching a live specimen for their own ends than revealing anything to anyone.

Meanwhile, everyone back in the Mushroom Kingdom and Glitch Productions is freaking out and desperately trying to figure out where Tari is and how to reach her.

[quietwingsinthesky]

even has killed people—though perhaps that depends on your definition of people—and it’s not. how do i put it. it’s never cool, you know? it’s never a moment where this puts them in control of a situation, where they can show off some skill in putting someone down. because even is not, generally, very powerful, and they do not know how to do this.

it just gets messy.

which is one of those terrible reasons why they… well, they don’t like the master, but they have to like that she can do it easy, quick, clean. she can give even the ability to, as well, when she wants. if for no other reason than it means that they won’t have to scrub it raw off their skin later, they appreciate that.

[welcometogrouchland]

I love treating TV like an endurance test. How many episodes of this show can I watch before I physically go mad

[camcorderrevival]

hi! i was reading your post about amy and gardens and i started to think about how river seems to be associated with forests instead: her first episode is silence in the library/forest of the dead, when she comes back for the first time in s5 there's that oxygen farm (i think that's what it was it was, i'm not sure) which looks like a forest, her name got translated to river song from the language of the forest... i don't know where i'm going with this exactly and it might make no sense at all, but yeah. i hope you don't mind me sending you this!

You're so right!!!

This bit from The Meaning of Gardens sort of defines this idea best for me:

 The idea that woods/forests are a more free-flowing entity than a garden really reflects Amy and River’s characters. It’s similar to the Pond/River split. One is a confined body, the other is allowed to move freely.

 They don’t get enough exploration as characters for me to draw really strong conclusions. But, as it is, they serve as inverses of each other.

 River, with her name and her forest symbolism, is forced away from a domestic, “normal” life and pushed into one of danger. From there, she breaks out, she makes decisions that benefit her, she’s selfish in a really refreshing way and it’s one of the things that I won’t forsake Moffat for.

 Amy, named Pond, associated with gardens, faces the opposite. She chases a more dangerous lifestyle + starts off by making decisions to benefit herself (running away on her wedding night). But by the end, she’s forced into domesticity. Any opportunity to be selfish is stripped from her completely, and she ends up in 50′s New York.

 I think what sums up this sort of opposing concepts between the two of them is the line “look after him”.  It’s delivered once by 11, to Amy, in The God Complex, and she ends up fulfilling that request. However much she is shown to dislike a domestic, “real” lifestyle, she still follows Rory back to the 50′s. She does what she’s told to.  The next utterance of that line comes in The Angels Take Manhattan, where Amy tells River what 11 told her. “Look after him.” AND RIVER DOESN’T!!! She sticks around for a bit and makes sure the Dr is ok but she doesn’t stay, she doesn’t sacrifice her life to keep 11 happy.

 Amy’s story is, unfortunately, one that ends with her submitting to what people (including the writers) expect of her and forgoing what her character is written to want. Whereas River, while her narrative is still full of misogyny, tends to end up choosing herself.

[superkitten-poison]

its been a while. did i ever speak my truth. i think i'm one of the few tntduoers that liked cwilburs finale and not cquackity's. do you still think im hot

[yoisara]

i liked the inazuma archon quest when i first played thru it (particularly meeting a certain miss kujou sara in the prison w yoi :P & the finale was rlly cool too from signora to kazuha’s arrival) so when i saw everyone mad abt the writing i thought they were just being overly harsh but 😭 after starting the ei story quest ... inazuma was seriously soooo disappointing in the end and it all comes down to ei. i think she would have been SO MACH better if she was actively malicious, if she knew what she was doing was cruel, if she was choosing to hurt people in her pursuit of eternity, but ei is brainless & completely devoid of intent. instead of acknowledging that she was hurting her nation, HER PEOPLE, though out of conviction that what she was doing was right, even necessary, instead of that shes like oh the storm is worsening? i didnt know about that oh the fatui are pulling the strings in inazuma and have infiltrated my most trusted commission? i had no idea oh they sell dango milk on the street? no way oh light novels exist? i didnt know LIKE SHE IS COMPLETELY UNAWARE OF ANYTHING THAT GOES ON its horribly annoying and the most frustrating thing is that this is their way of absolving her of guilt completely. oh it wasnt ei at all ^____^ it was bc of the fatui. ei just wants to reach eternity through peaceful means ^____^ like literally i hope whoever came up w that dies tragically. i really cant get over how the narrative itself refuses to hold her accountable, how it’s so determined to coddle her and make her cute and nice and eat sweets on the streets. GOD

[scoobydoodean]

The thing is that when Cas first laid a hand on Dean in hell he was lost, and not actually because "For the first time, I feel". Cas had felt before he knew Dean. We know this because we know Cas had rebelled before. Naomi tells us Cas never did as he was told—that Cas had a "Crack in the chassis straight off the line" (something Chuck later echoes in a rage).

Cas's rebellion is far older than Dean and that rebellion is a function of what he feels. Cas just doesn't get to remember feeling. Each time he does, he's stripped of the memory of it... but subconsciously he starts to understand it as something he must keep secret.

Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?

Cas is in love with humanity, and we conflate this with Dean because Dean is the narrative heart, and the subject of Cas's greatest love, and because the concept of humanity and Dean are so deeply linked they're almost one in the same. We are not at all wrong to conflate the two, but make no mistake—Cas is in love humanity.

You misunderstand me, Dean, I’m not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town.

Cas calls humanity a work of art, and the camera pans to Dean sitting on the bench beside him. Dean represents humanity. Not just as precious works of art, but also because humans get to feel. Humans don't get lobotomized for feeling. Dean encourages Cas to feel. He encourages Cas to feel by asking him to—begging him to, and by feeling for others, and by existing and deserving to be loved himself.

Dean echoes free will to Cas like a call from the wild. He's the beauty of humanity. He's the liberation and beautiful terror of choice. The reason "You always have a choice" and "There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it" works is because Cas already feels, already hopes, already loves.

You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this, before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me -- now. Please.

The function by which Dean gets through to Cas is through Cas's own feelings and convictions. He gets through because Cas is "not a hammer, as you say". Cas has questions. Cas has doubts.

Cas is in love with humanity, and every time he remembers it, he gets packed off to Bible Camp and he forgets. But he can remember again. What it takes is a push. What it takes is a hand reached out in the darkness. The day Cas rescued Dean from hell, two people were saved. A hand clawed out toward Cas too, breaking through his own torturous prison and offering him escape. For the first time in a long time, he felt.

Dean's importance is that he touches Cas. He makes Cas remember. And he keeps making Cas remember. Through touch, through words, through the expression of his own affection for Cas and for others. Because Dean cares, Cas cares.

[jellys-compendium]

Lovebug

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Sinister!Vash x f!Reader Word Count: 7.9K Summary: You've been running for a long time, miraculously evading the destructive storm on your heels. But one fateful night you find yourself trapped and unable to escape the humanoid typhoon any longer. He'll make you regret running from him. Cw: blood, gun violence, side character death, noncon to dubcon, predator/prey dynamics, smut, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, rough sex, p in v sex, gunplay, choking, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), cumming inside, dacryphilia, yandere, obsessive/possessive behaviour, manipulation, mind breaking, pet names, degradation & praise.

A/n: This is a dark fic. Read the content warnings before proceeding. If this sort of writing isn't your thing, please don't read! I will have a softer fic for Vash coming in the near future. Also, just a quick note that for narrative purposes , I decided to interpret Sinister!Vash as Vash turning evil (not as a separate entity).

The sharp scent of rust lingers in your nose. It couples with the muted dusty air and further serves to dry out your parched throat. Each time you swallow in an attempt to alleviate your thirst, it feels like sandpaper scrapes along your esophagus. Money be damned, you would trade every last double dollar you own for a glass of water right now.

Unfortunately for you, not a single one of the sheriff’s men had come to check up on your sorry state since you’d been caught, cuffed, and thrown into this dingy cell hours ago. They’d locked you in here and thrown away the key as it were. Guess you shouldn’t be surprised, given the bounty on your head.

Heaving a sigh, you lean back against the cold concrete wall of your prison, your movement causing the tattered and smelly cot supporting you to creak and groan. With little else to do, your mind wanders to the earlier events of the day.

How did you get yourself into this mess? 

You’d been so painstakingly careful to keep your head down and profile low in every town you had passed by for the last year. Not a single soul, let alone law enforcement, had ever suspected that you were the former partner of the legendary humanoid typhoon. So how is it that the sheriff of this backwater little town had you figured out the moment you’d set foot in his jurisdiction?

With a metaphorical fine toothed comb, your mind analyzes each and every interaction you’ve had since the morning, searching for clues on how you’d been discovered—but nothing clicks into place. You hadn’t spoken a whisper about your true identity, or about Vash, to anybody since you’d quit and run from his company of outlaws.

On top of that you were careful to cover your tracks, doing everything in your power to erase all that you were before disappearing into the night in a hail mary attempt at a better life—one that wasn’t tainted with lies and blood. 

A gnawing sorrow aches in your chest at the thought of your former lover, and you can’t help but reach up and rub over that hollow space under your breastbone. Deep down you still love Vash more than anyone else but…you will have no part in his cruelty.

You don’t know when it started, but Vash had changed into a person you no longer recognize. Gone was the kind gunman clad in red with a broken smile, and in his place emerged another person entirely. He was vicious, manipulative, and cruel. Taking lives without regard in order to get what he wanted. Within the span of a few months, Vash had truly transformed into the monster that the people of this planet fear him to be—and that had completely and irrevocably broken your heart.

