Silly Games for Silly People
Okay so I asked for some ideas for the big boy, and in particular Summoned!König. I got some great ideas from @callofdreams and so I hope they enjoy this! I am definitely taking more of their ideas for this series, and so we might have a few of Summoned!König playing some board games. I didn't play many board games as a kid, but I do have fun writing this. I am still taking ideas for Summoned!König, so please let me know any ideas you have!
CW: none
Wordcount: 1.4k
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Silly Games for Silly People
You glared at the eldritch monstrosity across the table, your breath baited as your hands tightened together. He glared back at you, arctic blue eyes mere slits behind his dark hood. He leaned in close, analyzing your every move. You did just the same.
“Just roll the dice, König!” you finally snapped.
“And how do I know this is not mortal trickery?” König scoffed, “you truly believe that I am unaware of your inner machinations? That I am not leagues ahead of you in every possible way? You cannot possibly begin to compete with the likes of me.”
“Oh yeah? You really think you’re all that and a bag of chips, don’t ya?” you grabbed the dice and shoved them into his talons.
“Have you never heard of the concept of ‘patience’?” König snorted as he shook his palm.
“Have you heard the concept of ‘sore loser’?” you retorted.
König raised an eyebrow.
“It means you’re being a bitch because you’re losing,” you explained with a smug smile.
König bristled and tossed the dice. He glanced over the numbers, promptly slamming his fist on the table with enough force to shake all the pieces of the game.
“Oh yeah, look who’s all high and mighty now, huh?” you grinned as he slid his token back over to one corner of the board.
“Petulant worm,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned back into the folding chair that was only barely supporting his weight.
“I think you just don’t wanna admit that I’m better than you,” you snickered as you finished another lap of the board and collected your cash.
“I could eviscerate you,” König huffed, “and yet you mock me over some mindless board game, the only way you could possibly even try to leverage any power over me.”
“I think you’re just mad I’m better,” you gave him a cheshire grin.
You grabbed the dice and rolled them out on the table. The dice rolled a clean five and a four, just enough to get you to that final spot you wanted.
“Alright, hand over Pennsylvania Avenue,” you held out a waiting hand.
König grumbled bitterly, but thankfully he passed over the square of cardboard with a disgruntled flick of his wrist.
“Wow,” you laughed as you tucked the squares down in front of you,” you’re actually upset about this, aren’t you?”
“I am not upset by some inferior construction of human hands,” König sniffed, “I am merely astounded by the arrogance you exude.”
“Arrogance?” you scoffed, “au contraire, my friend! I think I’m creaming you this game.”
König glared at you from behind his mask. You were fairly certain that he wanted to strangle you that moment. You were only more and more excited by how upset he was.
König silently rolled the dice on his side of the table. The both of you hissed when one red die rolled over the edge of the table.
“Cocked,” you called out as you grabbed it back.
When you brought it back to König, he seemed positively peeved by you.
“What?” you handed the dice back to him,
“That was a six,” he huffed, “I needed a six to get out of jail.”
“Okay but it rolled off the table,” you pointed out, “when a die hits something on the table or rolls off it, it’s cocked and you need to reroll it.”
“And who taught you that inane ruling?” König drummed his claws against the laminated wood table.
“I dunno,” you shrugged as you sat back down, “it’s just something my DnD group taught me.”
“DnD?” König perked up, “what game is that?”
“Uh…” you looked down at the monopoly board and back up at your eldritch partner, “okay so, we’re struggling trying to play Monopoly, you’re not ready for DnD.”
“I could just read a mortal’s mind and get a good grasp,” König countered.
“Okay but, like, that would be their version of DnD,” you explained, “DnD is different for everyone. And you are not ready for DnD yet.”
König looked back down at the Monopoly board with disdain, “I want to move on from this one.”
“So are you admitting defeat?” you grinned.
“I would never deign to do such a thing, Summoner,” König snorted, “I am simply stating an opinion. Is that such a unfathomable concept?”
“Well, when you’re complaining about Monopoly, it’s kinda funny,” you pointed out.
König grumbled under his breath as he rolled the other die, blatantly ignoring whatever you wanted to say.
“Hey look! A six!” you cheered as the die flopped onto the center of the board.
“Finally!” König exclaimed as he slumped back into his chair with a groan.
“Hey hey hey watch it with the weight there, big guy,” you snapped, “I don’t wanna have to pay for another chair.”
“Did they actually deduct the past one from your pay?” König eased himself up off the backrest again.
“Yes!?” you laughed, “they took out all of them!”
At the very least, König had the decency to look sheepish about the matter as he steepled his fingers together on the table, “I see.”
“You see? Yeah I sure saw it coming out of my paystub!” you laughed.
König cringed into himself, but politely moved on to ask, “Well, who’s turn is it?”
“Um…” you looked down at the table, “I actually don’t remember. You do, don’t you?”
“I see no reason to try and clarify,” König’s eyes glinted with amusement.
You, on the other hand, were as far removed from any sense of amusement as you could have possibly been.