For months you had feared that Vash would pick up on your trail and track you down in retaliation for your abandoning of his little group. But as the weeks stretched on, the suns rising and falling with each passing day, your nerves settled and you surmised that Vash must have had better things to do rather than chase you down.

‘He must have found someone else to warm his bed by now.’

The intrusive thought clings to your mind incessantly, and you desperately attempt to force it away with a shake of your head. No. You’d left that life behind, you’ve left him behind for a reason . 

Vash would have devoured you—consumed you whole and then spit out your bones if you hadn’t left when you did. The way Vash makes you feel is beyond anything you had ever experienced before. He’s intoxicating, addicting, seductive—a devil that beguiles you with sweet whispers in one ear, while holding the barrel of a gun against the other. 

For a time, you had lost yourself in his coils—exchanging your humanity for a burning desire that had scorched your body and soul. But before the humanoid typhoon could corrupt you completely, you escaped.

And…you ran.

And ran,

And ran.

Until that murderous, crimson eyed shadow that followed each of your footsteps surrendered to the sunshine above, and disappeared amidst the blistering sands of No Man’s Land. You were finally free, and although there is a dark and secret part of you that still longs for Vash, you know that you did the right thing.

Abruptly, a distant rumble captures your ear. Perking up, your gaze is led from the dark shadows in the corner of your cell towards the distant door leading out of the jailhouse’s cell room. Your body stills as the roaring commotion gets louder, your muscles sit taut as you listen and try to decipher the noises coming from beyond the bars.

You hear footsteps, shouts and— gunfire .

Gunfire, then screams.

Adrenaline kicks into high gear and you immediately get up from the stained cot, racing towards the door of your cell. Your cuffed hands grasp the cold bars of your prison as more blood curdling screams fill the air. Was it a robbery? Bandits? Or could it really be?

The monstrous possibility of what awaits just beyond that door sends you into a panic. Panting frantically, you use your entire body weight to rattle the bars in a foolhardy attempt to wiggle the cell door free. But of course, the iron door does not budge.

‘No.’ You ram your shoulder against the door.

‘No!’

Your arm screams out in pain as you use your entire body weight this time.

‘This can’t be happening! It can’t be him!’

“Sheriff!! Sheriff!!” You shout desperately. “Let me out! Let me out!”

The terrible thundering of gunshots and panicked commotion intensifies. Pounding footsteps race down the hallway and shake the floorboards just beyond the prison cell door. You shudder when you hear the terrified screams from the men warbling through the wood and concrete, sharp and horrifying but then—silence.

Oh god. They’re all…

Blood pulses in your ears, making you feel faint as the song of more bullets sings through the air. Even from your iron cage, you can tell the shots are precise—every single one effectively ending the lives of the Sheriff's men one by one. Within mere moments, the once lively jailhouse had become as silent as a graveyard. The only sounds you hear now are a single pair of creaking footsteps and…a song.

“Total slaughter~

Total slaughter

I won’t leave a single man alive…”

Oh god—it is him . 

Releasing the bars of your cell door, you frantically begin to look around the dim lit space. A bucket and the cot are all you have to work with. Shit.

The footsteps come closer.

“...La dee da dee die

Genocide~

La dee da dee dud

An ocean of blood…”

You detect a sound of heavy shuffling just outside and you look on, terrified , as the door leading to the jail’s cells creaks open. You freeze, legs nearly giving out from fear, but…it isn’t Vash.

Instead, into the room crawls a man—a man that you recognize as the Sheriff's deputy. He’s breathing hard, petrified little whimpers escaping his lips with each exhale. 

Trapped as you are you can do nothing but watch, wide eyed and horrified, as the man crawls into the room on all fours. His brown vest, white shirt, and slacks are covered with blood. More of it drips from his disheveled hair, leaving a gruesome trail of dark red as he shakingly makes his way across the floorboards and towards your cell. 

The deputy’s face is pale white and pouring sweat as he looks up at you…except he isn’t looking up at you. It almost looks like he’s looking through you.

“M–m–monster…h–he’s a monster.” The man whimpers, his red teeth chattering like tin cans in the wind. Trembling, the deputy reaches towards your cell door with a bloodied hand and his eyes finally lock with yours.

“H—help me.”

The sight of this man near death immobilizes you with terror, but as the man’s fingers wrap around one of the bars of your cell, the urgency in your gut magnifies, overwhelming the piercing fear inside of you. You have to try and save him. You have to.

Moving quickly, you squat down, reaching for the deputy’s hand, you grasp it tightly with yours.

“Give me the keys. Help me open the door so I can get us out of here.”

But the man doesn’t move. Instead he mutters and weeps, his voice strained and high with each incoherent syllable he babbles.

Frustrated and frantic, you bang your hand against the bars, hoping that the jolt will startle the deputy to his senses. 

“Hey! Are you listening?! Give me the keys or he’s going to—”

A piercing gunshot rings through the air and you leap up with a shout as the air rushes out of the deputy’s lungs. The deputy’s eyes turn dull, and you cry out in horror as his body jerks and then falls still at your feet.

He’s…he’s…

“Let’s begin…

The killing time” 

It takes all the courage you have left to lift your gaze and follow the blood stains left by the deputy. Eventually, your eyes land on a black pair of leather boots. Moving upwards, your sight lingers along the familiar dark blue coat tails—their ripped and tattered ends doused with fresh blood. Your attention moves up that infamous coat and finally lands on the face of the humanoid typhoon himself.

Vash the Stampede.

The outlaw’s crimson eyes stare directly into your own, shackling you in place more effectively than the metal cuffs around your wrists ever could. His eyes are intense as they focus on you, possessive and all consuming. It was only a matter of time before he found you, and you were an idiot to think that you could evade him forever.

As if agreeing with that very thought, a sly grin spreads across Vash’s handsome face. Like a ravenous wildcat who had finally caught his prey, the humanoid typhoon exhales a breath of relief and holsters his gun. 

“There you are.”

Vash approaches your cell and all you can do is silently watch as he bends down and yanks the ring of keys off of the deputy’s belt. Vash is methodical as always. Moving like a serpent in water, he never wastes a single movement. Each and every action of his is calculated and designed to lead him towards his ultimate goal.

And tonight, his goal is you.

Vash never takes his eyes off you as he slips the key into its slot with a poignant click. Then with a flick of his wrist the door unlocks, and Vash swings it wide open.

Your body’s response is immediate. Trembling, you retreat blindingly backwards until your body hits the concrete wall of your cell. Vash tsks, following your movements with inhumanly long strides of his own. It only takes a second for him to catch up with you—his body towering over yours once he closes that distance you were so desperate to create.

You jolt as Vash’s hands reach up and grasp your own, leather clad fingers lacing around your trembling digits as he lifts your cuffed wrists to his face. He leans down, and brushes his lips along the cold flesh of your palm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. 

“Oh my poor little lovebug.” Vash sensually coos, his deceivingly soft and gentle voice echoing along the iron bars. “What have they done to you?”

Gods, you should be repulsed and terrified, but instead of turning your blood to ice, Vash’s touch causes your entire body to instantly be consumed by a sweet and agonizing flame. The cinders that linger in your heart reignite and burn tenfold at the touch of the man that you love so dearly.

“Lovebug.” 

Like a siren, Vash’s hypnotizing whisper lulls away your fear—enchanting you.

“So frightened. You’re shaking like a newborn kitten. Come here, let me hold you.”

As if the choice were yours, Vash pulls your body flush against his. You gasp as the familiar sensation of his strong arms wraps around you and overpowers your resolve. His warm scent, the feeling of his lips as he so tenderly kisses your cheek, the weight of his hands as they glide up and down your back in a soothing motion. All of it brings tears of turmoil to your eyes.

No…this can’t happen again.

“I’m sorry, lovebug. If I had known they would treat you like this I would have come for you sooner.”

Come for you? As in, Vash knew where you’d been this entire time?

Your mind reels at the realization. You had never escaped Vash’s shadow. Instead it had grown so large and widespread that you’d failed to notice it all around you. 

The people who let you on your way and turned a blind eye to your identity, those kind souls who had given you food to eat and a bed to sleep in when you were weary, even the men of this town who had arrested you as an accomplice of the humanoid typhoon. Every single one of them had been an instrument of Vash’s own design.

Vash places a final kiss upon your cheek. Pulling back, he smiles at your dumbfounded expression.

“Let’s get you out of these cuffs.”

Vash lets your hands fall, his fingers flicking through the keyring until he finds the one he is looking for. How Vash knows exactly which key to use, you are not sure, but it’s no surprise when he selects one and slips it into the cuff’s lock. He frees you immediately with a twist of his hand.

The metal cuffs fall to the floor with a resounding thud and your breath leaves you in a hiss as the dry hair hits your raw skin. But before you can soothe your own pain, Vash takes your wrists in his grasp, thumbs gently gliding over the reddened skin as he pulls you closer once more.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you feel Vash lean in, the heat of his body encompassing as his lips brush against yours.

“Have you learned your lesson? You won’t run away from me again, right lovebug?”

Vash’s sinister words send a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps erupt all across your flesh as the skin on your fingertips tingles. This man has orchestrated every part of your life for the past year without you even knowing about it. What are the limits to his reach? His cruelty? His obsession? How far will he go to claim you as his own?

In your silence Vash releases a heavy sigh, then places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I asked you a question.”

The words catch in your dry and tightening throat. You swallow, lips trembling as you try your best to speak.

“Vash, I—”

Before you can finish, pounding footsteps vibrate through the jailhouse, and it’s not long before four men appear in the doorway with guns drawn and their expressions terrified at the massacre laying at their feet.

The moment the men lay their eyes on Vash, the four of them let out a roar of fury.

“The humanoid typhoon!”

“You bastard!” 

“Kill him!”

But before the men manage to aim their pistols, four gunshots whistle through the air in rapid succession. You didn’t even realize that Vash had unholstered his own gun before the four men dropped lifeless on the floor.

A fresh wave of despair courses through you and your head spins as the humanoid typhoon—the diablo —reholsters his gun and returns his attention to you. His face is calm and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just murdered an entire building full of people.

“Now, where were we?”

Panic stabs through your chest, kick starting your fight or flight. You have to get away, you have to escape him. Being a murderer, an outlaw on the run, isn’t who you are anymore. You’d promised yourself that you would leave that life behind, no matter how much you wanted the man who’d seduced you into that life in the first place.

Clenching your fists to try and subvert your shaking, you start to move your body to the right, readying yourself to pounce around Vash and make a break for the door. But Vash’s scarlet gaze sees through your every move long before you even conceptualize it. He sighs, rolling his eyes before slamming his palm on the concrete by your head, trapping you in his reach.

Your body jolts at the vibrations of the impact. Then Vash leans in, hot breath on your lips as he whispers a dark promise.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

No sooner had Vash uttered those foreboding words, more footsteps pound through the halls of the jailhouse. An irritated growl rumbles in Vash’s throat as he unholsters his gun once more and aims it at the door, hissing between his teeth.

“Cockroaches.”

Two more men emerge from the doorway and time slows as you watch Vash’s finger glide seamlessly towards the trigger.

Against all reasonable sense, your body moves. Lightening fast, you launch yourself at Vash, grasping his wrist in your hands and pushing his arm upwards with all of your might. Your sudden movement takes the humanoid typhoon off guard, and the two bullets he had intended to place right between the men’s eyes whistle and lodge into the wooden roof above.

“RUN!”

Using your body to knock Vash off balance, you bolt for the cell door, leaping over the bodies on the floor as the two men in front of you turn tail and run as fast as their legs can carry them. 

Your lungs burn as you follow them, racing out of the jail as if it were about to be engulfed in a raging inferno. Following closely behind the men in front of you, the three of you eventually manage to scramble out of the jailhouse. The cool night air hits your face and you pause. The street is dark and empty, and the two men who had just run out before you were racing towards the light of the neighboring town. 

You desperately want to follow them, to find sanctuary in the safe bustle of a populated town square. But Vash has his sights set on you, and you know you’ll only serve to put more innocent lives at risk if you look for help now.

The sudden sound of eerie humming echoes through the jailhouse behind you. You turn, body trembling and eyes wide as you search the darkness. Then almost as soon as that strange tune had started, it stops. 

A cold shiver of fear tingles down your spine at the foreboding silence. Then out of the darkness you hear Vash shout menacingly, his voice morphing into an inhuman two-toned scream that you’d never heard before. 

It curdles your blood.

“MAYFLY!”

You bolt, stray tears blinding your vision as you scramble like mad down the dirt dusted path in the opposite direction of town. Your breath rushes in and out of you at record speed as you rush towards the abandoned buildings lining the town’s outskirts. If you could just make it there and hide yourself in the shadows of broken and discarded concrete, you might stand a chance. 

But of course, much like a panicked animal with no sense of direction, your path twists and turns as you mindlessly try to find a good place to hide—only to wind up trapping yourself in a dead end. An empty alleyway illuminated solely by moonlight.

“No, no, no!”

You prepare to turn on your heel to retrace your steps but the moment you spin to face the other direction, your body becomes paralyzed with shock. Vash is standing right behind you . Somehow he had silently kept up with you, hounding your steps like a hungry dog from the depths of hell.

Vash smiles.

“Found you.” 

The unearthly flash of his red eyes shines in the darkness before a rush of wind gusts through the night. It’s then that you notice a single distorted, black feathered wing adorning Vash’s back. It stretches magnificently in the moonlight and you notice a gleaming, razor sharp talon adorning the juncture at the top of those cascading feathers. Your jaw drops. You had never seen Vash with wings before.

Vash takes a single step forward and stops when he sees you tremble. He watches you closely, both of you bodies still. And in that quiet moment, your soul is drawn into those deep crimson pools.

Mayfly…mayfly… lovebug …

Inexplicably, the tension eases from your body, limbs becoming still as if every part of you were surrendering to its fate. A devilishly handsome grin spreads across Vash’s lips as he watches your defiant spark finally simmer into nothing but harmless embers.

“Awww, trapped yourself again, little lovebug?” Vash chuckles darkly, his tone mocking. “Poor, sweet thing. You always seem to wind up in a cage.”

Your jaw clenches. How could Vash say that, when he was the one who drove you here in the first place? When he is the very cage itself?

“Y–you murdered those innocent people.”

Vash exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as the large black feathers on his wing bristle with irritation.

“Innocent? I’d hardly call them that.” The typhoon's playful expression falls and then darkens, and his voice shifts into a tone of dead seriousness.  

“They laid their hands on you.”

Before you can even blink, Vash is before you—a great shadow that looms and blocks out all light except that of the eerie glow of his gaze. Vash’s hands wrap around your wrists, squeezing the raw skin and making you gasp with pain. 

“They shackled you and locked you up in that cold, dark place. They hurt you, lovebug.”

Your molars sink into the inside of your cheek as you try to combat your cowardice with pain. You glare at the man before you, and spit out your next words like venom.

“Only because you had orchestrated it. You’re the mastermind here, not them.”

The sinister grin that pulls at the corner’s of Vash’s mouth confirms everything you had suspected. He truly is…a monster.

With a swift movement, Vash yanks on your wrists and jerks your body closer to his. You gasp, straining against him in vain. The heat that radiates off of Vash’s body slams into your skin as his single black wing swoops down to envelop you further. He’s warm—so warm—an ambrosia unlike any other.

“Clever girl.” Vash whispers before planting a chaste little kiss on the tip of your nose.

You shudder.

“Are—are you going to hurt me?”

Your question isn’t meant to elicit any sympathy, but Vash’s red eyes soften once he hears them and his grip around your wrists loosen. As if apologizing with his hands, Vash’s fingers circle and soothe your abused flesh.

“Oh lovebug, never. I absolutely adore you. I’d never let any harm come to you.” 

Vash brings your wrists to his lips, pressing hot kisses against your cold skin. The flames in your belly coil, reigniting as they are fueled by the rhythm of your heart. Vash is weaving his spell again, coaxing you back into that syrupy sweet web of deceit and rapture. 

And…you’re falling for it. Falling for him all over again.

“But,” Vash murmurs. His hot tongue slipping out of his mouth to swipe along your bruised skin. 

“You should be punished for trying to run from me.”

Air gusts out of your lungs as Vash pushes your body backwards. He manhandles you with ease before pinning your form against the frigid wall behind you. The claw at the juncture of where his wing bends pierces into the concrete with a terrible scraping sound and pins your wrists to the wall above your head, rendering you completely helpless.

Then, Vash’s nimble fingers undo the button of your slacks.

Jaw dropping, you cry out with rage, cursing Vash and kicking your feet against his legs as you try to fight back. But it’s as if you are battling against a tornado. Nothing you do phases him, and in one single, practiced movement, Vash rids you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt and underwear.

“Vash!” You screech, nailing him with another swift kick to the shin. “How could y–”

Words are stolen from your lips and your body completely freezes when you suddenly feel the glide of cold metal between your legs. You look down, and your heart nearly stops when you realize Vash has placed the barrel of his gun flush against your panty covered pussy.

The sound of Vash’s dark laughter turns your blood to ice. He leans forwards and presses his burning lips against the corner of your mouth.

“Ever played Russian roulette?” He whispers.

Eyes wide with panic, you turn your head to look at Vash—silently pleading for him to reconsider, to show you mercy and let you go. But Vash’s expression is calm and resolute.

“How about I make you a deal.” He muses. You watch, tense and breathless, as Vash’s thumb caresses the hammer of his .45 long colt. 

“If you can come before I get to the last bullet in the cylinder, we’ll consider your punishment served, alright?”

No. No, no, no, no.

“Vash, please—”

Brushing aside your protest, Vash presses the gun harder against your cunt, grinding the top of the cold barrel between your folds. You gasp sharply, arching against the icy friction as Vash pushes the gun further between your clenched thighs.

The rear sight bumps against your clit and you whimper as a rush of heat gushes between your legs. Vash grins at your reaction, thrusting the gun harder against your tender flesh. 

“That’s it, lovebug” Vash coos. “Feels so good doesn’t it?”

The hammer of the gun clicks, and you have to stifle a pathetic squeal before it can escape. Vash’s smile widens, eyes alight with excitement—then he pulls the trigger.

Blank.

Your body sags.

“One.” Vash purrs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus singularly on your goal. You have to come before Vash gets to that last bullet. You have to.

Hot puffs of air leave you open mouth in desperate whines as you start to piston your hips against the barrel of Vash’s gun, rubbing your swelling clit and folds against the harsh metal at his command.

A pleased hum rumbles in Vash’s chest as the obsidian feathers above you shudder with delight.

“Yes,” Vash breathes, leaning down to sample your flesh. His sharp canines tease along the column of your throat, and the feeling of his hot breath fanning across your skin makes you shiver and mewl. Your pussy twitches, nipples hardening as you start to melt in his hands.

“Good girl.”

The cylinder of the gun turns and you groan, grinding your pussy harder along that metal length. All logical thought disappears as the intoxicating pleasure of Vash’s game overpowers your mind. Like a worm on a hook, Vash has you in his grasp—he always has.

Another click of the trigger, another blank.