“No seriously, König, who’s turn is it?” you asked again.
“Why should it matter?” König shrugged, “is this not a simple game?”
“Yeah but, like, I don’t wanna be rude and take your turn or anything,” you tried to reason with him, but he was persistent. After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented. König was content to lean onto the table as you tried to get him to budge, but as it was, trying to get an avatar of chaos to play by the rules was next to impossible. Instead, you had to be creative.
“Alright, let’s play rock paper scissors to see who’s turn it is,” you determined.
“Rock paper scissors?” König tilted his head like a cat, “tell me, what is that?”
“It’s a game where you kinda, I dunno,” you patted your fist against your open palm, “you make your hand either a rock,” you held up a fist, “a pair of scissors,” you extended two fingers, “or paper,” you held out your palm. You extended your fist and held it up, “you say ‘Rock, paper, scissors,’ and the next time you put your fist on your palm you make the sign you want. Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, paper beats rock. Whoever wins gets the next turn. Wanna try?”
König held up one taloned hand and watched the lamp light glint off his black iridescent scales, then locked eyes with you, “It sounds rather simple. I think I can manage a round.”
And so, you both extended a fist and chanted, “Rock, paper, scissors!” and extended your hand.
You let your fist drop in horror.
“König that’s not what you’re meant to do.”
König frowned, “Aren’t I meant to make my fist look like the object?”
“König you’re meant to do the hand sign. Not… Not that,” you cringed as you heard his bones snap back into place.
“I apologize.”
“Wanna try again?”
“Seeing as my first attempt left much to be desired, I see a great need for another,” König mused.
“Alright!”
You chanted again and extended your fist. König, on the other hand, held out an open palm.
You glared at him and thinned your lips into a line, “Alright, best two out of three.”
“Vas!?” König scoffed, “are you telling me that we need to play again?”
“Just to be sure!” you huffed, eying the red and white dice hungrily.
König clucked his tongue and made a trill that sounded like bubbles rushing to the surface, but he held out his fist again.
“Go ahead Summoner, see how well this works out for you.”
You learned quickly that trying to win a game of chance against an avatar of chaos was, sadly, not as easy as you hoped.
Konig Dump
Alternate Universe Stories
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Asking for Batdad fic recs?
Listen- or read, i guess. It is 2am and I am craving an specific type of fic.
I really love the idea of Batman being a known dad. Like, at first? You are a goon, a bad guy, who fears Batman because he is the Dark Knight, the one who breaks bones and won’t have mercy beating your ass. Streets say criminals are better dead than surviving whatever pain the Bat can and will inflict.
But idk, i love reading fics where the criminals realize that they have fucked up when they hurt another member of the Batclan and oh no, Batman is their father isn’t he? We are so dead. We all saw what he did to the Joker after Robin #2…
(Extra bonus if the criminals slowly realize Red Hood is Robin #2 and THATS WHY RED HOOD FUCKS WITH THE BATCLAN (dude he is a bat himself, duh))
SO GIVE ME MORE FICS LIKE THAT PLEASE, recommend me some 😭 i want Gotham fully aware the Batclan is a family and Batman is their Father, lmao imagine if they worship them like religious figures lololol. I cannot imagine the gossip.
The fics that made realize I crave this type of trope are these:
whats in a name? [Ao3]
Bruce Wayne has many children. Bruce Wayne does not have many children who call him 'dad' regularly, and he understands. He was not the first father figure for most of his children, but he's happy to fill in for them now. However, the rarity with which he hears the word just makes it that much sweeter when he does.
Or: 6 times Bruce's kids call him dad, and 1 time he calls them his children.
homewrecker [Ao3]
The Gotham underworld finds out that deadbeat dad Batman owes poor, hapless Matches Malone decades worth of child support after having thrown him away to latch onto the city's most famous omega instead, and they sure have some opinions about that.
Bruce just has a headache.
Or just recommend me your fav batfam fics, i am not picky i swearrrrrr
also, sorry for my grammar idk, im mexican and english is not my first language <3
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Considering it wasn't a Covid bubble where people come and go and her blossoming relationship with Tony pre-airing of the show was not soiled by intrusive fans. Considering she already knew Tony and he and his family are Scottish live in the area. Thank you for making another connection between Caitriona and Tony early on, which led them living together in Scotland by 2015.
Dear Considering Anon,
I, too, am considering your very serious problems in reading comprehension and logic, darling. A COVID bubble is, actually, the opposite of people 'coming and going' and I think, in this regard, you lived that period of our lives under a rock, or you are just lamely trying to lie to yourself (and nobody else). I would, therefore, kindly ask you to stop insulting our shipper collective intelligence, or use a better online translator to English than good, old Google.
In the same vein, you just know who the most prominent intrusive fan was, very early on OL's timeline, as you also know perfectly well that she was not a shipper. Again, you must take me for an amnesic fool, who somehow forgot who was frantically phoning the resorts where S was supposedly spending time with non existent paramours? Or who somehow forgot the trolls on your side who systematically go ask anyone (loosely) connected to SC (and even innocent casuals who happened to spot S or C), all sorts of frankly embarrassing questions? But hey, you people have no shame, never did.