“Two.”

Vash’s mouth latches onto your throat now, his tongue and teeth caressing and nipping your skin as his free hand rises up to grope your neglected breast, pinching and teasing at your puckered nipple with greedy fingers.

Lewd moans fall from your lips as jolts of pleasure ricochet through your body. A desperate plea of Vash’s name fills the air as you slick drips from your fluttering cunt, lubing up the gun between your folds.

“Mmmm,” Vash moans, pink tongue languidly licking at his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the spectacle before him. 

“That’s it, rub that pussy, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Vash’s gun clicks once more. Thankfully, it’s another blank.

“Three.”

Only three more changes remain, and one of them is deadly. Knowing this, your movements become more desperate, grinding yourself against Vash’s gun with fervor as sweat begins to pour down your brow and back. Your body trembles, and you try not to think about how you must look, humping Vash’s gun like a bitch in heat.

Oh god.  

You’re scared but you’re positively throbbing for Vash’s touch. You haven’t been touched once since you’d escaped his clutches, and despite everything that has happened and the new life you had chosen, you are still so foolishly in love with him.

The people of this land may have been the ones you have chosen to side with, but Vash is the only one in your dreams. Vash is the only one who can make you feel like this. He haunts you and corrupts you. Fucks you and devours you.

Vash is the diablo you just can’t shake.

Releasing your throat with a hungry growl, Vash’s mouth travels up to passionately kiss your lips. You moan wantonly, accepting his tongue with unrestrained lust as you attempt to arch your body closer to his. Vash’s tongue swirls in tandem with yours, groaning into your mouth as he readies another shot. You whimper against him, fingernails digging into his feathers.

“Vash…”

Click

Blank.

“Four.” Vash pants, his tongue plunging into your mouth once more, matching in time with the thrusts of his gun. Paradoxically fucking you brutally and sweetly at the same time.

Vash angles his gun upwards, teasing the metal shaft against your entrance. And gods, you know you should be terrified—fighting him tooth and nail for not only your dignity but your life. But as the now warmed and lubed metal of his gun plays with your entrance, all you can do is arch and moan like a whore.

An alluringly dark chuckle rings in your ears as Vash’s grip on your breast tightens. You gasp as he pinches your nipple and rolls it harshly between his fingers.

“Wishing it was my cock, lovebug?”

You shake your head back and forth, and Vash’s grin widens.

“Don’t lie, of course you are. You’ve always been such a dirty little slut for me.”

Vash pinches your nipple harder—a punishment for your little lie—and you cry out as the cylinder makes another round. This time, Vash doesn’t wait, he immediately pulls the trigger, eliciting a yelp of fear from the depths of your lungs. 

Sure enough, it’s another blank.

“Five.” Vash chuckles. He releases your breast, and you watch as his hand travels down to the front of his pants, palming the thick hot bulge that sits just underneath his coat.

“Oh, one more baby. You’ve been sooo lucky so far. Think you’re gonna cum before this gun blows your pussy sky high?” 

Your words tangle in your throat, so you elect to nod rapidly instead. Your teeth sink into your lip as you furiously rub your cunt along the length of the gun, purposefully catching your clit on the metal grooves at the base with each thrust.

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

Almost there. Almost there!

The cylinder turns one final time as Vash’s finger glides sensually along the trigger. He kisses you again, his tongue diving deep into your mouth, drinking in everything you have to give him. Vash swallows your scream, and then pulls the trigger.

…

Nothing.

Both your hips and the gun still, and Vash laughs gleefully at your confused and near delirious expression. He grins like a cat who had just eaten the canary, and then presses a tender little kiss to your lips.

“Six.”

Vash pulls the gun out from between your legs, the barrel glistening in the moonlight with your slick as he brings it up to your line of sight.

“Hmm, soaked it right through your panties didn’t you? What a little slut.”

Vash's long pink tongue snakes out from between his lips, and you watch—mesmerized and aroused to high heaven— as he licks the barrel of the gun clean. Vash’s eyes never leave you once as he purrs with satisfaction at your taste. 

When he’s finished, Vash holsters his gun then wraps that now free hand around your throat while the other lands heavily on your hip.

Your breath stalls as the fingers on your hip snake around and down into the waistband of your flimsy cotton underwear, body jolting as they slip inside and reach all the way down to your messy pussy. 

“Vash,” You whimper as his leather clad fingers toy with your swollen clit. 

“Vash…”

The wing that holds your hands captive disappears, and you sigh with relief as your arms fall and land on top Vash’s shoulders.

“Hold onto me little lovebug,” Vash coos, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Fuck, you are so cute.”

Without reserve, Vash plunges two of his fingers into your sex. Your back arches, and you moan loudly as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take his thick fingers deeper. You need him. You need him so desperately you feel like you’re gonna break.

Saccharine praise falls in hushed whispers from Vash’s lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot as he thrusts into your sloppy pussy ruthlessly. The wet squelch of your flesh lovingly sucking his fingers echoes across the empty hallway—indisputable proof oh just how much you want him.

“So wet. Gonna come on my fingers, lovebug? Think I should let you?”

You nod your head frantically, legs straining as you stand on the tips of your toes, thrusting against his hand with a wild cry—your cunt pulses and then practically weeps into his palm.

“YES! YES! Vash—please, please, let me come. Pleeease. ”

Oh, fuuuck. You’re so close. You’re gonna cum, just a little more. 

Vash smiles that dazzling handsome smile of his as his fingers tighten around your throat, cutting off most of your air and making your head spin. Your cunt squeezes around Vash’s fingers as he thrusts them inside, only for him to bully your g-spot until you cry.

“So pretty when you beg, baby.” Vash coos, licking a fallen tear from your cheek. 

“But…”

His fingers slip out of your puffy walls, and you cry out with frustration, fists banging against his shoulders like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum.

But Vash just laughs at you, and before you can give him a piece of your mind, he slides off your ruined panties and hoists you up into the air. Your back presses against the crumbling wall as your thighs come to rest on Vash’s shoulders.

He’s so strong.

Monster…

Without delay, Vash’s mouth dives between the twitching folds of your sex, and you scream up into the starless sky.

God, Vash always knows just how to pull you apart. He always manages to find that frayed and loose thread of your willpower, wrap it around his lithe fingers, and then pull it oh-so-gently. The reward of watching you as you unravel before him must have been the sweetest euphoria, because he kept doing it. Again and again.

“You taste so good.” Vash growls hotly against your sex. 

“Admit it, no one can treat you as good as I do.”

Vash’s tongue flattens along your pussy, red eyes making contact with yours and holding you there as he slowly and sensually circles his tongue around your clit.

“They don’t know how to worship this pussy properly.”

“Vash,” You beg, throat tightening as you choke on your tears. “Please, let me come. I’m aching.”

Wordlessly, Vash laps your clit into his mouth, giving it one harsh suck before snagging it between his teeth. You cry out, fingers burning into his white locks as he releases you.

“There, there lovebug. Spread your legs wider. You can take my tongue for just a little bit longer, right?”

Begrudgingly, you do as he says, and Vash groans as you spread yourself open just for him. The humanoid typhoon dives in again, lapping hungry stripes along your cunt—spitting on your little hole and then collecting every drop of his saliva and your slick that he can gather before readily swallowing every drop.

“I haven’t tasted you for a whole year.” Vash growls against your folds, the tip of his nose rubbing forcefully against your clit and making you see stars.

“It was torture being without you.”

Vash begins to thrust his tongue into your sex, sloppily eating then sucking your throbbing flesh into his mouth. With his body, Vash passionately coaxes out every hidden little secret you’d buried deep. You scream with rapture in his hands, more tears falling freely down your face as you rapidly unravel in Vash’s hands.

“Vash, don’t stop! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Anything you ask! Please!”

But just as you’re about to reach your climax, your pussy clenching sweetly around Vash’s talented tongue, the heat of Vash’s mouth slips away.

The wail of despair that is ripped from your throat echoes pathetically into the desert air.

Vash chuckles at your anguish, giving your pussy one last cheeky lick before lowering you back to the ground. 

The moment your feet touch the floor, your body sways, unsteady and dizzy from the unfulfilled pleasure that Vash had ransacked through your body.

But Vash holds you steady as he pushes his coat to the side and unbuckles himself. Your half hooded eyes fall to the place where he’s touching but before you can catch a glimpse, Vash positions you facing the wall, ass out and hands up—bracing yourself. 

You shiver at the loss of Vash’s warmth. Your trembling doesn’t escape Vash’s notice, but before he decides to comfort you, Vash gives your cunt a healthy slap.

You shriek, tossing a fiery glare at him over your shoulder. Infuriatingly, Vash gives you a flirtatious wink before pressing his body flush to yours and draping himself over you. His black wing and blue coat envelop you and shield you from the moonlight above.

“Cold?” Vash’s hands wrap around your waist. “You’re trembling.”

You don’t respond, your lips pressing together into a thin line as you push your body backwards, rubbing your pussy against his bulge with a wordless demand. You want Vash’s cock. You want him to soothe your ache, to fill you up and make you forget your own name. 

Vash exhales a pleasured sigh as you rub yourself against him, his hands moving from your waist to circle around your back. He traces your spine with the care a sculptor shows his masterpiece. Vash’s scarlet gaze drinks you in with awe as you arch needily under the pressure of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, lovebug. I’ll keep you warm from now on.”

The sounds of rustling fabric and the satisfying pull of a zipper elicit a flicker of heat in your core. You look back, a moan falling from your lips as you catch a glimpse of Vash’s perfect cock. He’s achingly hard, his beautiful pink head leaking a gorgeous, glistening trail of precum down onto the globe of your ass.

Licking your lips, your gaze captures his. Even in the dim light, you can see that Vash’s cheeks are flushed as he breathes heavily.

Then, without so much as a word, Vash leans back and shoves every single inch of his throbbing cock inside of you with a single thrust.

Your head flies back as you scream his name in ecstasy. Without missing a beat, Vash reaches forward to grab a fistful of your hair, and the two of you moan in unison as Vash begins to rut feverishly into your sex.

“V-Vash! Vash! Vash!”

Your bodies straining and hips trembling, Vash bears down on you like a storm, claiming every inch of your soft flesh with indiscriminate and unrelenting hunger. The slap of his hips forces your body forward, and you brace yourself against the crumbling wall with all your might as the typhoon ravishes you from the inside out.  

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up again. Fuck, you’re so close—twitching and milking Vash with each brutal thrust inside your walls. And Vash knows how turned on you are . He can feel how your slick insides squeeze and massage his cock desperately, the pounding of your heart under his fingertips, the delicious gasps of pleasure he pulls from the depths of your depravity.

And with one more savage thrust you finally come, screaming and quivering as your body succumbs to wave after wave of unimaginable, white hot pleasure.

But Vash doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm, holding your hips steady as he keeps pounding into you from behind, using you like a fleshlight for his pleasure.

“More.” Vash growls, fangs nipping sharply against the skin on your back. 

“Give me more!”

You gasp for breath, fingernails scratching against the deteriorating concrete as your pussy squeezes down on him, helplessly barreling your entire body into another orgasm even as you finish the last. The cry of pleasure you release is guttural, primal and sinful as your cunt pulses around Vash's cock once more—desperately sucking, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

Vash stills for a moment, moaning openly as he savors the sensation and sight of your helpless body at his mercy. Vash’s chest burns with satisfaction as he feels the pleasure rolling off your skin. Pleasure that only he can give you. 

With a jerk of his body, Vash pulls his cock out of you. Then in a swift series of movements he pulls you upright and turns you around to face him. Your legs are practically jelly and utterly pliant to his whims as he hooks his arms under them and hauls you up in his arms. In response, you wrap your arms around Vash's neck and bury your face against his chest.

Vash buries his cock inside you to the hilt again, and your toes curl as you wail from the overstimulation. Surprisingly, Vash’s thrusts start slow, grinding into you languidly as you whine. The humanoid typhoon hushes your mewling sobs while he fucks you, pampering every part of you he can reach with his tender kisses—like the calm before the storm. It’s not long before Vash grows impatient however, and his pace rapidly quickens as he gives in to the raging lust inside him.

You.

His obsession.

His lovebug.

He’ll never let you go again.

“So good f’me.” Vash moans, fingers digging into your ass as he bounces your harder and faster on his cock. The lewd squelches and ring of cream that forms at his base the evidence of your sinful yearning.

“Gonna make you scream and squirt all over my cock, how does that sound?”

Vash’s unrelenting pace doesn’t falter as he chases your shared highs. You are powerless as you’re pulled into the undercurrent of his desire. Vash slams his dick inside you and his thick and demanding cockhead collides with your cervix. 

A surge of both pain and pleasure knocks the air out of your lungs as you’re sent tumbling into yet another powerful orgasm. Vash grins, utterly pleased with himself as he watches you cry and sing your anguished pleasure in his arms. Then, as if all this weren’t enough, a single large black feather slips between the two of your bodies like a snake, and begins to toy with your clit.

You scream.

“Come again.” Vash commands.

“Vash! S-stop!” You cry out, fat tears filling your eyes as drool falls from your lips from the overstimulation. God, he’s ruining you.

“I–I can’t come anymore! I can’t!”

Vash slams you against the wall, stabilizing you against it before one hand reaches down to pinch your clit, while his other hand wraps around your throat and squeezes.

“I’m not asking you. Come on my cock, now .”

Vash thrusts his shaft pitilessly inside you, the head of him ramming fiercely against your g-spot again before plunging all the way inside you. Your body can’t take it, the pressure between your hips releases, and you howl like an animal as your pussy pulses and gushes, squirting all over Vash’s cock as you come. 

An unabashed, obscene moan falls from Vash’s lips when he feels the rush of your pleasure in liquid form.

“That’s it, my perfect little slut. Sooo perfect. Look down and watch your pussy make a creamy little mess for me.”

And Vash still doesn’t stop. He continues to pound into you, fucking your through your orgasm yet again. He’s determined to thoroughly and irrevocably break you. And as you cling to him for dear life, the words that Vash had spoken earlier that night ring loud and clear in your mind.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

You should have listened, but it was too late now.

Near delirious and exhausted, you practically fall limp in Vash’s arms, but Vash doesn’t let you tap out. Not yet. He pulls your head back, forcing you to look him straight in the eye, then he whispers,

“You are mine, do you understand? Your thoughts are mine. Your body is mine. Your pussy is mine…”

Vash slams back inside you with a force that nearly has you passing out. Then, he seals his lips with yours, tongue swirling and consuming everything he can reach.

When Vash releases you, you gasp for breath as his pace resumes.

“Your heart is mine.”

You swallow, your mind nothing but pleasured static and love drunk fog as you stare at him. That devilish smile returns to Vash’s face. He truly is incomplete without it.

“Admit it, lovebug.”

Your body trembles and in a desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this torture, the words escape you in a rush.

“Yes. I love you, Vash.”

Vash’s entire body shudders as he purrs at your confession. His dark wing drapes over the both of you as he claims your lips with yet another passionate kiss.

“Atta' girl.”

Surprisingly, Vash’s pace slows to a gentle grind. Slowly and languidly he rubs himself inside of you, as if he’s savouring you like a worshipper at a temple. The final orgasm that you share isn’t explosive like the ones you’ve had before.

It’s tender and sweet, washing over the both of you in gentle waves. Vash releases the softest and most beautiful moan as he comes, kissing you breathless as he fills you up with wave after wave of his hot cum.

For a brief moment, you wonder if this is the first time Vash had found release after you left. Had you been the only one to…

As your climaxes subside, harsh pants fill the air. Both you and Vash melt into each other’s arms, utterly destroyed and exhausted. Your sex throbs with a terrible ache, and to help relieve some of your tension you wiggle your hips, sliding Vash’s cock out half way in an attempt to get a breather.

But Vash growls, and shoves his cock all the way back inside you, grinding up against your cervix and making you whimper.

“Keep it all inside you, lovebug.” Vash murmurs softly. 

The humanoid typhoon claims your mouth with one more toe-curling kiss, and the two of you moan, slowly indulging in one another’s taste. Sucking and licking, until finally you have to pull away for air.

Vash pouts, but then he pulls back, electing to admire your love drunk expression instead.

“Didn’t you know?” Vash whispers, leaning back in to rub the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Lovebugs stay connected to their mates for life.”

You pause and digest those words. While they may seem romantic on the surface, deep down you see the foreboding promise they hold. Pulling away from Vash’s pampering, you respond.

“Lovebugs don’t live long. They die right after they mate.”

It’s Vash’s turn to pause, his expression quizzical as he looks into your eyes. But after a few beats, a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across his lips. It’s the kind of smile only a god of death could have.

“You’ll be the exception.”

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[theresattrpgforthat]

I was wondering if you had recommendations for a game that evokes the vibe of like The Thing (or Among Us) from the social angle - there is something here passing itself off as human, as *one of us*, and we need to find out who it is. Maybe with hidden roles? It seems like there's a lot of interesting space to explore there.

Thank you!!

Theme: Hidden Role Games

Friend, I've got more games for you than I thought I was initially going to find, and each one is in a different setting! Enjoy!

What We Thought We Knew, by Mouse.

You play as a group of friends who have known each other for many years- at the very least since highschool, and have gone through many transitional phases with each other.

It has recently been revealed to you that someone in your friend group has not actually been there for all of these events- they have been implanted in the group for whatever reason and all your memories modified to fit them into the narrative. None of you know who it is -- not even the fake.

In order to find out who the fake is, you must experience some of your core memories together again, moving through them like you are those versions of yourselves again, to try and spot the mistakes in the memories, the distortions that don’t quite make sense in the context of everything else happening.

The hidden role in this game is as determined by the GM, and the fake will not know that they are the imposter at the beginning of the game. The setting for this game appears to be relatively agnostic, so you could make this a fantasy setting, a futuristic setting, or even a modern setting. Characters have four stats: Head, Heart, Flesh and Beyond. The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so when you roll your dice according to stat, there’s graded successes/failures. Players will also get chances to identify a distortion, which helps the group figure out what pieces of information don’t add up. If you want a game with mystery for almost everyone a the table, you might want to check out this game.

Jackrabbit Parole, by Willow Willis.

Well, you screwed up. Whatever you did, it was bad enough to land your ass in prison. Not just your average state-of-the-art correctional institution, either. This place is Bad News.

Parole? Don’t make me laugh. This is your life now. There’s no help coming for you and your fellow unfortunates. You’ll shit, sleep, work and eat when and where they tell you to for the rest of your miserable existence. If you want out, there’s only three paths:

Execution. Suicide. Or escape.

And since the first two don’t sound too promising, all you’re left with is jackrabbit parole.

Jackrabbit Parole is a game about prison escapees, one of which is a Snitch. The exact setting of the prison is up to you - the only thing that matters is that you’re stuck here unless you find a way to get yourselves out. You’ll roll to determine what your characters’ relationships are, and draw cards determine your roles.