You might want to put a brake on waxing lyrically about that 'blossoming romance', considering C denied in the Irish press even by 2015 or 2016 being involved with anyone, which totally excludes McGill from the equation (why hide it, since you just wrote with great confidence there were 'no intrusive fans', at that moment?). And also considering you are perfectly unable to substantiate McGill being remotely present near her, anytime before the EIFF opening night gala in 2015 (you know, the one with that penguin pic that gives you the shingles...). [Later edit: that is right, I forgot about that flute pic and the other guy who called her 'McGill's girl' on Twitter - is that formal proof of a relationship ?].
By the way - evidence of EIFF staff unnecessarily adding a pic of both C and S (and unnecessarily mentioning her, in the process) years after the event, here:
Considering you cannot prove she already knew McGill before landing in Scotland, in September 2013, and you only rely on meager speculation about her contradictory press statements over time on the topic, I would be more prudent, if I were you. I know they are Scottish and I also know where his family lived and still does, in Glasgow - none of your business and I couldn't care less.
Thank you for understanding that if you want to be treated with basic politeness on this page, you should perhaps think twice before sending this #silly garbage, and also stop calling people you do not know things like 'Dearly Demented', 'stupid' or 'mental ward', as you like to do across the street. In many tones, from the brutal and cheap to the condescending ('giving lessons to someone', when you fail to make the very basic distinction between a budget project and its final implementation - just a not so random example).
Until then, kindly fuck off!
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Hello!
Thank you for answering all those questions! It's really enlightening and I love it very much!
I have a question but I'm sure you have already answered it. Unfortunately I can't find it 🙈 but if it's too bothersome please ignore everything.
It's about the fall. I know Armand had his little mind in it so it didn't happen exactly like this but Louis fell and it was at least partially Lestat's fault, wasn't it? I know your theory about his hair. There are many question marks in my brain and I hope they answer some of them in the future seasons 😊
Glad you like! 🥰
Ahhh, the "drop". They better give us more context next season, because there are still sooo many things off there, despite Lestat admitting to it at the trial.
So, if you know the "hair" theory you know about the lack of blood there, and ... well.
Even back then, when the episode 5 aired, many theorized that the "drop" (or fall) would be set up as a parallel with another fall - namely Armand throwing Lestat off the tower after the trial.
Now, they gave us the tower scene instead. The "psychological wound". Personally I don't buy that one, sorry. For one, there is a comment by Sam that he wanted to go "full ghoul" (but Rolin pulled him back because they show us that psychological wound), and also there was a comment ages ago that you cannot "set him on fire twice". And I do think that the skin on Lestat in the reunion scene looks still healing. And then the weird discussion there, and Lestat just "hanging out" to "find his origins in Magnus' dungeon? Where he was kept chained with the other bodies? Tortured?
No. Don't buy it. Sorry not sorry.
In the books, Armand takes a tortured Lestat out to the tower after the trial, and lies to him that Louis is already dead. And Armand lays the blame of the destruction of his old coven to Lestat then, refusing to help him, even though he told him he would if he ever returned to Paris.
"And it was you who drove us out of it with a flaming sword. What do we have now! Answer me! Nothing but the love of each other and what can that mean to creatures like us!"
That last sentence is particularly interesting here.
What do we have - nothing but the love of each other and what can that mean to creatures like us!
Armand is extremely disillusioned with Lestat in Paris, when he throws him off the tower - because he had hoped Lestat would return to Paris - for him. He offered help to him after all! Told him that only them could love each other! But Lestat returned, to get help - and save Louis and Claudia. And in that context... the words that were spoken in the sky between Louis and Lestat are really interesting:
I have waited, Louis. I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me as I love you. Just say it. Say, "Lestat, I am never going to love you".
It would help me a great deal to hear that from your lips your quivering hateful lips.
I would not be surprised if we would get a similar scene between Armand and Lestat in season 3, which would then at least echo what happened there, in the sky.
And I wouldn't be surprised if the part outside, and the part up in the sky were maybe still different than what we got to see.
The fall happened, I think that's clear now. But there's still details missing, imho. Details they hinted at only.
We will have to see what Lestat's version of events is. There is definitely a lot of context missing, a lot of reason (to the whole of the story). There are events which can only be told by Lestat or Armand... and well, I don't think Armand will be telling them in s3. And he was not willing to do so last season, obviously^^. S3 is The Vampire Lestat... it will be very interesting if they include that part of the book - and how.
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you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
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Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!
You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!
You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!
You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!
Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!
Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!
So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.
Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!
You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.
Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!
Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.
Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.
Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*
Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...
Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.
Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.
Better not get confident.
Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)
Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people
- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties
- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations
- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you
- you might start loving the effect you have on a room
- you might enjoy conversations more
- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently
- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations
- you might stop apologizing so much.
- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.
Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!
Why, it would be carnage!!
In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!
If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:
- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.
- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.
- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.
- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.
You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.
So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.
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