There are two special roles: the Ringleader and the Snitch. The Ringleader has access to everywhere in the prison; the Snitch wants to get as much information as possible and pass it on to the guards. The Snitch profits by keeping everyone here, which means that players cannot communicate openly about their plans. The game plays over three acts, so I think it’s pretty easy to contain inside a single session, and it comes with some suggested settings if you’re not sure where to start.

Conspire, by Cherry Picked Games.

Conspire is a hidden-role storytelling game. Players delve into any moment of conflict, real or fake, and populate the scene with shady figures. They secretly assign objectives to these in-world characters and shuffle the roles amongst themselves. Everyone draws a role to inhabit and acts them out, not knowing who any of the others are or what they are trying to accomplish. What follows is an intense tale of bluffing, brokering deals, and shaping the very universe to your whims.

This feels like a GM-Less game, with all of the roles and motives of each character determined according to the setting and people created by the group at the table. Each piece of the puzzle is created collaboratively, so you’ll know what’s going on with one or two people, but not the whole picture. If you want a game that gives everyone the same responsibilities and has the flexibility to fit the settings in your head, this might be the game for you.

Eulogy of a Fool, by Kate.

In Eulogy of a Fool, all players are attending the funeral of a Fool. However, the Fool is in this crowd, having faked her own death to collect on a life insurance policy.  Everyone in attendance must give a eulogy while the Fool tries to blend in and everyone else is trying to single out any suspicious persons.

This game consists of a series of cards, 20 of which are Identity cards, and 30 of which are relation cards. There will only be about as many cards in play as there are players for any given game, so I think having so many options allows for a different game every time you play. Each player will also have to give a eulogy about the deceased, using information given to all non-imposters, while the Fool will have to improvise as best as they can. Looking at the instructions and prep for this game, I think this game would be very easy to learn. There’s a script for the GM to follow while running the game, and the cards make it easy to generate characters on the fly. If you want a game that’s part ttrpg, part card game, this might be the game for you.

EUREKA, by @anim-ttrpgs

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an original, fully fledged, 200-page 2d6 TTRPG from The Agency of Narrative Intrigue and Mystery inspired by The X-Files, Kolchak: The Nightstalker, and much more!

Eureka features investigation mechanics that let players take initiative, use their characters’ unique strengths to find clues, and deduce conclusions themselves rather than to just walking into a room and roll Investigate.

EUREKA’s main focus is on solving mysteries, but the way character creation is meant to be set up means that it is very likely that characters will have a lot of secrets, purposefully hidden from the rest of the group at game start. If you are playing a supernatural creature of some kind, your character will have plenty of reasons to keep their identity a secret. While the group is trying to solve whatever mystery there is, your characters will have to decide just how much they trust each—other, with dramatic reveals possibly prompting some thrilling and suspenseful moments. This game isn’t quite in it’s final form, but there’s a robust community currently play-testing it, and the folks behind the development are very eager to answer questions and help you get a game to the table.

Loyalty, by jackdawfactories.

You are the crew of a deep-space mining vessel who have just been awoken from stasis. You are coming in to land on a previously uncharted planet, and must investigate the nearby cave system for its utility to you - but of course, there’s more to it than that…

Loyalty is a game based on Ridley Scott’s Alien, and combines standard RPG mechanics with a hidden role aspect. Survive the horror you have unleashed while working out who - anyone - is the traitor in your midst.

This is a game in which more than one person could have a secret role. You draw a card from a regular deck of playing cards, and based on what kind of face you have, you are either an android infiltrator, or a human. Because the character creation is randomized, it’s totally possible to have an entirely human crew - but the players won’t know this, and thus the paranoia will still be present.

On top of this paranoia, you’ll be facing off against an alien, and the more you come up against it, the stronger it gets. There’s a win condition, a lose condition, and the possibility to eject a suspect out of an airlock. If you like heightened stakes and no good endings, this might be the game for you.

The Warmest Place to Hide, by Rosie.

The Warmest Place To Hide is a TTRPG homage to John Carpenter's The Thing. 

It is the longest night in Antarctica, and something has made its way inside the research station at which you work. You and your teammates must work together to protect yourselves from assimilation - but when the creature can make itself look like anyone and anything, who can you really trust?

Create a base, populate it with crew, then see if you can survive an alien invasion.

This is the game for folks who want a direct re-creation of The Thing. As this is a Caltrop Core game, the rules are fairly minimal and use dice pools of d4’s. You can roll randomly for your character’s background, and choose an archetype that will give you specific skills and special abilities. You’ll also receive a random assignment of “Human” or “Something Else”. If you are Something Else, you always have to opportunity to take over any dead characters.

I’m not entirely sure how you communicate to players that they are Something Else without alerting the whole table; I’m assuming that this is the sort of game that involves passing a lot of notes. I think it might also be interesting if the GM introduces other threats that could kill players so that the Thing can approach and assimilate them without the players necessarily knowing who’s doing it.

[haphazardlyannotated]

Steven Universe told from the perspective of other characters

Garnet: A story of gay empowerment from start to finish. As a book it would be titled either Made of Love or Stronger Than You and feature Garnet's gauntlets with her wedding rings on them as cover art.

Amethyst: A seemingly wacky coming of age story that drops the most heartfelt moments when your guard is down. The cover resembles kids' detective stories, the kind where the whole gang is looking around for clues to the mystery.

Pearl: Everything up to Rose's death is an ancient literary classic titled The Ballad of Rose Quartz, illustrated with intricate inkbrush paintings. Steven Universe season one to three is the kind of introspective life after tragedy novel you pick up to look sophisticated reading. It's probably titled Without Her or something similiar. I don't have a title for season four and onwards, but the blurb is "it's not easy to manage twenty girlfriends, two life partners, a son and a dark past at the same time!" It's much more lighthearted than the previous two, but still prone to punching you in the emotions with little warning.

Connie: A magical adventure series just like the Unfamiliar Familiar! It centers Steven the magical boy with his best friend and eventual love interest Connie as the female lead. The tone gets a little darker after the first book/season, but less so than the original Steven Universe (let alone Steven Universe Future).

Greg: First a coming of age story, but unlike Amethyst this one is about breaking away from toxic people in your life. This story gets its happy ending when Greg finally finds someone he can be himself with in Rose. The time until Rose's death is a romantic comedy titled My Girlfriend, her Girlfriend and Me and conists mostly of shenanigans. After Rose's death and Steven's birth, it turns into something more bittersweet centering Greg's worries about being an adequate father to his magical son.

Peridot: It's titled How I learned to stop worrying and join the Rebellion and is easily the most lighthearted installment here. Our dorky protagonist is very obviously a somewhat unreliable narrator, but in a funny way. She encounters a few struggles, but they are quickly overcome with the power of friendship.

Lapis: This is just multiple whump fics. They're in a collection titled Bad Things Happen Roulette. Steven Universe the Movie is a pretty standard fantasy adventure with a group of powerful heroes though, and Steven Universe Future is the fluff fic with a smidge of angst you'd read as a pick me up after Bad Things Happen Roulette.

Bismuth: The war is a good vs evil sci-fi story with lots of social commentary. The Diamonds are definitely irredeemable here. I don't know what to do with the few episodes of the original Steven Universe she was in, but the movie is an empowerment narrative against systemic oppression titled Still Standing, or something in that style. Steven Universe Future however is a romantic comedy.

Rose: This is just a straight (well, bi) up tragedy. Our protagonist desperately tries to recover from her childhood trauma and be a good person, but is ultimately unable to escape the prison of her own mind. The book wins several literature prizes, but very few people actually read it because it's just too depressing.

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Our Flag Means Death is quite deft at not falling into binaries where one "world" represents freedom for all characters, and for showing how things like wealth, class, and piracy itself become prisons depending on who you are.

(Note: obviously the show deliberately avoids a good bit of the reality of the 18th century in Barbados, including slavery, and most of the historical elements of the real Stede Bonnet, Blackbeard, etc. But as OFMD proves in all its deliberate anachronisms, none of this is about historical authenticity, but using the broad strokes of history to craft a narrative about authentic human experience.)

Stede's wealth and status (and gender) allow him to become a pirate in the first place and to forge the family that he wants. But it soon becomes imprisonment, because it ties him to a society and a culture that cannot accept him (and that's fundamentally colonialist, racist, homophobic, classist, etc., all things that Stede clearly abhors). It is a world pushing him towards death by trapping him in an arranged marriage and a culture where he cannot be the man he is - he's uncertain, at the start, if he even wants to live. He's able to become a pirate because of his wealth, but he cannot remain one just because of it - and much of the show develops how the more Stede sheds trappings of wealth and status, the more authentic he becomes.

Where piracy initially represents freedom for Stede, it has come to represent imprisonment for Ed. He longs for the fine things that he got to brush up against but never be a part of. He's been trapped in the Blackbeard persona - the persona that undoubtedly once protected him and still enables him to survive. Stede holds out to him the things Ed thought he could not have - and Stede does it freely, right from the start, not as an act of bribery or condescension, but of friendship. Ed doesn't have to kill or steal to have those things; he doesn't have to be Blackbeard, but just Ed.

But the fine things are also hollow; Ed's foray into that world is ultimately degrading. And Stede, once again, reaches out to him with gentleness and the words that he needs to hear, from the man that he needs to hear them - the "fine things" already are his, and he wears them well.

In some ways, Season 1 has Stede as the fine thing that Ed wants and believes he can't have, and Ed as the freedom Stede wants and believes he can't have; the conversation in the moonlight represents the barrier breaking and both of them, simultaneously, starting to realize that they can have each other.

But class and the demands of two different worlds are working against them. Stede is captured and about to be executed and Ed demands an act of grace. At this point, Ed has been sold to Izzy and Stede has been sold to the English - their lives and bodies now belong to the two worlds that entrapped them and from which they were escaping towards one another. Stede accepts his execution as his just punishment, but then breaks down - having experienced freedom (Ed), he no longer wants to die.

But Ed refuses to be sold. Izzy's shock that Ed would rather symbolically kill Blackbeard than live without Stede is mirrored by Chauncey's shock that both Blackbeard and Stede's crew will show loyalty to him. Chauncey initially reclaims Stede from Ed - "he's from my world, not yours" - pulling Stede back into the prison of his class and towards death (both real and symbolic). But both Ed and the crew refuse to let Stede die - Ed won't move from in front of Stede, and the crew speak up for, and prove, Stede to be a "real pirate." They say that Stede belongs to their world, not Chauncey's.

Ed and Stede's first kiss happens when they're on equal footing - Stede Bonnet is "dead" and Blackbeard shaves his beard. But they're still imprisoned, and not just by the English. Ed has moved farther ahead in his search for freedom, having discarded his black beard (his piracy) that was imprisoning him, but Stede is still being pulled back into his prison by his guilt and sense of having failed as a man, and by Chauncey himself.

Of course, Stede's return home reveals that his death has actually freed his family. Where wealth and status represent a prison for Stede, they represent freedom for Mary. As a widow, she has financial independence. She has security for herself and her children. She's able to start doing the things that make her happy, and that take her out of the necessity of being "a wife" to a deeply unhappy husband and allow her to be "a person." She's able to fall in love with someone who understands her, supports her art, and loves her back.

It is by talking with Mary - perhaps the only authentic conversation they've ever had, because it's the first time Stede has given voice to his homosexuality - that Stede is finally set free. He can return to Ed on a more equal footing by turning his wealth over to those for whom it's actually freedom, his wife and family - it is both the fairytale "giving everything up for love" and the divesting of burdens to become more his authentic self. Stede hasn't actually given up anything; he's becoming himself, a man able to love Ed as he should be loved.

[tobi-smp]

absolutely nobody wants to see me rant about the end of the dream smp for one millionth time in october 2023, but the anniversary has people talking on my dash so now I'm infected with one of the same 4 thoughts I always have about the dream smp

obviously there is a Very Very large number of reasons that people have a complicated relationship with the dream smp, both in universe and out. and the worst for me are the Obvious out of universe reasons that don't need to be repeated here.

but the cake for In Universe reasons is definitely still the crimeboys ending. it was the final nail in the coffin for me back when I hadn't realized that the coffin had any more nails it could take in the first place, and it's a big part of why the parts of the series that I Do very much so enjoy are very often painful to look back on.

and this isn't because wilbur is a bad writer or a bad actor (or tommy for that matter), even at the time I had Really enjoyed the lead up to the end, even and Especially in that final stream sending wilbur off.

I had my issues of course, I haven't exactly been quiet about that, but in retrospect I Understand the circumstances much better and respect wilbur's choice to get out of there as cleanly as possible.

we still don't know Exactly what was happening behind the scenes, including and Especially with dream, but we Do know full well that dream stopped interacting with the entire rest of the server leaving countless story lines (that he'd Intentionally made himself integral to) left to dry with no way to move forwards while they waited for interaction that would never ever come.

wilbur's choice to move forwards with his send off of his character on his own terms, even with and especially Because of the clear scheduling issues, was the smartest decision he could have made considering the circumstances. I would very much so argue that his character is the Only One that got sent off with any amount of dignity largely Because he stopped playing dream's little game. and I do have to wonder if wilbur escaping the narrative wasn't inspired more by the real life circumstances at the time.

but no matter how satisfying I find it, no matter how much Good I see in it, no matter how much I respect and agree with the choice to do it, I cannot think about wilbur's ending without a Deep ache.

and it is for one single reason

he left tommy behind on purpose, this time fully with the knowledge of the situation he was leaving him behind In.

the abandonment that characters like tommy, niki, and fundy felt after the 16th are ultimately understandable ways of dealing with grief, but weren't Fair to truly hold against wilbur. wilbur didn't Leave, he didn't make the decision to allow the people important to him to be hurt in his absence. he committed suicide because he was sad.

wilbur getting on that boat, truly Knowing what dream did to tommy in a way that only tommy and dream knew, and leaving tommy alone on that beach affected me in ways that nothing else on the server ever has. and that truly is not a good thing.

now, I Think that what was likely supposed to happen is that dream was Supposed to interact with tommy regularly after the prison escape, and that that was supposed to build up to Some natural conclusion. we don't know what that conclusion would have been, but it was certainly nothing like what we got. and meanwhile wilbur's final arc was supposed to progress along side it, building Up To the logsted stream and his full understanding of the abuse dream had done and the affect it had on tommy.

we Know that at one point tommy had spoken about having a soft ending with wilbur. and After wilbur's ending actually did happen he'd mentioned that he might cameo on the server from time to time. that sounds like a soft ending to me.

it makes thematic sense, it makes sense with the pieces we got leading up to the final stream, it makes sense with the characters. and it couldn't happen, because dream refused to move any plot forwards and tommy of all characters couldn't move on without dream. again, both Thematically and because of what was happening behind the scenes.

and this is. frustrating beyond reason. that the snot genuinely poisoned one of the best aspects of the entire server because he was actively killing it but still didn't want to let go.

you can call it speculation, and it is, but this is what I believe and will continue to believe until tommy or wilbur say otherwise.

and on paper I just want to be able to say that the things that I don't like about the ending are bad because dream forced them to be bad and therefore I can just pretend like they never happened and substitute canon's reality with my own (or at the very least excuse it for being the way that it is).

and I have tried to do that ! both in chewing on the ending on its own terms And in imagining many Many ways that it could have gone differently (an activity I'm quite fond of regardless of circumstance).

but it just !

in a completely biased and nevertheless Extremely Honest word, hurt my feelings.

I cannot stop thinking about how they Intentionally set up wilbur finding out about dream abusing tommy, Made Sure to cover every base so the audience Knows that wilbur knows that it was physical, mental, and emotional abuse, Knows that wilbur is fully aware that tommy almost committed suicide, and Knows that wilbur was Deeply Emotionally Affected By This Fact.

and then had him leave. had him Plan Possibly Months Ahead Of Time. had him try to sneak off, only telling tommy the truth when he caught him by surprise and forced it out of him.

tommy opened up to somebody about exile in real honest terms for the very first time, to one of the people that he trusted the most, and that person Chose to leave him trapped with that very abuser out to get him Even Though he understood the danger and cared about him very deeply.

he knew that tommy was in danger, he knew Why tommy was in danger, and him leaving tommy behind was pre-meditated.

and it's Painful not just because of what it implies about their relationship As A Whole (because it's impossible to accept this as true without it affecting how we look back on what came before), but because those same implications makes it Impossible to imagine their relationship having a future.

people tried to play it off like a Soft Ending, like wilbur was just going to get therapy and then come back and they were just gonna hug it out and have a nice healthy relationship. and to be fair to those people, none of us could have predicted that tommy was going to be bombed and then reincarnated with none of his memories. that was Not in my predictions for the next phase of his character arc.

but, shitty sequel bait ending that everyone who cares has disavowed aside (way aside, into a deep pit to never be seen again), if I were tommy I would feel unimaginably betrayed.

where they left off is Not a place to reconnect with a healthy relationship when they're ready, because This Was A Traumatizing Event In And Of Itself.

I don't have to prove this, c!tommy proved this himself when started holing up in his house and abusing potions of invisibility both because he feels completely and totally Unsafe walking anywhere on the server when people can see him And as a relapse back into potion addiction reminiscent of his addiction post-exile.

he was at his absolute lowest point, his abuser and murderer escaped from prison ready to torment him and everyone he cares about for Literally forever. he was Desperately trying to find any form of stability, Desperately trying to reach out to for anyone he could trust, and he Intentionally opened up to someone he Did trust completely once. someone who made him feel safe, someone he trusted with his entire life.

he opened up Because he wanted that relationship, Because he wanted wilbur in his life, Because wilbur had wanted Him in His life. he wanted to cross that gap between them. he was making himself vulnerable to Extend that trust To wilbur.

and wilbur stopped talking to him for months and then left.

that's not going to do good things to his mental health or stability. tommy was Already displayed active suicidal tendencies BEFORE dream broke out of prison.

if he'd managed to kill dream for good and the characters went about their lives tommy would have to let wilbur go. rationalizing what happened, justifying wilbur's decision, would not be healthy.

he can accept that wilbur made the right decision for Himself. he can accept that Wilbur needed to leave, that Wilbur needed time to himself.

but tommy clinging on to wilbur's memory, justifying that he was left for dead with his abuser On Purpose, would not be healthy.

tommy would Need to realize that what happened wasn't okay. there Is no going back to having a relationship with wilbur. wilbur was Allowed to make the choice he did, but it Was a choice.

I can't bare to think of the alternative. where tommy is abandoned, deeply damaged by that abandonment, has to face his abuser and murderer Without someone he'd once considered a brother, and then turn around and just answer wilbur's call the moment Wilbur decides he's ready to have a relationship again.

that would just. be sad. genuinely awful.

and I can't let that go. the decisions they made were Sensible, I can see how it was necessary for wilbur to Have a proper send off when he did. there's no Satisfying way to re-imagine this series of events without it not Being the end.

but it tried to depict itself As a soft ending, As the characters having a future together, when it simply is not. if wilbur escaped the narrative then he left the people he cared about to be victims of the narrative Knowingly.

and it's frustrating Because I can see how it'd happen by accident. How the implications would be both meticulously set up and gone completely unseen.

but for my money, if I were to fix it on its own terms. with no additional screen time after, no change in the streams leading up to the end, and the understanding that tommy's story could not end at this point by necessity (the same restrictions that they had at the time)

I would have wilbur ask tommy to come with him. I'd have the reveal be that wilbur wanted to take tommy with him The Entire Time but knew that tommy was stubborn and attached to the server. but the moment he understood Exactly How Bad It Was he knew he needed to get them out of there Now.

so he did his best to hold dream off for now, and Immediately went to work setting up their escape (we don't need to understand How the portal to utah works, just that it took some time to set up).

it would recontextualize some of their earlier interactions, it would recontextualize his absence after the logsted stream, and it would recontextualize why wilbur didn't tell him until now.

and of course, because tommy has to stay (and because tommy is tommy) he refuses. he refuses not because he doesn't Want to go with wilbur (he wants to be with him more than anything, he wants to feel safe more than anything). but because he can't abandon the people on the server, because he can't let go until he knows dream is gone, because he will never ever feel safe until dream is dead.

and it can be a big dramatic blow out that Ends with that quiet awkward understanding, not with the characters being emotionally in sync but Knowing that this is how this moment has to play out. that same melancholy, that same understand that a choice is being made that can't go back, But It's Mutual.

It's Mutual And Born From Love.

because wilbur Wanted to save tommy, because tommy Wanted wilbur to stay, because they both understand why things aren't happening that way.

and they'll still be Hurt after. their relationship will still be impacted. this will still be something to Work Through rather than the magic soft fix that will make their relationship healthy and fluffy again.

but it's Fixable. if tommy survives there's a relationship still in tact to build on. there's a future where they both trust each other again one day, to find comfort and stability in each other. to put in the Work to build a life once the horror finally ends.

of course, if I had a say a lot more than this would've been changed. but it's a thought that plagues me because of how plausibly it Could have been what we'd gotten. because it would have worked without changing anything and it still would have hurt me at the time but it would have been the Good hurt. not a goodbye forever but goodbye until I can see you again. Goodbye And I Love You.

(at least until tommy got exploded with a bomb and forgot that wilbur existed. yippie)

[little-tyrant-gortash]

"The dungeon keeper, Nubaldin, tortured the young Gortash for entertainment from time to time."

Pulled from the official wiki. I mean what the fuck. What. The fuck. You're not telling me it wasn't enough his parents sold him, he was kept in a dungeon and was tortured for fun??!

Guess who's also a cunning boy and a master manipulator AND stirs a lot in politics? Guess who's been held prisoner and been tortured for other's enjoyment??

I'm fucking crying.

Astarion was saved by a bloody tadpole. Then, he surrounded himself with allies and put an end to his tormentor with them. He even has a relationship with someone who understands him and accepts him the way he is. Someone who loves him unconditionally, despite his flaws.

But Gortash? Nobody saved him. He escaped on his own. He built himself up from nothing on his own. Even if he got allies around him, they pretty much want him dead. He can't trust anyone, and he dies alone. He didn't get to have a Tav in his life to save him. He wasn't given a chance. Ever.

Talk about "doomed by the narrative".

[starlight-bread-blog]

What My Zutara Endgame Would Look Like

When people hear I want a Zutara endgame, the assumption is that everything will stay the same, except Zuko and Katara would kiss in that balcony instead of Katara and Aang. This is not the case. In actuality, the existing canon material would necessitate adjustments to accommodate such a divergence. I'd be remiss to demand something without explaining how to achieve it. Therefore, I must share a basic (or partial) rundown of my Zutara endgame.

(One might assume that it’s absurd to demand changes to justify a change, which is a very valid assumption I’ve pondered with myself, which is why I’ve written an analysis on the subject).

——————

The portrayal of a Zutara endgame would manifest as follows:

A\ang and Katara have been set up together since the very first season. What wouldn’t change would be the general structure and approach to writing their romantic developments, all of which will be elaborated on in their own posts.

1) In “The Headband”, for a moment, Kstara looks at A\ang with love. Additionally, she is shown to be jealous of him. These moments will be less explicit/toned down.

1½) At the end of “The Cave of Two Lovers”, Katara blushes. This will be removed. (However, it is not a must).

2) In “The Crossroads of Destiny”, Aang emerges into the Avatar state before opening his final chakra. He’s still meditating, focusing on letting go of his attachment, is conflicted, and starting to float, but being shot down before letting go. (Additionally, he doesn’t say “Sorry, Katara”).

3) In “Boiling Rock Part 2”, Mai and Zuko have a conversation in Zuko’s prison cell before Zuko escapes. In this rewrite, Zuko would imply that once he will end the war, they could be together, which Mai would immediately reject.

4) In the ending of “Boiling Rock Part 2”, both Mai and Ty Lee are shown to have qualms about killing who was once their friends. Everything plays out roughly the same, except the (admittedly, iconic) line “I love Zuko More than I fear you” is replaced with a different declaration.

4½) In “The Southern Raiders”, Zuko says "You were right about what Katara needed". This will be removed. (But again, not a must).

5) In the ending of the play in “Ember Island Players”, Aang is reminded that he is yet to master the Avatar State.

6) In “Sozin’s Comet Part 2”, when the lion turtle drops Aang back on shore, Aang asks it about the Avatar State.The fact that Aang’s last chakra isn’t yet open is mentioned, and Aang sits down to meditate.

7) The show ends with A\ang and Katara having a moment realizing they are better off as friends and a small hint of a future relationship in canon that could take many forms. For the final moments of the show, everyone is on the balcony.

——————

It is important to address the changes required in order to make sure that they don’t interfere with other plot threads. Additionally,one must understand what I’m arguing for, or else my evaluation couldn’t be cogent. Only now that we're in accord, I can trurly delve into the captivating narrative of Zuko, Katara, and the untapped potential of a romantic entanglement between them.

[rgbstatic]

i think in both regards to story, and in terms of meta/real life

doomsday and the destruction of l’manberg killed the server.

whether people were for or against or apart of l’manberg or not, it was a gathering point that brought people together to talk. it was a place people would hang out. it was a place with lots of chests to steal food and supplies from. in new l’manberg so so many people spent their time their even if they were completely unaffiliated or lived somewhere else.

storywise when it was destroyed, the story just lost a central characteristic for conflict, and a very important thing. l’manberg wasn’t just a place. it was ideals it was imagery, it was a goal, it was safety it was so many things, and with it gone with no hopes of returning, no matter how many new places people built they were all empty and never the same.

and with it gone everyone literally had to go their own ways. everyone who gathered there went far far away to make their own homes.

on a meta standpoint, people like talk about how much they miss old dream smp streams and that’s because of the non serious lore streams. where walking down a path and bumping into someone could lead to goofing off or serious talks.

where tommy could build a pathway from manberg to pogtopia for prime and for the upcoming rebellion, and get caught by a vice president who decided it was his day off and he was going to roleplay as a mcdonald’s worker.

it’s how you have tommy and tubbo goofing off on the server not doing lore, only for schlatt to see and they go lore mode and have to make up a pregnancy excuse.

it’s how you got silly serious moments. it’s also just straight up how you had people interact. if everyone lived hundreds of blocks away, it’s harder to just randomly run into each other while building or running to do something, meaning you’re less likely to talk, and less likely for anything to happen.

when l’manberg acted as a central hang out spot, people built their homes in close proximity, they would stick around the area and things naturally happened.

destroying l’manberg was, in my opinion, the worst thing they could have done. doomsday did very very little narratively to the story. the community house gathering did more to the story than doomsday did. and it was awful because tommy rallied people behind him to fight in doomsday not for him, but because if they could do this to l’manberg what would stop them from doing it to every other group.

and everyone fought, and despite an entire server fighting it was pointless.

the only thing doomsday did was force people to hide. and you can make claims for ranboo who went to live with phil and techno- but ranboo’s character arcs could’ve had a very similar outcome by staying with almost anyone else.

no l’manberg ultimately just drove everyone away, and there was never any serious or successful move to make anything on that server take its place, to fill the hole, so there was nothing to actively pull things together. no driving force or motivation, nothing to supply passive roleplay, nothing to bring people together.

everyone lost on doomsday. that loss of l’manberg meant no one could ever win again. just think about it. after doomsday, it was loss after loss.

the final disc confrontation? tommy and tubbo lost. they were rescued, but they lost their fight, and it was a trap anyway.

dream in prison? well he has punz on the outside, doesn’t matter, and he can control ranboo, and he still got to kill tommy AND ghostbur. it was a loss. and he escaped.

every single fight after. quackity lost, wilbur lost, tommy and tubbo lost again, and again. the server for everyone ended in a loss.

there was not ever a win again. usually in stories, after losses, you want something good to happen to make those hardships worth it. just like when good things happen you want bad things to happen to make it worth it, you need a balance.

think of the revolution. the up and down rollercoaster. the freedom into war into loss and death into hope into loss into compromise into win.

the election was a nail biting race where depending on who you voted for, was lose and a win. for tommy and wilbur it was a loss, but they quickly gathered things up, they had hope, and they had energy, and a plan, and techno joined and they were confident. there were ups and downs up until doomsday, afterword no character seemed to get an up. any positive was immediately trivialized. for example tommy’s decided to try and heal and make a hotel which was immediately turned into a problem where people tried to fight him over it and then he died. or he got a pet that made him happen and everyone tried to set it free or kill it. he finally starts to feel safe no relax and dream breaks loose, and he is endlessly stalked the entire time, and he dies alone with his abuser and his abuser’s accomplice.

there is never an up after doomsday, and killing l’manberg that day killed the dream smp.